In An Age Before – Part 296
Now in Meduseld after the Dunlendings' leave-taking, Princess Heorte came to her father and wrapped him in a hug as tears of thanksgiving coursed down her cheeks.
"I cannot give thee thanks enough for saving me from a life of wedded horror in the arms of that weasel," she said once she had mastered herself sufficiently to speak. The notion that his darling child could have had any doubts fairly broke the king's heart.
"My sweet girl, sooner would I have thee wed the poorest true-hearted man of Rohan than a lord of beasts with a heart of offal," he said. "I regret only that I did not smite that leering Wulf as I did his sire."
"Truly, father? Thou wouldst have me marry a commoner if he was a man of honor?"
Without pause, Helm said, "Aye, that I would, dear one."
"And what of the Shieldmaiden to whom my heart is truly given?" she asked as she grinned at her father o'er the long-standing question. He groaned with a long-suffering shake of his head.
"Didst thou not plight thy troth with Agrona Hallamsdóttir some years past, even if 'tis unpublicized? I take ye for wedded though by tradition, the list of succession may not show it so," Helm said, serious though a glint of humor lit his eyes. "I would that ye be happy and half the city agrees, but the ways of our fathers forbid the formal declaration of what is. Thou shalt wed neither Wulf nor Agrona, my daughter, but whereas I would gut him sooner than look upon him, she hath won renown at arms in my service and I honor her."
"'Tis enough for now to know we have thy blessing, my king, even if that too may not be spoken," Heorte said, straight-faced as she sketched a curtsey. "We shall continue to claim 'naught and all who know 'naught know better than to ask 'aught."
Helm groaned as he nodded 'aye'. In fact, he was more worried about what choice his younger son Háma might make, he being then a score and seven years of age, unwed, and not courting.
"And Freca thought my grey hair came only from age," he muttered to himself as Heorte took her leave.
'Twas no surprise that Wulf and his people were livid at the king's treatment of their lord. Where aforetime they had believed Helm old, weak, and ripe to be deposed, now their hatred for him was enflamed by lust of vengeance. Their Lord Freca, the warrior who had spent o'er four decades subjugating the lands 'round Adorn and Isen, had fallen to a single bare-handed blow. Though he had been universally feared on the borders of Dunland, he had met only ridicule and murder in Edoras, and now they were all banished from Rohan. They had scarcely arrived home ere Wulf vowed to avenge his father and sit upon the throne in Meduseld one day.
Freca was rigid with the rigor of death when they lifted his cadaver from the wagon, and the men of his household had to break his joints free so he could be laid in his grave. The dirt was fresh atop his body when Wulf slit his palm and let his blood flow o'er his father's grave. Then he swore an oath, to take Helm's head and slay e'ery member of his family, though he had toyed with the notion of forcing Heorte to wife first for the sake of producing an heir of the blood royal, and then strangling her with his bare hands after the birthing.
'Round him, a couple inebriated hundreds cheered, yearning for battle as the flames of a bonfire leapt into the night sky and the mourners reeled from the keg of mead they had quaffed. Dancing firelight brought a manic glint to Wulf's eyes that made him appear well 'nigh feral. The drunken throng chanted his name and by popular acclaim, he was unchallenged as successor to his father. In all ways, 'twas a memorial service of fitting solemnity and suitable dignity for the fallen.
All of this was expected by Helm and the lords of Rohan. The soldiers and counselors who had witnessed the spectacle in Edoras reported what they had seen to the people of their settlements. Freca and Wulf were universally reviled and the hearts of the Rohirrim were set against them.
"The machinations of that moron were fittingly rewarded by the king, may Béma bless him," said Captain Ælfwine, who had attended the council to represent Norðr-vestandóttir Bý.
"'Tis an ill sign, I reckon, that Freca was so besotted by his power that he bethought himself crafty in presenting such an offer," Helluin replied. Ælfwine nodded in agreement, his face grim.
"No good can come of this," he said. "Let us hope that Wulf is a fitting successor to his father, a greater tallow-ketch, or perhaps more incompetent and deluded yet."
"One may hope, I suppose," the Noldo said, though she was less than optimistic, thinking, Even the dimmest learn somewhat from past events and 'naught teaches a lesson better than pain.
"At least what was conjecture aforetime is revealed now as fact and no pretense remains 'twixt Edoras and Freca's folk," Ælfwine said. "They are no longer suspects, but declared foes."
"And now Rohan is beset by known foes east and west. How long, I wonder, shall it be ere there is open war?"
"Who can know?" the captain asked rhetorically. "Would that the Easterlings had remained 'cross Anduin and the Dunlendings in Dunland as they did for the first two centuries after Eorl's coming. Were I one of the Wise, I should ponder the timing."
"One need not be accounted one of the Wise to mark the same strategy oft used aforetime by the Enemy. War shall come to Rohan from the east and west, and I wager that Gondor, long threatened from south and east, shall likewise be assailed so that neither realm can aid the other. 'Tis the same guile that brought an end to Arthedain in the north," Helluin said, "and that encompassed the fall of King Ondoher and his sons in the south." Indeed, I must wonder if this is not simply another threat to Gondor, in which Rohan has become interposed by 'naught but the ill fortune of its position. E'er have the Dúnedain borne the brunt of Sauron's hatred. He essays again to do what he could not in 2510…strip away Calenardhon and fill it with foes, thereby isolating the South Kingdom.
"Think thou truly that 'tis the Great Enemy who weaves his plots from the shadows?" asked Captain Ælfwine as an expression of horror shaped his features.
"I should not be surprised in the least to learn that some unknown emissary appeared in Dunland and propounded to Freca the notion of marrying into the royal house and subverting the Eorlingas," Helluin said. He did the like in Eregion in an Age before and Ost-in-Edhil was undone. "Oft aforetime hath he offered a means to power unlooked for. Men are particularly susceptible, but Elves are not immune." Alas for thee, Celebrimbor, my old friend.
"The Nine…" Ælfwine whispered and shuddered. Helluin nodded 'aye' in confirmation.
"They were Men once, kings, sorcerers, warriors, and even a Prince of Númenor, but they were ensnared by the Lord of Lies long ago. Eager for power, they heeded his words unquestioned and accepted his accursed Rings. Thus, they sold their spirits into servitude unending, for mortals cannot truly comprehend eternity." In hindsight, Pharazón was fortunate to escape his blasphemy with death and damnation. At least he is not a slave to Sauron as well.
"The world is far more perilous than the Easterlings and Dunlendings seen 'neath the sun," Captain Ælfwine said, and again, Helluin nodded 'aye'.
"Indeed so, my friend. The wages of greed may be far worse than the privation of poverty. 'Tis perilous to crave a station unearned that is greater than one's due."
For the next several years, a wary peace ensued. All held their breath whilst incursions from east and west remained pending. The Eorlingas expected an assault from Dunland any day and counted themselves blessed on each day that it came not. Unknown to them, in Gondor, Steward Beren awaited the reports of his scouts with equal trepidation. The Corsairs in Umbar and their Haradrim allies were e'er a threat, and though no certain accounts had come to him from the east, the Balchoth were not forgotten.
In Norðr-vestandóttir Bý the riders numbered four score and five and the remaining settlers some thirty-two score. They had long ago exceeded the tillage of the days of Ivar and Norðr-vestandóttir, cultivating a dozen acres each of wheat, rye, oats, and lucerne. Since the coming of Eorl, barley too had become a regular crop. Likewise, the vegetable garden and the apiary had expanded, more fruit and nut trees had been planted in the orchards, and more livestock roamed the farm. Far more food was produced than the people could eat, and with no neighbors dwelling 'nigh to barter with, the surplus was stored against a long winter or a bad harvest. So passed the years from 2754 to 2757. All that changed in 2758.
'Twas but the second week of Gwaeron with winter's chill still in the air when a company of six Riders came to Norðr-vestandóttir Bý. They were Prince Haleth's men, riding from Aldburg in the Eastfold and calling for aid. With words made terse by the urgency of his haste, Captain Heaþolaf spoke to Helluin and Captain Ælfwine as his warriors sat their tired horses in the yard outside the cabin.
"Noble allies, on behalf of Helm King my lord Haleth calls ye to aid Rohan in repelling a horde of Easterlings come o'er the South Undeeps. They are a far greater host than we have seen aforetime and if they are less than two thousands, then I am a goat."
Helluin groaned and Captain Ælfwine regarded him in horror.
"Are there any tidings from the Westfold, captain?" Helluin asked.
"I have heard none," Heaþolaf said, "or at least no tidings had come ere we rode north. Is this not strife enough?"
"'Tis indeed, noble captain and we shall come," she said. Beside her, Captain Ælfwine nodded in agreement.
"I go to muster our Riders," he said ere hastening toward the stockade.
Helluin eyed the westering sun, now but two hours ere dusk.
"Captain Heaþolaf, despite the need of haste, t'will take time to muster and draw rations, ready the horses and take up weapons. Thou and thy men have ridden far and in haste. Pray take some food and give your steeds time to feed, drink, and rest. The daylight fails and t'would be prudent to ride with the sunrise." To this, the horses nodded hopefully.
Though he heaved a sigh of impatience, the captain had to agree. T'would needlessly risk man and horse to take the north south track through unfamiliar terrain in the dark, and yet he felt a need of haste akin to Eorl's during his ride from Framsburg. Finally, he nodded 'aye' and gestured for his Riders to dismount.
"Pray stable your horses and join the mess at the stockade whither ye shall find bunks for the night," Helluin said. "Spirits shall be lifted by food and rest, and fortunes brightened with the dawn." He had to nod in agreement.
Finally, the captain bowed to the Noldo and said, "My thanks, Helluin. I am eager to thwart those who threaten my people…perhaps too eager for my own good."
She nodded to the captain, understanding his impulse.
"I see no flaw in feeling a degree of urgency so long as it leads thee not to lose thy head," Helluin said, then after a moment's thought, she asked, "Has a call for aid been sent to Gondor?"
"Aye. A messenger bearing Helm King's plea departed the morn of the day we took our leave from Aldburg. I know not if it hath been received in Mundburg."
"Still, that is good tidings, Captain Heaþolaf. I doubt not that Steward Beren shall send troops. Cirion took the same oath as Eorl and swore it before the gods."
"So 'tis said in our lore."
They traded hopeful smiles and then Heaþolaf went to join his Riders in the stockade. Helluin spoke with Ngandáro and Arinya and arranged for the Tatyar to remain at Norðr-vestandóttir Bý to defend the farmers whilst she prepared to ride with Captain Ælfwine's company. 'Twas all that she could do ere joining the fight. Alas, the hoped for aid from Gondor would be a year in coming, for as in Arvedui's day, the South Kingdom too was assailed.
The mixed company of Aldburg and Norðr-vestandóttir Bý rode south the following morn, that being 10 Gwaeron T.A. 2758. Four score and twelve numbered that troop, ninety-one Men and one Noldo. The north south track ran ninety-one leagues and two miles from the farm to the North Undeep. This time, no Black Breath flowed from Dol Guldur and they made no detour along the east bank of Anduin as Helluin had in the company of Eorl and the host of Framsburg. As such, they had not the benefit of the silver mist flowing from the Golden Wood and so they marked time normally and felt the weariness of e'ery mile ridden.
Captain Heaþolaf set a pace of two score and ten miles per day, and so in the afternoon of the 16th they reached the crossing of the river Anduin. Helluin reckoned they were a fortnight ahead of the spring rains, and though the water was chill from snowmelt, the ford was not drowned 'neath high water and they crossed safely.
When they stood on the western shore, the captain looked south and told Helluin, "Henceforth we must be wary, for I can only reckon that the downs beyond the Wold are held against us. Perchance we shall find battle amongst the rolling lands south, or even in the flatland to the west 'nigh the Entwash."
"I deem that is possible," Helluin agreed, "though if the Easterlings' aim is to assail Rohan, they shall not spend their onslaught on the Wold. We should be able to pass south with what haste we may through these rough lands."
"Then let us do so," he said, "and by night send scouts to the highlands to mark any campfires. The enemy may have left scouts of their own behind lest they find foes at their backs."
"I would do so," agreed Captain Ælfwine, "but I would not send them far afield. Rather, I would charge them only to keep watch and hold the highland north of the pass from the South Undeep, thereby guarding their line of retreat."
"I too deem that likely," Helluin agreed. "We should be safe to ride in haste for the next two days, but we should camp cold on the second and avoid the highlands."
To this plan, Captain Heaþolaf agreed and the company set out south.
Now amongst the earliest tasks undertaken by the Eorlingas after their coming to Calenardhon was the mapping of their new lands, and the Wold, whither Cirion's battle had been fought, was one of the first explored. E'ery gully, ravine, bluff, and spring was carefully measured and noted, just as Marhwini had mapped the central Vale of Anduin in the 1850s-60s. E'ery passage, road, trail, and all the positions of the ancient Dúnedain strongholds were known. Most captains in the East Emnet took the time to copy the map at Aldburg onto a folded and much worn parchment that they carried on patrol and into battle 'til they knew their lands by rote. In this, they emulated the Laiquendi's knowledge of Eriador so much any mortals could.
Captain Heaþolaf led the company southwest on the 17th and 18th so that they crossed the Wold on a diagonal to bypass the land closest to the South Undeep, reckoning that by doing so, they would be approaching the most likely concentration of Easterlings. At dawn on the 19th, he, Captain Ælfwine, and Helluin crept up the northern slope and onto the ridge just east of where Helluin remembered the largest Dúnedain outpost had once been. There they espied the weathered and tumbled fortifications and saw that they were held by a company of foemen numbering two score and ten, by their best reckoning.
'Neath the outpost in the long valley leading from the river crossing were tents and pickets for an encampment of another hundred of the enemy. The low ground to the east and west was well trampled, attesting to the passage of a host marching to war. Of these, they saw no trace. No smoke from further cook fires rose in the morning air and no sounds of mustering or marching were to be heard. They saw no dust raised by the passage of horses or troops. The enemy had left the valley days ago and made their way west, and then most likely south into the East Emnet. Heaþolaf shook his head in frustration.
"We are too late," he said. "The enemy already assails my lord and brings war to our lands."
"We are late to watch the host marching to battle, but truly, what could our four score and ten have done to stay them?" Helluin asked.
The captain looked at her sharply, but finally lowered his head and nodded in agreement. Ninety Men and one Elf would not have been able to deny the thousands of foemen passage into Rohan.
"We are not too late to destroy this rearguard," the Noldo said. "I deem they number seven score and ten, but their companies are separated and taken separately, we can prevail."
At this, the captain from Aldburg raised his head and slowly, a grim grin shaped his lips.
"All the Riders of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý are skilled with the bow, are they not?" he asked, and at Captain Ælfwine's nod 'aye', his grin broke into a full smile. "Then let us plan their demise."
After leaving the five Riders from Aldburg to mind their horses, Helluin, Captain Ælfwine, and Captain Heaþolaf crept back upslope leading the Riders from the farm to approach the old fortifications from the east, the least likely direction from which any foe would attack. Amidst the broken, boulder-strewn ground filled with harsh morning shadows, they found plentiful cover and their advance went unmarked 'til they were within ten fathoms.
"Pray await my signal, my friends," Helluin said to the captains as she nodded to the low remnants of the wall ahead, "and then charge forth prepared to shoot. We outnumber the garrison 'nigh two to one and no more than two volleys should silence all those within. I go to slay their sentries on this side."
Heaþolaf slowly raised his head and took a careful glance at the nearest wall. There he saw four Easterlings gazing out from the wall walk, shading their eyes from the sun. To him, they seemed bored.
"They are well separated on the wall and shall make no easy targets," he whispered as he turned back, but Helluin had vanished. Alarmed, he sought for her, whilst beside him Captain Ælfwine chuckled and set an arrow to the string of his bow whilst clenching three more 'twixt the knuckles of his right hand. Shaking his head, Heaþolaf turned back to watch the wall.
He had barely refocused on the enemy's sentries when the northerly pair fell from the wall and a moment later, the two more southerly tumbled off the battlement as well. The arrows had flown too fast to see and the pairs of Easterlings had fallen together as if stricken by single shots. Then Helluin rose from concealment and waved an arm forward to signal the charge.
'Round him, Captain Ælfwine and the Riders of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý leapt from cover and raced towards the outpost. At the wall, half fell on their hands and knees, shields slung on their backs, and the other half planted a boot on the shields and launched themselves up onto the wall walk to begin shooting. The first half then rose to their feet, hoisted themselves o'er the parapet, and fired their arrows as well. In moments, the slaughter was full-wrought and the shooting ceased.
Captain Heaþolaf joined Helluin as she recovered her arrows from the dead sentries. Sure enough, only two bore shafts whilst the other two had been shot clean through. Such power he had not seen aforetime and he studied the black steel bow on the Noldo's back with great curiosity. Then they climbed the wall and looked into the fortification. There the Riders from the farm were recovering their arrows and finishing off any left wounded with thrusts of their swords. Captain Ælfwine was staring down into the valley from an observation port beside the gate.
"They marked 'naught and have shown no change in movement or position, though they bicker 'twixt themselves," he said as Helluin came up beside him.
"We may take that as confirmation that our assault has gone unnoticed," she said with a smile.
"And now they are reduced by a third," Captain Heaþolaf added.
"Sooner or later, some report or exchange of duties shall be missed and some of them shall come hither," Helluin said.
Captain Ælfwine turned from the watch post and said, "The way uphill is narrow and poorly maintained. I would not bring a horse. I wager those that ascend shall come afoot."
After taking a look, Captain Heaþolaf said, "I agree. I would not jeopardize my mount on that trail, especially when expecting a friendly reception."
"Oh they shall receive a reception, though I would not claim t'will be friendly," Helluin said with a cold grin, though she knew that long ago, that trail had been suitable for horses. "I would have fifty here don the raiment of our fallen enemies and the rest conceal themselves to await our guests with nocked arrows. What count dost thou reckon they shall send, captain?"
"Six if they have missed a report, or perhaps two dozens and a lieutenant if 'tis for an exchange of watch duties," Captain Heaþolaf guessed after a moment's consideration. "T'will not be a response of alarm the first time."
"Explain," Helluin requested.
"If I know 'aught of these Easterlings from prior engagements, 'tis that they hail from many tribes. Loyalty is questionable and their captain would not favor a third of his troops becoming o'erly cohesive 'neath a separate command. I reckon he shall rotate their deployments by halves to diminish any chance of a challenge to his authority."
Helluin and Captain Ælfwine nodded in agreement, having no wisdom to gainsay him.
"Howsoe'er many they send shall be lost and an alarm shall follow when they are missed," Helluin said. "Let us hope they send two dozens at first."
Then the Noldo and the two captains took counsel for the refinement of their plan and chuckles followed, but they agreed 'twas for the best and that their unorthodox scheme would work.
"They need only confront a temporary distraction 'til all are within the gates," Helluin said, and the captains agreed.
Orders were given, not quite what the Riders had expected, but the Easterlings were stripped and their garments donned by the fifty Riders most akin in appearance to their fallen foes. The bodies were heaved o'er the wall and onto the northern slope where they could not be seen from the valley or the outpost. The remainder of the company chose places of concealment and then they all waited.
An hour passed and then another. Boredom took hold. Captain Heaþolaf cast a glance to the sky and marked Anor's position.
"Noon draws 'nigh," he said, "and I am beginning to wonder if these companies have any contact 'twixt them at all."
"Patience, my friend," said Helluin. "Surely they must share some communion, for as thou hast said, they have little trust within their ranks."
The captain nodded and returned to the observation post to check on the state of their enemies. With a groan, he watched as they kindled fires, broke out victuals, and began to cook.
"They pause to enjoy their noon meal," he told the others with a sigh.
Captain Ælfwine made a hand sign to his Riders and his order was passed through the ranks. Men sat and brought forth bread, cheese, and sausage for their own meal whilst they waited on their foes. Soon, Captain Heaþolaf had joined them whilst Helluin took o'er the watch post. On the valley floor two hundred feet below, the Easterlings endured a cheerless repast.
For most, this shall be their last meal, she thought, and more is the pity they enjoyed it so little.
Though they did not seem to appreciate their food, they certainly took their time o'er it. For dessert, they traded insults, but none came to blows. 'Twas a full hour ere they extinguished the cook fires and tossed away their scraps. By then, the Riders had long finished their rations and were again idly toying with their weapons as they sat silently awaiting the enemy.
It seemed to take fore'er, but in truth, only a short while passed 'twixt the meal and the issuing of commands. Captain Heaþolaf pointed out the commander to Ælfwine and Helluin and the Noldo thought, I shall be certain to hew off that one's head.
A company formed up and began their ascent of the path. As the captain from Aldburg had guessed, 'twas composed of twenty-five Easterlings, one leading, and a detail to relieve half of those at the outpost following. When they had reached the halfway point on the path, Captain Ælfwine signaled his Riders to their places. The fifty dressed as Easterlings draped themselves o'er piles of debris, sat leaning sideways in the shade of the walls, or lay splayed out on the ground. None stood in the way of a shot towards the gates and there was not a shred of military discipline to be seen anywhere.
The detail from the valley reached the gates and their commander smote upon them, demanding entrance. Helluin unbarred and then hauled them open, taking station out of sight behind an opened door. The Easterlings entered the outpost and beheld a gross dereliction of duty. The leader stomped forward administering a tongue lashing of curses whilst his troops guffawed and shouted insults at what appeared to be a whole company passed out from excessive drink, and amongst whom barely a handful remained sober enough to acknowledge their arrival. Only a scant few of the newcomers marked the gates closing behind them.
They had been within the outpost only a minute when they were shot dead by a volley of arrows coming from the shadows of doorways and windows in the barracks, mess hall, storage rooms, and infirmary that lined the walls 'neath the wall walks. The range was no greater than seven fathoms and as little as three, well 'nigh point blank for such practiced archers. The Easterlings died without raising a weapon. With fifty Riders 'dressing the set' as drunkards there had remained thirty-five Riders free to shoot, more than there were targets to strike. The conclusion had been foregone and required barely more than a single volley.
"And now the count of our enemies is halved," Captain Heaþolaf chortled as the fifty Riders stood and dusted themselves off and the shooters emerged from cover to reclaim their arrows.
"And now those in the valley number ten less than do we and we hold the high ground," Captain Ælfwine added. He then gazed downslope from the observation post and reported, "I see no change in their disposition. Incredible! T'would seem that our assault has passed unmarked and our foes remain none the wiser."
"And now would any care to lay wagers on how many venture hither when an alarm is raised?" Helluin asked, and immediately the eighty-five Riders began discussing what count of foes would be dispatched to investigate their missing comrades and what odds to favor.
Helluin and the two captains took turns watching the valley and they saw the one who had ordered the last detail hence looking e'er more frequently up the trail at the gates. He was one of the few who sat astride a horse and his carriage in the saddle grew stiff with increasing irritation. From two hundred feet above, only the Noldo could mark his grimaces and muttered curses, but all three got the impression that he missed the return of those relieved of watch duty. 'Twas just a matter of time ere his aggravation goaded him to action. In the meantime, she studied the composition of his troops.
Finally, after the half-part of an hour, the last of which the leader spent in an increasing rage, he dismounted and commanded the entire remainder of his company to follow him up the path. When some were slow to move, he browbeat them and forced them to march in the middle of the column, surrounded by men he deemed more loyal to him. Then the seventy-five Easterlings began their ascent.
But of course he must commit them all to this march, for he assumes the seventy-five in this outpost have conspired against him, Helluin thought.
"They come all together with but a dozen bearing bows," she announced to the Riders. "Pray take your places." Then she unbarred the gates and returned to the observation port to watch the enemy's advance.
The Riders, seventy-five of whom now wore the raiment of fallen Easterlings, had distributed themselves 'round the space within the gates. Twenty-five were visible close by the walls or on the wall walks, acting as if engaged in their duties, whilst the remaining sixty were hidden, with arrows knocked on their bowstrings.
The Easterlings came on up the path, and when they reached the gates, the leader demanded entrance. His voice rose with his anger when he received no reply, for neither Helluin nor any of the Riders spoke that tongue. Finally, he ordered his troops to force the gates and the foremost laid hands on them and shoved as hard as they could. To their astonishment, the gates gave way freely, swinging inward so easily that some fell on their faces because of the lack of resistance.
Then the company charged into the yard behind the gates and they saw only what they took for the replacement detail going about their duties and keeping watch from the walls. The twenty-five visible Riders said 'naught and paid the commander no heed as he berated them in a loud rant whilst e'ery eye amongst his seventy-four warriors became completely focused on him. This continued a while as he stomped back and forth shouting curses 'til finally, one of the disguised Riders on the furthest wall deigned to reply.
"Āfar, geomormod meox-heorte, beforan Ic hēawe ēower scite-andwlita, bædling!¹" ¹(Āfar, geomormod meox-heorte, beforan Ic hēawe ēower scite-andwlita, bædling! Be gone, miserable dung-heart, ere I hew thy shit-face, girly-man! = āfar(imp. 2nd pers., depart!) + geomormod(miserable) + meox(dung, filth) + heorte(heart) + beforan(before) + Ic hēawe(I hew) + ēower(your) + scite(shit) + andwlita(face) + bædling(effeminate man or hermaphrodite) Old English)
The Easterling captain had no idea of what the Rider had said, for he kenned the tongue of the Eorlingas no more than they kenned his. Yet from the sniggering of the others on the walls, he deemed 'twas no loyal soldier's concession to his authority. He was already furious and his men waited on his orders. The first words from his mouth were an imperious demand for a proper response.
Instead of speaking any reply, the same Rider simply turned his back and made a gesture of waving him off as though he were 'naught but a vexsome insect. In a rage, the Easterling captain strode forward, his lieutenant on his heels, and he drew himself up to issue an order of execution for insubordination, but his words ne'er came.
The lieutenant lurched forward into the captain's back and then both fell as a gout of blood fountained from the captain's open mouth. Unseen by the mass of troops behind them, half the length of an arrow had appeared from his throat having already bisected the shorter lieutenant's skull from back to front.
There followed several heartbeats of astonished silence whilst none could comprehend what had come to pass, and then more Easterlings began to fall. Arrows whistled through the air, seemingly from e'ery direction, and the company of seventy-five swiftly dwindled as they were shot down. After a few deadly moments, the Easterlings regained their wits. Some drew their weapons and raised their shields, hoping to make a defense, whilst others tried to scatter, only to find that they were surrounded and no direction conferred safety. The hindmost ten turned to flee, but they found the gates were closed, barred, and held against them.
As the Riders of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý prosecuted the execution of their foes, Helluin stood with Anguirél and the Sarchram drawn and ready, whilst at her feet lay eight Easterlings, cut down silently with swift thrusts of her dagger whilst they stared at the drama unfolding 'twixt their captain and the insolent watchman on the wall. When he had advanced against the Rider, she had loosed a single arrow ere setting aside her bow and drawing her primary weapons. Now she raised the Black Sword in salute.
"Vrasublatûrûk,¹" she told them, though they understood the Orkish no better than Rohirric. ¹(Vrasublatûrûk, I will kill you all! = vras(kill) + -ub(1st or 2nd pers. fut. tense suff., I will) + latûrûk(2nd pers. coll. pl. dat. pron., you all) Orkish)
Trapped 'twixt a single foe and deadly archers, they panicked and charged the gate, deeming 'twas their only path to escape, yet their hope was folly. Ere they had covered the first fathom, they were blasted by a blinding ril of Light that left them flash-burnt, squinting, and disoriented, and from which exploded a swift-flying mithril Ring.
"Sí fëar nárnya,¹" declared the Sarchram as she slashed the first Easterling 'cross the throat. ¹(Sí fëar nárnya, These spirits are mine = sí(demo. pl. pron. these) + fëar(spirits) + nár-(pres. pl. v., are) + -nya(1st pers. poss. pron. suff, mine) Quenya)
"Sereg garoathon!¹" cried Anguirél as Helluin sidestepped a half-hearted lunge and slid Eöl's black steel 'twixt an Easterling's ribs. ¹(Sereg garoathon! Blood I shall have! = sereg(blood) + garo-(v. have) + -atho-(v. fut. suff, shall have) + -n(1st pers. sing. subj. pron. suff., I) Sindarin The –o stem of the verb is retained as an imperative suff.)
Surrounded in a blazing aura of silver and gold and with flames of blue battle fire roiling from her eyes, the Noldo cowed her foes. She slipped amongst them well 'nigh unopposed whilst wielding her sword as they recoiled in terror at so eldritch an apparition.
In prior battles, they had prevailed by exercising fearsome and o'erwhelmingly violent confidence, but now that self-assurance evaporated in the face of warcraft forged in the first days of the sun and moon. Against a warrior who had defied Morgoth's host in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad and held the Nine at bay in the heart of their master's realm, they could generate no fear. Despite their desperate efforts to ward her off, with unnatural speed and precision her blade slipped through their guard to draw blood. Oft times their vigorous slashes met only air, and then ere they could withdraw and recover, they felt the stinging pain of a deep cut or the impact of a deadly thrust. And with their attention fixed on evading her sword, they marked not the flying Ring Blade that careened amongst them, slicing and hewing their flesh as if possessed by a will of her own.
Of the last two to die, the first saw his sword slide harmlessly past Helluin's left rerebrace just ere his head snapped backward from the impact of Anguirél's point passing into the roof of his mouth and out through the back of his skull. The Noldo's lunge was surgical, timed to impale the last man, a comrade who had stood behind him, with the distal hand's length of her blade to his face. She let their dead weight guide her weapon downward so their bodies slid off as they fell to the ground. Beyond her, the Riders were emerging from cover, their enemies lying dead, fatally shot and silent, littering the ground. Then they moved to recover their spent arrows.
Now in the aftermath, Captain Heaþolaf was both ecstatic and awed. The Riders of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý were less so on both counts, for they had seen Helluin and the Tatyar drilling aforetime and they had come to believe in their own training at archery.
"I am amazed at this outcome," Heaþolaf said, "for we have destroyed so many and lost none. 'Tis unprecedented, I wager."
"This engagement was much in our favor, for it forced no melee fighting," Helluin said. "On the open plains the odds shall not be so favorable."
"Nay, they shall not, nor have they been in the past. A battle we have won and earnt renown thereby, but the war still awaits us." He looked 'round and tallied the fallen. "I wager thou hast felled a score by thine own hand this day, Helluin. Ne'er have I seen a sword wielded so."
The Noldo dipped her head to honor his compliment, thinking, I shall not mention the twenty-seven hundred Yrch I slew in a dozen years 'neath Methedras. Then she shrugged and said, "'Tis the result of thousands of years' practice. I reckon anyone could do it."
Captain Ælfwine rolled his eyes at that claim, but then said, "We should summon the horses and thy men, captain, and then decide our course for the morrow. For myself, I shall be glad to discard these eastern rags." He tugged a crude leather jerkin off his shoulders and flung it in the dirt.
Captain Heaþolaf nodded and said, "I shall go and retrieve my Riders and the horses. T'would seem I leave ye the duty of disposing of all this." He swept an arm 'round to encompass the litter of bodies whilst trying to suppress a grin.
Ahhh, my old friend, Helluin could not help but think as she watched Heaþolaf depart. Thirteen centuries and more have passed and now I have taken the same fortress thou took in 1447, though with more death and less guile than thou mustered on King Eldacar's behalf. I hope the last seven and a half centuries since we last met have treated thee well, my lord Kanafinwë.
An hour later, Captain Heaþolaf reappeared leading his five men and the herd of eighty-six riderless horses from Norðr-vestandóttir Bý. During his absence, the Riders from the farm had tossed the bodies of the fallen o'er the north wall onto the slope where they joined those Easterlings slain aforetime so the outpost was left empty. Then they had barred the gate and climbed the ruined wall to take the descending path into the valley.
Now by the time Captain Heaþolaf returned with the horses, Helluin and the Riders of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý were in the valley finishing their examination of the Easterlings' camp. Helluin had spoken with the eight horses from the east and offered them a choice.
Heed me now, for your prior masters are slain and shall not come amongst ye again, she told them whilst staring into their eyes. They seemed dispirited, subdued in response, and reacted to her tidings with scant sorrow.
We are not sorry to see them go for they treated us with little honor, a stallion replied.
Aye, twenty years of thankless service, then murder and the stew pot was to be our lot, a mare added, and now, shall it be that we are to be butchered to feed thy company?
I think not, Helluin told them, but ye are the warhorses of fallen invaders. Ye stand now in the realm of Helm King and upon the lands of the Eorlingas. Ye may either turn back cross the river to your own lands where perhaps ye shall be impressed again by other Men of the East, or ye may follow us, swearing allegiance and service to the lord of this land, and receive the mercy of their captain and the care of our warhorses. Pray speak with those who come 'nigh and then make your choices. The eastern horses nodded to her hopefully and looked towards the approaching herd.
"Have ye found 'aught of value telling of the invaders' battle plans?" Captain Heaþolaf asked after he had dismounted and joined Helluin and Captain Ælfwine. By then, the Riders had picked through most of the Easterling camp.
"Nay, we have found 'naught," Ælfwine replied. "'Tis mostly personal trinkets, spare clothing, and rations of dubious virtue. Whatsoe'er battle plans they had were likely kept in their heads, or at least in their captain's head, and that is gone to the buzzards and worms."
Heaþolaf looked the camp o'er and then dismissed it from his attention. He marked the eastern horses mingling with the Riders' steeds and cast them a questioning glance. Captain Ælfwine looked to Helluin, deferring to her, having seen her engaging the foreign horses eye to eye.
"I bid them speak with our steeds ere choosing whether to return home 'cross Anduin, or join our company with thy mercy to serve the king," she told him.
He looked askance at her a moment and then shrugged, leaving the decision to her. "Whate'er their decision, I would have us ride at least a few miles from this place ere we camp for the night."
To this suggestion, all were agreeable, for lingering 'nigh a battlefield in the company of the dead was not favorable to any. In the backs of their minds were perhaps recalled tales of ghosts, the Dwimorberg, and the Door of the Dead.
Now after the quarter part of an hour, the horses made their choice. Helluin came to them and asked what they had decided.
Having learnt much from thy warhorses, six of us have decided to cleave to the Eorlingas and swear fealty to Helm King through his captain, the same stallion who had first spoken said. The other two shall return east at once, for they are less stouthearted and hope to enjoy freedom from all wars of Men.
To this, Helluin nodded and said, Then to those who shall join us, I wish ye good fortune and perhaps great renown. We depart west at once. Pray follow us now.
The horses nodded to her and two broke away, galloping east towards Anduin and the South Undeep. The other six prepared to follow the Riders west down the valley to war.
To be Continued