Lyn: Yes, I see what you mean about the interjection of "reader." It doesn't work there. I will remove it when I upload a corrected version of the chapter. I think, though, I will leave in the acknowledgement of the death of the horses because the horses are very dear to the Elves, and even if it is not the most rational of things to do, I think Anomen possibly would take just a few moments—and it was just a few moments, really—to say goodbye. Now as to the raft, I confess that, even though I live near a river that has some rough patches, I have never gone rafting. I do have Anomen tossing extra vines on to the raft to make any repairs that might become necessary. Do you think the sequence would work if I had him once or twice actually using the vines to resecure the driftwood planks?
Farflung: Um, if I can't kill horses, do you want me to go back to killing Elves? Just joking! Just joking! ^_^
Joee: Two errors involving Anomen's name! Aaargh! ^_^ About the formatting. It's not deliberate. When I save each chapter, the paragraphs are consistently indented. Somehow, when I upload the chapters, the indenting gets dropped in some places, preserved in others. I can't figure out how to solve the problem although, believe me, I've tried! Anybody have any ideas?
Melissa: Thank you. I think you'll find Anomen resourceful in this chapter, too. At least I hope so!
Jebb: Um, was it my imagination or were you were about to suggest that Elrond put in an appearance sans robe? I don't think I can wrap my mind around that concept (although, actually, he did go swimming once after the rescue of Anomen and the twins from Orcs, and I have never provided bathing suits for any of my Elves).
Karri: The relationship between Glorfindel and Anomen has really blossomed. Do you remember how the balrog-slayer used to terrify the elfling Anomen?
Dragonfly: I am going to make a little more use of Glorfindel as Anomen's putative father in a future chapter.
Vocabulary
Antadar—'Gift Father'
Heard—'Fierce' or 'Strong' (Old English; pronounced Hey-ard)
Hordwynn—'Pleasure Hoard' (Old English; pronounced Hoard-win)
Hyge—'Heart' or 'Courage' (Old English; pronounced Hew-guh)
The day after her conversation with Mithrandir, Galadriel urged Gilglîr to set out at once for Imladris.
"If you wish to journey on to Rivendell, then you should not delay. The passage over the mountains will grow increasingly perilous over the months to come."
"The weather is mild, my Lady, and promises to continue so for the near future. Surely we are not likely to meet with any obstacles."
"It is not the weather of which I speak, Gilglîr. The Orcs grow both more numerous and bolder. You are likely to encounter not only the usual timorous night-crawlers who shun the sunlight but also a new breed, fierce creatures as likely to attack during the day as during the night. At no time will you be safe, and you will be less so the longer you linger in Lothlórien."
Thranduil was unhappy to be parted from Tawarmaenas on such short notice, but he had given his word to Gilglîr to follow his advice in this matter. On the morrow, he would set out for Greenwood with a small escort, for it was decided that he would trust to Beorn's horses to safeguard his passage across the plain. The greater part of the Greenwood warriors would accompany Gilglîr and Tawarmaenas.
They would also be accompanied by Rúmil and Orophin. Those two Elves had been greatly disappointed when told that their friend Tawarmaenas would be departing after spending such a short time in their land. They had gone to the Lord and Lady to beg leave to journey to Imladris as well.
"Our brother Haldir has been long in Imladris," Rúmil pointed out. "He may wish to return to our land, but now it would not be wise for him to do so on his own. If Orophin and I were to travel to Rivendell, we would be able to serve as escorts for his homecoming journey."
His reasoning was faulty, of course. Gilglîr and Tawarmaenas would be passing through Lothlórien on their return journey, and Haldir could just as easily, and perhaps with greater safety, ride in their company. Galadriel and Celeborn, however, forbore pointing out this fact and graciously granted the brothers' request. It may have been in their minds that the more warriors who rode with Tawarmaenas, the better. Diplomacy forbade them from suggesting that the Greenwood Elves needed the aid of the Lothlórien ones, but those two at least could join the Greenwood company under the guise of reuniting with their brother.
While these decisions were being reached in Lothlórien, other, equally important plans were being drawn up in Rivendell. In view of the several recent, and nearly fatal, encounters with Orcs, Elrond had convened a council of warriors to discuss matters and decide upon a course of action.
Among the Elves called to this council was Thoron. Hitherto, he had only been an onlooker at such councils, but today he found the courage to speak his mind before his elders. For a leader, bravery before an assembly is no less necessary than valor in battle, and Elrond smiled encouragingly at the young Elf when he respectfully asked leave to speak.
"My Lord, long have we patrolled our borders, repelling each Orc incursion as best we can. We rarely know when or where the next blow will fall, and we cannot be everywhere at once. Thus far our vigilance has sufficed, but will it not be only a matter of time before the Orcs happen upon an unprotected stretch of border? Stretched thin as they are, our defenses are liable to be breached at any time, all the more so as our foes seem to be growing in number. If Orcs do get past our patrols and come upon unarmed Elves going about their daily business, the harm they could do would be incalculable.
Elrond nodded.
"You speak wisely, Thoron. What do you recommend?"
"I think that henceforth we must do more than react to their depredations," declared Thoron. "If we wish to truly be secure within our borders, we must pursue the Orcs. We must track them to their nests, which they have hitherto deemed their strongholds. Deprive them of their hiding places! Wipe them out in those crevasses in which they take shelter!"
Thoron colored a little when he realized how passionate he had spoken these latter words, but Elrond inclined his head respectfully toward him. Then he looked at Glorfindel. The balrog-slayer nodded.
"I think Thoron is right. We must do more than patrol. We must go on the offensive and leave our foes with no places of retreat anywhere within the Misty Mountains. I only wish," he said restlessly, "that I could ride out myself. Would that I were not injured!"
"Do not fret," said Elrond grimly. "I am sure that there will be plenty of other occasions for you to wield your sword."
The Lord of Imladris looked about at the assembled warriors.
"Berenmaethor, we cannot leave the south unguarded. You will resume patrolling the border between Eregion and Dunland. As always, Baramagor will serve as your lieutenant. Anomen and Celaithand will join you as well."
"Yes, my Lord."
"Thoron," continued Elrond, "the Misty Mountains have been your charge and shall continue to be so. The leadership of this sortie shall be in your hands. Elladan and Elrohir will serve as your lieutenants."
"Thank you, my Lord."
Elrond turned to their Lothloríen guest.
"Haldir, you are well acquainted with the Misty Mountains, for you have traversed them several times. May I prevail upon you to lend your knowledge and skill to this campaign?
"I would be honored, my Lord."
A knock was heard upon the door.
"Enter," called Elrond.
Erestor stepped into the room. A sword was girt at his side. Elrond's eyebrows shot up well nigh to his hairline.
"Erestor, mellon-nîn. You bear a most unusual ornament this day."
"This is no ornament," growled Erestor. "You haven't ordered an airing of the library in centuries. I insist that you do so. As I cannot stand the dirt that will be flying about as that chamber receives a proper cleaning, I mean to ride with Anomen until the dust has settled. Besides," added the tutor, "Someone has to go along and keep that scamp in order."
"And what of Estel?" asked Elrond. "What shall he do in your absence?"
"Oh," said Erestor airily, "as Glorfindel shall have nothing else to do, he may mind Estel."
Glorfindel glowered at Erestor, who gave him a cheekier smile than he had been seen to flash in centuries. Elrond kept his face studiedly neutral, although it took more than the usual effort.
"Glorfindel, this may be a good opportunity to increase yet again the intensity of Estel's training in both bow and sword. Moreover, you are bereft of your horse and will need to bond with and train another. It would be good for Estel to observe and perhaps assist you in that endeavor."
"Very well, Elrond," replied Glorfindel, his irritation subsiding at the prospect of an honorable task.
Elrond arose, signaling that the conclave was at an end. Tomorrow the warriors would depart on their respective missions.
A fortnight later, Berenmaethor's troop was patrolling deep within the territory of the Dunlendings. As those folk had given the Orcs the freedom of their land, the Elves did not feel obligated to halt at the border of Eregion. To keep Eregion secure, Dunland now had to be kept free of Orcs. Ai! Is proving to be difficult to locate and root out those fell creatures. The Elves saw plentiful signs of the presence of the Orcs, but they did not venture out in daylight, and the Elves could never succeed in tracking them to their lairs. The Orcs had gone to ground quite literally. Again and again the Elves tracked their foes to the edge of a rock field, but they were unable to follow them further, for they left no traces upon the rock.
Berenmaethor signed and shook his head as he gazed upon the rock field. In that layered basalt no vegetation grew that would betray the passage of a heavily shod foot.
"Time was the ground here convulsed, and the mountains vomited forth liquid rock that glowed red as it oozed down the slope and buried this plain, incinerating all that stood in its path. 'Twas eons ago, when even Elrond was young. We make use of pumice and obsidian, which are also cast forth by volcanos, but this basalt deprived the Men of this region of fertile lands that were once good for grazing and farming. Since then, they have cast their eyes covetously upon Eregion. No doubt it seems unfair to them that the elven lands were untouched by the cataclysm."
As they patrolled, the Elves did not trouble the luckless Dunlendings in any way, and after the first week those folk stopped fleeing their villages at the approach of the elven warriors. A few children even ventured to draw near and stare at the Fair Folk, although they scampered away whenever an Elf glanced in their direction. Anomen was sorry that they were so skittish. They were poor, ragged creatures, these urchins, and he pitied them.
One day Anomen's patrol had halted near a particularly dilapidated hut to break fast. Anomen was just about to bite into a piece of fruit when out of the corner of his eye he spotted bare, dirty feet at the base of a bush. Carefully trying to disguise the fact that he was looking, his eyes traced the feet to skinny legs encased in ragged trousers, and then the legs to a scrawny ribcage, the ribcage to a thin neck, the neck to a grimy face topped by a thatch of unruly hair.
"Even Estel is not as grubby as this one!" Anomen thought to himself. He carelessly placed the fruit upon a rock and walked away to check on his horse. When he returned, the fruit was gone, and he heard a crunching sound coming from the direction of the bush.
That evening, Anomen once more halted his patrol near the ramshackle shelter and again placed a piece of fruit upon the rock near the bush. He turned his back to address Celaithand.
"I hope you know that your apple has just levitated," said Celaithand cheerfully.
The two Elves heard an unmistakable crunching sound.
"That bush has teeth," observed Anomen's friend.
"Yes," agreed Anomen. "And the teeth are in a mouth. Mayhap if I feed the mouth, it will speak."
"It will take more fruit than you have in your pack, I am sure," declared Celaithand laughingly.
"No doubt you are right, mellon-nîn. How much fruit are you carrying?"
Celaithand made a wry face but emptied his pack of fruit. Three days later the bush spoke.
"You are much nicer than those other ones. And you are not as ugly, even if your ears are pointy."
"Those other ones do not give you fruit?" said Anomen mildly, looking anywhere but at the bush.
"They don't give me anything! And it's no good stealing or scavenging their food, either. All they carry is bread and strips of meat. Their bread is either hard or moldy, and the meat stinks and crawls with maggots."
"I wonder how they survive on such ill fair."
"My Da wonders, too. He says lately they have been eying our cattle. They swore that they would not take any of them, but my Da says that our chieftains are making a mistake, that in the end the nasty creatures will reive our livestock—and much more besides!"
"Your father is a wise man."
"I think so! He should be chief! He wouldn't have shown the nasty creatures our caves!"
"Ah, yes, the caves."
"Aye. My Da says that we have ne'er let strangers shelter in our caves. Their secret was preserved lest we have nowhere to flee. But now the nasty creatures know where they are! My Da says someday the nasties will turn on us, and when we flee they will know to follow us to our hiding places. We will be trapped and slain every last one of us!"
"It would be good if the nasty creatures were slain instead. If they were to die, their knowledge would die with them."
"Aye," whimpered the child, "but we lack the strength to slay 'em. My Da says 'twas fear made the chieftains give them leave to enter our land in the first place, for if we had said 'nay', they would have slaughtered us anyway."
"Not all folk lack the strength to slay such cruel creatures."
"Aye, I know. Elvish wights such as ye be could kill'em."
"Aye, if we knew where they were hidden, we could."
The bush fell silent. It stayed so for so long that Anomen feared that the urchin had slipped away.
"Do you have any more fruit?" the bush suddenly whispered.
"I have a few more pieces."
"Only a few more pieces?"
"For now. But much fruit grows in Imladris. I could get more. And I could do better than that. By the creek yonder is a plot of soil that looks suitable for the growing of fruit trees. If such trees were planted there and carefully tended, in a few years you could pick your own fruit whene'er the fancy took you. Indeed, such trees would bear sufficient fruit so that, if you wished, you could trade the fruit with your neighbors. Would you like that?"
"I would like that very much! To have something worth trading, aye, that would be good!"
"So you will lead me to the caves?"
Hesitation.
"But then you would know where we hide in times of danger. You and your kin could find us and slaughter us!"
"Speak to your father," urged Anomen. "He is, as you say, a wise man. Ask him if he has ever heard tell of an Elf attacking a Dunlending. If he is as truthful as he is wise, he will tell you that when we have fought your kin, it has been in self-defense only."
The bush rustled and fell silent. Anomen sat anxiously. He almost wished that he had a pipe, for it occurred to him now that more than once Mithrandir had used his pipe as a way of passing time and steadying his nerves as he waited for the outcome of some battle or conclave. At last the bush rustled again. Anomen could see two pairs of feet at the base of the bush, the small ones barefoot, the larger ones clad in worn boots.
"Master Elf, my lad here says that ye want to know the way to the caves."
"This fellow is nothing if not forthright!" thought Anomen. He decided to reply in kind.
"Yes. We have been much troubled by Orcs and wish to pursue and slay them."
"I am much troubled by them as well. It seems that, Elf though ye be and Man though I be, we have something in common."
"Aye. That is so. And I trust that we have something else in common, you and I. If you give your word, you are to be trusted. If I give my word, I am to be trusted likewise."
"And ye give your word that ye will never turn against us your knowledge of the whereabouts of our caves?"
"By the Valar, I swear that neither I nor any of my companions will ever do so."
"For my part, I am satisfied—although the fruit trees would be a nice touch as well."
"The fruit trees you shall have."
"Good. When do you wish to set out?'
"The Orcs are mainly abroad at night, are they not?"
"Aye. They are mixed Orcs who will tolerate the light, but they prefer to shun it whenever they can. They are sprung mainly of cave goblins, I don't doubt."
"Then we shall want to move against them at noon, when most of them are likely to be holed up in the caves. I will meet with the leader of our company, who will gather all our patrols together at this place tomorrow morning."
"Good. Until tomorrow, then."
A brief rustling, and the Dunlending and his son were gone. Anomen hastened to Berenmaethor and told him what he had learned.
"So there are caves in Dunland; I never knew that," exclaimed Berenmaethor.
"Nor I. It has been a well kept secret!"
"If we can indeed trap the Orcs in the caves and destroy them, the peril from the south likely will be much reduced for some time to come. Let us make sure that all will be in readiness for tomorrow's battle."
In the morning, the Elves assembled as agreed near the hovel and as set forth, guided by the Dunlending. He led them to the basalt field. At its edge they left their horses, and on foot they followed the Dunlending, who set off without hesitation across the formidable terrain. As the sun neared its zenith, the Dunlending brought them to the very base of the mountain, where he gestured at three gaping openings.
"It is said that lava once gushed forth from these holes, but it has not happened in living memory."
"Aye, lava tubes," said Berenmaethor. "They also can be found in the vicinity of Mount Doom, but there the lava still flows. I would not venture into such a cave in that place! So the Orcs shelter in there?"
"Aye. And as you can see, they have not troubled to set a guard, so sure they are that they are untouchable."
"We shall have to teach them better tactics," said Berenmaethor grimly.
The Man left them then, and Berenmaethor proceeded to put his plan into action. Each Elf was carrying a torch, and now Berenmaethor ordered these brands lit. However, he did not intend to fight the Orcs within the caves themselves. No, that would have played to the Orcs' strengths, for they were accustomed to dark and close spaces. Instead, Berenmaethor divided his warriors into three bands. Their orders were to advance into the caves until they spied Orcs and then to throw their torches amongst them and race back to the surface. The torches were designed to create smoke rather than light, and Berenmaethor thus hoped to force their foes to the surface in full daylight, where they could then be dealt with on the Elves' terms.
The plan worked beautifully. The Elves hurled their torches into the midst of their enemies, and within minutes the Orcs were hacking and gasping for air. A general stampede began in which many of the fell creatures trampled one another. The survivors staggered forth into the sunlight, where most of them were cut down by the waiting Elves. A few of the largest and fiercest, however, managed to break through the ring of Elves.
"Do not let any escape," shouted Baramagor. "We can leave none alive!"
Anomen pursued one of the fleeing Orcs. It was fleet of foot for an Orc and dodged nimbly around every obstacle. At last, just as Anomen was on the verge of cutting the creature down, it darted behind yet another basalt outcropping. As Anomen leapt after him, a stone, loyal only to the earth of Dunland, rolled beneath his feet. As Anomen fell, his head struck a rock. He was momentarily dazed and unable to rise. Seeing his plight, the Orc turned back. Leering, the Orc was raising its scimitar to finish him off when the creature suddenly squealed with pain. Looking down, the Orc gaped stupidly at the sword point that protruded from its chest. Black blood bubbled from its mouth, and it slowly crumpled to the ground. Behind the body stood Erestor. The tutor grunted as he tried to wrest his sword from the body of his foe.
"Must-be-caught-between-two-bones," he gasped. "No-doubt-between-two-bones-of-the-lateral-thoracic-wall!"
"Um, you mean the chest, don't you, Erestor?"
Erestor shot him an irritated look.
"No reason not to use the correct terminology, Anomen."
"I suppose not, except it's quicker to say 'chest' than 'lateral thoracic wall'. By the time you got that phrase out, you might have an arrow through your own 'lateral thoracic wall'!"
"Hmmph," snorted Erestor. Then his sword suddenly came free, and he staggered a few steps backward.
"There," he said triumphantly, regaining his balance. "Proper application of force, that's all it took. A matter of leverage, really."
Amused, Anomen shook his head.
"Let us rejoin the others," he suggested. "Oh, and Erestor," Anomen added.
"Yes, Anomen?"
"Hannon le," he said simply. "I owe you my life."
Erestor tried to look nonchalant. He cleared his throat.
"Oh, that's all right," he said awkwardly.
Anomen was not fooled in the least. To the tutor's surprise, the young Elf laid down his weapons and embraced him. After a moment, Erestor carefully returned the gesture. Then he cleared his throat again.
"We really had better rejoin the others. It is possible that there are more Orcs about, and safety lies in numbers."
Anomen stepped back, grimly nodding his agreement. Then he tried to speak lightly.
"Whence comes this stock of warrior's wisdom?" he teased as they walked back to their companions.
"I fought in the Last Alliance," replied Erestor.
"Did you!? I never knew that!"
"Gil-gilad was a friend of mine," Erestor said quietly. "I saw him die."
Moved, Anomen fell silent.
After a few moments, Erestor spoke again, albeit hesitantly.
"I have always wondered whether I could have done anything to save him. I have always thought that perhaps it was in part my fault that he fell beneath the swords of our foes. Mayhap I did not fight hard enough, bravely enough."
Anomen thought back to something that Mithrandir had once told him.
"Mellon-nîn, the second time I journeyed to the Shire, I saw a Southron murder two Periannath. Afterward I wept in the arms of Mithrandir, crying that I should have saved them. I was certain that I was to blame. Mithrandir told me that I could not blame myself for the deeds of the Enemy. I remember well his words: "We hinder them as best we can, but when our foes succeed, the guilt lies upon their heads, not ours."
"Hannon le, Anomen," Erestor said softly. "I thank you for your words."
They were nearing the others now, and Erestor tried to shake off his solemn mood.
"You have spoken wisely, ion-în," he said with mock sententiousness. "Of course," Erestor added, "that is only to be expected, for you have had the best of tutors, have you not!?"
Anomen snorted. "Oh, yes, and the best of instructors, the best of teachers, the best of educators, the best of lecturers, as well as the best adviser, counselor, guide, and mentor! Have I overlooked any synonyms, tutor Erestor?"
"Yes," he answered smugly. "Professor."
"What?"
"Professor. One who professes."
"And what do you profess?"
"I profess that we had better hasten, else there will be no Orcs left for us to slay."
Indeed, there were no Orcs left to be slain. All that remained was the onerous task of clearing the caves of their bodies. The caverns needed to be cleansed and purified against the day that they might in truth be needed as refuges by the folk of Dunland.
That task completed, the weary yet triumphant Elves set back across the field of basalt. At its edge, they remounted their horses and headed for the Dunlending hovel, where they had left their packs. As they approached the hut, they saw that a generous fire had been built in the clearing before it, and upon the fire rested a cauldron of water. The Dunlending Man stood in the door. As they approached, he came forward.
"My wife has heated some water. If you wish, you may use it for bathing. It is said hereabouts that Elves wither and die if they do not bathe after every battle, whether they are dirty or no."
"Thank you," said Berenmaethor gravely. "You have gone to much effort to collect firewood, which is dear hereabouts. You must let us recompense you."
"No." The Man shook his head vehemently. "It is I who owe you. After you departed this morning, I went to check on my cattle. As I have long been fearing, one of them had been hacked and dismembered. Had the Orcs stayed longer, no doubt they would have devoured them all—and then who knows what they would have turned to for meat!"
Anomen shuddered. He had a very good idea of what would next have caught the eyes of the voracious Orcs.
The Elves took turns scrubbing themselves clean of the foulness of the battlefield while the family of the Man stayed discreetly inside their hut. When the Elves had finished, they pooled their rations and contrived a feast. Anomen approached the door of the shelter and knocked upon it. The Man cautiously peered out.
"It is our custom to bathe but also to feast after the conclusion of a campaign. It is also our custom to invite our friends to take part in the festivities. I pray that you and your family will join us in meal and merriment."
The Man hesitated.
"We will cut very poor figures amongst your company."
"I happen to know," Anomen replied, "that your son is equipped with a truly inestimable set of teeth, and that is all the adornment that is required on an occasion such as this!"
The Man laughed and called into the darkness behind him, "Everyone put forward your best set of gums; we have been invited to a feast."
Anomen heard shouts of something that sounded like "huzzah! huzzah!"—a cheer favored by Men, no doubt—and a gaggle of children tumbled through the door, followed by a shy woman who kept her hood drawn up. One of the children was Anomen's 'bush', and he went boldly up to the young Elf.
"I am Hyge son of Heard."
"Well met, Hyge son of Heard. I am Anomen son of Antadar."
"You are most welcome to Dunland, Anomen son of Antadar," said Hyge grandly.
Anomen bowed.
"We are grateful for your hospitality, Master Hyge."
"You are most welcome," the dignified urchin replied. Just then he saw one of his brothers running off with an armful of apples.
"Hey, Hordwynn, you can't have all of those," Hyge, who instantly abandoned all semblance of decorum as he yelled indignantly and gave chase to the apple-hoarder.
The Elves took only a few mouthfuls of food at this 'feast', preferring instead to enjoy the sight of the children reveling in a repast so splendid—in their minds at least—that for that night they could eat until the pangs of hunger were driven into the corners of their minds.
"There were so many of them," exclaimed Celaithand to Anomen later that evening as they made camp, "and they all came pouring out of that one hut!"
"Men are able to have many children—sometimes more than they can feed. It is both their curse and their blessing, I deem."
Celaithand nodded.
"Aye. Perhaps some day they will learn to moderate their appetites so that their ability to sire children will be purely a blessing and not a burden."
"Either that, or they'd best learn more of the mechanics of the process so that they can guard against adding unplanned additions to the population of Middle Earth."
"What?"
"Oh, that is something Glorfindel has lately said to me."
"Meaning?"
"I think he meant that it is possible to satisfy the appetites whilst at the same time not engendering offspring one cannot feed or raise."
Celaithand looked interested.
"If Glorfindel ever tells you more," he begged Anomen, "pray inform me."
"You will have to get in line with Elladan, Elrohir, Baramagor, and Haldir.
"Oh surely not Haldir!"
Celaithand and Anomen both reverted to elfling form and giggled until they noticed Erestor staring at them. Then they cleared their throats and put on serious expressions as they set about building their campfire.
"Pray tell me," Celathand said pompously, "the exact configuration in which I should lay the fuel in order to generate the greatest luminosity."
"Celaithand," intoned Erestor in a voice that matched the young Elf's, "pray tell me why I shouldn't buffet the cartilage surrounding your auricular orifices."
And then Erestor, too, smiled.