THE HALADIN

by Archaic Scribe

Chapter X

THE FATEFUL SORTIE

The dusk came too fast, baring skeletal limbs upon sturdy tree trunks, the unforgiving wind pulling down already overburdened and saturated leaves, their brilliant array of warm gold, rust-colored orange and crimson red a damp blanket over the earth. A kaleidoscopic burst of color that never had the opportunity to be seen in its glory when the sunlight burst forth with reflection on the leaves. No, there was only a secret photosynthesis in the black and gray light the obstructed every merry attempt of the sun's radiance.

The Haladin had already mounted most of their limited defenses against the problematic northern wall set tightly against the steep embankment of the River Gelion where they expected most of the Orcs to attack them. But Haldad was no fool in this matter and after a great deal of convincing was able to arrange for Tunni and some of his men to mount a defense at the opposite wall where Haleth and he had entered the night before under the duress of hungry Orcs. Furthering his renewed vigor, he was also able to convince Lord Tunni to accept a small group of his most elite women warrior's, with Jorhild as their strongest asset.

With near relief at the idea of Jorhild instead of Haleth to fight alongside, Lord Tunni grudgingly agreed to Haldad's proposal and immediately took his disciplined infantry to the other far wall.

The night wore away, the Haladin waning in strength and endurance as the Orcs proceeded to test their defenses. For now, they were safe after Beinir lead the charge in stabilizing and reinforcing a wall in place of each of the entries, both to the north and south, building themselves into the fort with no escape in addition to building more ladders with the little remaining wood that could be found.

Both entries now blocked, the Haladin had only to reign down arrows of fire upon the enemy, who finally retreated and made their way back to the Haladin's old campsite. The only chance a messenger would have to reach the elf lord, Caranthir, was to brave the steep embankment Haldad had forbidden them to climb when they performed the last touches on the stockade. Now, there was little choice in the matter. It was a gamble that had to be taken in order to bring a greater salvation to the people, as a whole.

The success of their shooting campaign left much to be desired, and both Haldad and Lord Tunni realized it immediately as the peasants and farmers aimed with all the passion of their heart and none of the experience of even a hunter. Those who met their marks, were either trained warriors or were hunters who traded pelts at the trade center of Mulco.

Despair ran rampant throughout the camp that morning as the fighting men and women of the Haladin were more ready for sleep after the surprise battle than the night before, fatigue and hunger beginning to make its appearance. Nobody had dared to harvest water from the river, on account of the steep bank, but soon, that too would have to come down to a gamble of desperation.

At noontime, with absolutely no food to sustain them, the election of leaders gathered to assess their continually depressing situation.

"We must send the messenger now," Lord Tunni fervently insisted to the others who stood in the meeting circle as he looked skyward, noting the blur of the sun's position in the sky behind more drab clouds. "The steady downpour of rain has ceased after long last and though the water is high and the cliff steep, there can be no more delay!"

"Aye!" Mulco agreed with zealous enthusiasm, "The time is indeed now!"

"Aye," Haldad said, "Let this be done at once then."

Mulco immediately motioned for his men to carry out their orders as Haldad sighed deeply and silence ensued the small crowd, all lost in silent thought for a moment.

"We must also prepare a sortie to surprise the enemy and draw them away from the northern shore so that our messenger can safely make shore and continue on fleet feet to the elf lord of the north," Haldad said with even determination in his eyes. "We must give the messenger all hope to succeed in this task, for our very lives depend upon it."

Tunni's stomach growled with impatient hunger, "There is no way to exit the fortress save the Gelion and to attack the enemy with our limited numbers, even if we used all of our men, would be folly. We do not have the numbers to match their swelling ranks or even their weapons, even should we employ our women or children."

This cost Lord Tunni much of his pride to vocalize such contemplation among his peers, but the evenness of logic overpowered his emotion, for what may have been a rare occurrence.

"I will prepare and lead a sortie over the wall, using Beinir's ladders to climb up and then down near the southern entrance," Haldad said as if Tunni had not spoken. "If we kill their small guard near the southern entrance silently, we can steal around the corner of the structure and draw all of them to us, well away from the north were the messenger will try to regain land."

However, being a master strategist and experienced warlord, Lord Tunni openly considered his idea.

"Mad as it sounds - I am with you then," Tunni stated as he looked directly into Haldad's eyes as the men sealed their word with an ancient agreement between warriors and men.

Turning briefly to Haleth, who stood quietly in their circle, he bowed and departed to prepare his weapons and men for the sortie that would depart as soon as they were gathered.

Haldad turned to his daughter, the wonder of puzzlement evaporating and a sudden recognition in his eyes, which Haleth blithely ignored as she turned to seek Haldan, so that Jorhild and Haldar would have a few stolen moments to talk before the sortie went out.

"Haldar!" Haldad said unexpectedly as they stood at the top of the southernmost tower, "I need you to stay here and defend our escape root."

Nodding with disappointment, Haldar obeyed his father and stood his ground at the bottom of the ladder on the outside of the structure as Tunni's mercenaries skillfully crept quietly upon the Orc guards, slitting their throats with ease.

Haleth stood at the top of the tower with bow and arrows with a few of the guards who prepared and ready to provide aerial support to her brother if more guards should come to relieve their comrades. The sun began to boldly make its way through the clouds and Haleth took it as a good sign from the gods they worshiped that they may yet accomplish what they intended in this mission.

Haleth watched her father and Lord Tunni, moving covertly with effortless lightness toward the Orc armies that occupied the campsite. A modest group of their soldiers were halfway to the northern gate when Haldad bellowed an ear-splitting battle cry, which drew the Orcs to the Haladin warriors. Haleth turned and searched for the messenger in the distance, barely making out his form as he climbed up the steep cliff, drenched and much more cold than she was, she thought with pity. His miniscule form seemed to be going more slowly than was natural, but he had reached the pinnacle of the shoreline and the small speck that was his body, made its way quickly onto the plain.

Alas, the Orcs were not to be completely distracted as one in their ranks spotted him and shot at him from the distance with whizzing arrows, penetrating the messenger's flesh with imperfect accuracy as he stumbled on the leg that had been injured. As the Orc pursued the messenger, growing nearer and nearer, the Haladin of the North watchtower loosed a blanket of arrows that stopped the Orc in his tracks, his heavy form thudding to the ground.

Would the Haladin of the tower pursue the messenger and bind his injuries or bring him back to safety? No, Haleth thought with regret, they had made themselves prisoners in their own keep and to do such a thing would be insane. They would have to pray the messenger did not sustain fatal injuries and could make it to the elven lord of the north. She could see the messenger's fallen form as he moved slowly, dragging himself along the ground.

Mother Freya, accept this sacrifice of blood to your womb and allow your servant to reach the elven lord of the north, Haleth prayed silently.

Turning away from the messenger as he crawled into the underbrush that was on the edge of the meadow, she turned her attention to the battle fought nearer to them.

Haleth's eyes narrowed against the sun which grew stronger and brighter, bursting through the dismal clouds like a beacon of hope as she watched Tunni massacre any of the enemy who stood near him. He was a large man, even among warriors and more noticeable than any who stood among their people, proud and skillful in his craft.

Haldad was fighting passionately, but it looked as if the Orcs were beginning to converge upon him and as he fought off blow after blow, he went quickly from being on the offensive to being put on the defensive.

The black, foul beasts were circling him and Haleth longed to call to Tunni, but as Lord Tunni suddenly turned and realized what was happening, it was too late. A wide swing of an Orc who had been behind her father sent his head flying through the air, a geyser of crimson reaching to the vault of heaven. Even at a distance, Haleth saw too many unwanted details of her father's death.

Haleth did not move for fear she would collapse as she commanded herself to grab the wall with her hands, leaning forward and forcing breath in and out of her body as all in her vision blurred to dangerous white spots. All of the men of the Haladin lay still under the Orc blades as the creatures began to tear at the flesh of those who had fallen under their iron and steel, grotesque chunks of bloody flesh dripping and hanging from their sharp fangs and loathsome mouths.

The women beside her gently forced her sit as and pushed her head forward to rest upon her knees and without any utterance, Haleth allowed herself to be cared for without protest or sensibility.

As Haleth's clarity was thrown away to the wind, a Haladin scout had made his way back to given his report to Haldar, who could not see the gruesome battle. As Haleth regained her post at the height of the lookout tower, she beheld Tunni running at remarkable acceleration towards the entrance and Haldar running to meet him. Tunni made a lunge toward Haldar, trying to grab his arm and bring him back with him, but Haldar slipped from his grasp and made a wide arch around the Orcs, drawing most of the enemy forces after him. Tunni turned and watched Haldar disappear into the hungered mob of foaming Orc mouths, his body being ripped to shreds against the razor sharpness of their claws and the crude desperation of their fangs. Tunni fled faster towards the entrance, where Haleth stood upon the watchtower.

As Tunni finally reached the bottom of the ladder, he paused as Haleth turned suddenly to him, the trauma of shock and misery covering her features. Tunni blinked, as if a part of him could not comprehend what he was about to do, and picked up the ladder and threw it into the raging waters where the Gelion and Ascar merged, the wood splintering on the rocks below them.

My desire is to defend you from harm, lady, so let your remembrance of me be kind, Tunni thought with deep contrition, I know now that I must show my love for you in a way you can understand - should you ever come to knowledge of it, may you forgive me for my ruthless deed.

Lord Tunni turned, raising his magnificent battle-ax for the last time, making a wide swing as a massive number of Orcs converged upon him with vicious gluttony as Haleth turned away from witnessing another brutal death of a body hacked mercilessly to pieces.

The women next to her shot futile arrows in defense, but to little noticeable avail, bringing down only a small number of Orcs, who were heedless and oblivious to wounds, wanting only to gorge themselves on man-flesh. The enemy rejoiced with an unsung victory as they ate upon the large man among the Haladin who had brought death to so many of their numbers.

Haleth put a gentle, restraining arm on the warrior women next to her and motioned for her to accompany her down the steps. This battle had exacted a great price upon their people.

Haleth pushed her own grief aside and approached Jorhild with trepidation as Haldan squirmed in front of her, her hold tight on him as he struggled to break free from her grasp as the other children were running in excited circles, playing a game of tag near them.

"Let him go with his friends," Haleth commanded softly.

Jorhild looked at her in a brief display of anger before she turned to meet Haleth's eyes, but seeing the strange expression, soundlessly let Haldan flee from her arms to join the other children.

How can I recount Jorhild these tragic tidings - Haleth thought with a great, uncomfortable ache pressing against her heart. Haleth began to furiously blink back the tears that welled in her eyes and began to spill down her cheeks as she inwardly flinched at the important news still left unspoken. Jorhild opened her mouth as comprehension dawned with realization and pulled her sister-in-law into a solid, encompassing embrace.

"Haldad is dead," Jorhild whispered with sadness in her ear as the two held desperately to one another before she added, "But where is my husband, Haldar?"

Haleth sobbed harder, but Jorhild broke their embrace, holding Haleth at arms length, giving her a little shake as Haleth began to shake her head, the sobs coming in uncontrolled spasms.

"No," Jorhild said lowly in disbelief, shaking her head as her hands dropped from Haleth's arms.

"He died valiantly," Haleth uttered between sobs.

Jorhild shook her head again and walked away into the distance towards the cliff overlooking the River Gelion, silent and still as a foreboding feeling overtook Haleth.

Haleth began to walk fast behind her, breaking into a run as she grew more anxious as she finally stood next to Jorhild, who's numb expression shown no intelligent awareness in behind eyes full of sorrow.

"You are even more greatly needed, my sister," Haleth said firmly, "It is only you, Haldan and I who remain."

A long silence enveloped the two women who stood looking at the brilliant glimmering water below them when Jorhild finally responded with a nod and made her way back to Haldan.

With their numbers dwindling and a small number of women skilled enough to fight or defend against the enemy, Haleth's mind began to catapult into a numb chaos. There was no food or drinkable water, she had only women and children along with a small group of men that remained, and she was now solely responsible for all of the Haladin, losing her father, brother and newly christened friend to the diabolical weapons of the enemy along with question at weather the messenger would live to deliver a plea for aid to the elven lord of the north.

Haleth put her face in her hands for a moment, brushing droplets of tears from her streaked face and then turned, straightened her back and strode back amongst the people to call a meeting of those who remained.

"Attention, Haladin!" she shouted loudly over the crowds of people, "Gather to me, my friends!"

Slowly, the remainder of people clamored in a semi-circle around Haleth as she spoke with firm resolve, "Godi Chieftain Haldar, his son Haldar and the Warlord Tunni have fallen at the hands of the enemy."

Gasps were murmured from the crows as those who had not heard the news reacted. After stilling the crowd, Haleth continued, "Though we have no food or consumable water, we must find the strength to defend ourselves against the enemy when he next attacks."

"Attacks," a random voice from the crowd said, "We are fully fortified in our stockade - how can they issue further attack?"

Haleth narrowed her eyes, "In a way I hope they do not ever consider."

The crowd murmured comments and questions amongst themselves before Haleth called them to order again.

"Fire can be used as a deadly weapon," she with more calm than she felt, her insides twisting with dull pain, "And as most of you realize, our entire fortification is made of timber."

More gasps floated to her ears from the crowd as she pressed on, "I call upon any who can bear arms to stay, while the rest of you depart. We must hold council and determine what we must do to provide safety to all who dwell here."

The most of the women in the concourse dispersed to collect their children, talking vividly among themselves as they fell away from Haleth and those who remained.

Haleth stood silent, feeling as if she could weep for days and not really knowing what she should say next as Beinir stepped next to her and put a solid hand on one of her shoulders before he spoke, "You are our leader, Haleth, and we stand with you to the death."

The small crowd shook their heads with vigorous nods of agreement as she spoke, the words coming upon her at once, "Firstly, we should start training some of those who have left us. We will make the offer and those who have the heart, can volunteer for I would not force my will upon another, even for such a situation as this. We have gone too many days without water or food. Before this day is done, we must send someone down the cliff on a rope to get water to boil. The rains have ceased, but I trust not to the sunny skies. If we can not attain food, at the very least, we may have water."

"What of our messenger?" a stocky woman asked.

"That," Haleth said cynically, "Is something we can have no control over and so we must trust to faith and hold firm any doubt that may come at bay."

"I see strong maids of farming strength that should be able to wield a weapon, who's minds are strong with cunning," Jorhild said nonchalantly, "We need them and convince them to train."

"Aye," they all agreed.

"Approach them now, before these discussions proceed," Haleth dictated with firm purpose.

Jorhild returned bringing forth many of the women who had departed, only those with infants remained in a separate gathering to care for the children.

"We need your strength," Haleth said sincerely, "But would not have my own will pressed upon you. This is a choice you must make of your free will and I will give you no delusions as to what your fate may be if you agree. It will be hard training, the like of which shall be intensified due to lack of food and water where your body shall beg for mercy the like of which long labors on your own farmstead cannot compare. You may well meet the same fate of the men who died today."

The farming wives stood planted to their spots like majestic, grand old trees, their faces set like stone as one stepped towards Haleth and said, "You have my pledge, cheiftainess Haleth, to use whatever skill you can wring out of this aged body."

Haleth smiled for what seemed like the first time in years in spite of the hopeless plight she had been placed at the head of and chuckled as the rest followed suit, stepping towards her and nodding their agreement.

"Let it be so, then," Haleth said as she raised her hand in the blessing of supreme leader and priestess before continuing, "Let us pray to Freya for the safety of those souls who look down upon us from Valhalla and their safe passage to the Great Halls."

Though water had been provided, it had been sparingly, for the dangerous pulley system they had designed to bring water from the Gelion was slow and dangerous, with little efficiency.

Training the farm-maids had gone better than expected, in Haleth's musing, and she felt confident they would be prepared as well as they could for any future attack from the Orcs, but their numbers where not near a valid defense.

The days of training and coordinating water and care for the Haladin had left Haleth little time to dwell on the death of her father and brother, and thoughts of Lord Tunni, thankfully did not haunt her like they had when Bryeth had been lost to her. At night during the rotating watchtower duty, she had always fallen into an exhausted and dreamless sleep, and for that, she was grateful.

Even with an industrious schedule over the last six days, she had a clear, foreboding apprehension of misfortune, and anticipated an upcoming Orc attack soon. At nighttime, the Haladin could hear the yells and fights among the Orcs, growing restless with hunger and the thirst for human blood.

It was a shame, Haleth thought, that they had not had enough time to dig deep, spiked pits around the entire perimeter of the stronghold.

That night, after darkness had well embraced the land, the thud of Orc ladders could be heard upon the fortification walls.

Disclaimer:

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.