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Chapter 2: Silent Watcher
After an early breakfast the next morning, a reluctant Anomen trailed after Glorfindel as the balrog-slayer strode to the training field to meet the newest class of novices. These little elflings included not only youngsters from Rivendell but also several who had been sent from Lothlórien because of Glorfindel's fame as a teacher who would thoroughly ground his students in both sword and bow. Judging from the cut and color of his tunic, there was even one elfling who haled from Greenwood. Fortunately, this elfling was much younger than Anomen. Still, Anomen studied him carefully until he was quite sure that he did not remember ever having seen him in Thranduil's Great Hall. 'He will not recognize me', Anomen thought with relief. 'Whatever else goes wrong today, I need not fear discovery'.
Glorfindel divided his pupils into two groups. One he supervised. The other, much to Anomen's surprise, he handed over to his 'apprentice'.
"You know the basic rules of the archery field," Glorfindel said to Anomen, "and that is all that must be covered today. At the outset, it is necessary to emphasize safety above all else. Even if not a single target is hit today, it will be enough if no elfling is poked with an arrow or, the Valar forbid, shot by a companion."
Anomen gathered his pupils around him. He was nervous, but he knew that it was important that he not appear to be so, lest the little ones become anxious as well. 'I must act like a grown Elf', he said to himself. 'I must be calm and confident'.
"Who can tell me why you have been sent to learn archery?" he began, mimicking the manner of his elders. "Yes," he said encouragingly to a youngling who looked as if he might be willing to speak.
"To become warriors?" the elfling said tentatively.
"Correct. And why must you become warriors?" Anomen replied.
"Because that is what ellyn grow up to be," the elfling answered. This was a true answer but not a very helpful one. Anomen turned to a second elfling, who, emboldened by the first, was waving his hand in the air to catch the attention of his 'teacher'. "Would it be so very terrible," Anomen asked him, "if ellyn did not grow up to be warriors?"
The elfling long and hard. "Yes," he said at last. "Yes, it would be."
"Why would it be so terrible?"
"Warriors defend our folk. If there were no warriors, nasty creatures would attack our villages."
"What do warriors use to defend our folk?"
"I know that," offered a third elfling. "Warriors use weapons—swords and knives and bows and arrows."
"True. A warrior uses a sword or a knife if he must fight close, a bow for fighting at a distance. But what do these weapons have in common?"
"They have sharp edges!" exclaimed a fourth elfling.
"Why must they be sharp?"
The elflings looked at Anomen as if he had taken leave of his senses.
"It would be pretty silly if they were not," said the first elfling to have spoken. "They wouldn't hurt as much if they weren't sharp."
"So a warrior must hurt others?"
"Ye-es," said the elfling, a little uncomfortable now.
"And it is his weapons that allow him to do so?"
"Yes."
Anomen drew an arrow from his quiver. He proffered it to the elfling. "Touch the tip," he ordered. The elfling did so and immediately drew back his hand.
'Is it sharp?"
"Yes."
"It is sharp so that it can hurt someone?"
"Yes."
"Kill someone?"
"Ye-es."
"Is it sharp only to an enemy?"
"No, it would be sharp to anyone who touched it."
"So it would hurt anyone, not just an enemy?"
"Yes."
"It would kill anyone, not just an enemy?"
"Yes."
Anomen looked around at the faces of his pupils. There had been some giggling and tussling at the outset, but now all watched and listened intently.
"So we are agreed then. An arrow is not choosy. Whomever it hits, it will hurt—maybe even kill. It must be so, else it would not be useful as a weapon."
Nods all around.
Anomen pointed at an elfling. "If an arrow hit you, it would hurt you."
Big-eyed, the elfling said nothing.
Anomen pointed at another elfling. "If you were to shoot an arrow into the body of one of your friends, it would hurt him, is that not so?"
The elfling managed a tiny nod.
"What are we to do, then, since the bow and arrow is so dangerous? Shall we not learn to shoot?"
Silence. Anomen let the silence grow. At last an elfling ventured an answer.
"We must learn to shoot, else we cannot become warriors."
"Then what are we to do?" Anomen repeated. "We do not want to be hurt; nor do we wish to hurt our friends. How are we to solve this problem?"
"We must be careful," offered an elfling, "like our parents. Knives are sharp, too, but when my Nana pares vegetables, she is very careful not to cut herself."
"Mine is, too," chimed in another. "She has told my sister never to cut toward herself."
"So," said Anomen, "there are ways of handling dangerous tools in order to lessen the danger."
"Yes!" chorused his pupils.
"Do you think it would be a good idea to learn ways to handle the bow and arrow so as to lessen its danger?"
"Yes! Yes!" clamored his pupils.
"Then let us do so at once," Anomen said briskly. "The first thing you must remember is to never remove an arrow from your quiver until the order is given. Likewise, you must wait for the order to nock the arrow. What about drawing the string? What do you think the rule may be?"
"Wait for the order!" chanted the elflings.
"What about releasing the arrow?"
"Wait for the order!"
"Good. That is the first rule on the training field. Always wait for your leader to give the command. That rule alone will save you much grief. The second rule is to always look about you with great care."
As Anomen spoke those words, it suddenly occurred to him that he had not looked about him with great care before beginning his descent down the stairs. Had he done so, he would have seen the toy upon the step. But he pushed the thought from his mind, for it was necessary to concentrate on the matter at hand. He returned to the litany of rules.
"Never shoot unless you can see your target in plain view. If you shoot over an obstacle, a friend may be on the other side."
All the elflings nodded gravely.
"Where should you stand on the training field?"
"Not in front of the target!" exclaimed an elfling.
"True. You should only approach the target to retrieve spent arrows—and when is the only time that you should you do so?"
"When the order is given," chanted the elflings.
"Yes. The rest of the time, you must stay behind the firing line. You never, ever want to stand forward of the firing line. You might think you are safe if you are not directly in front of an archer, but arrows sometimes go astray."
Just then Anomen felt a hand upon his shoulder. So intent had he been upon his task that he had not heard Glorfindel approach. Of course, he might not have heard the elf-lord approach in any case. We are speaking of the balrog-slayer, after all.
"I have come to check on your progress," Glorfindel declared. Then he addressed the elflings. "Let us see what you have learned," he said.
The elflings stood in silent awe. Anomen's heart sank, for their performance would surely reflect upon his own. If they would not speak, Glorfindel would think that he had taught them nothing.
"You there," Glorfindel called to one of the elflings, "tell me one archery rule that you have learned today."
The elfling gulped but stammered an answer. "To, to, to wait for orders."
"Good," nodded the elf-lord. The elfling beamed and looked proudly toward a relieved Anomen, who smiled at him.
"What else have you learned today?" Glorfindel asked the elflings.
"To look about very carefully," volunteered a second elfling.
"Never shoot if you cannot clearly see your target," offered a third.
"Be sure to keep behind the firing line," added a fourth.
"Excellent," said Glorfindel. "You have learned well—no doubt because you have been taught well. That will be enough for the first day. It is very hot. Are there any elflings here who wish to swim?"
A shout arose from the assembled elflings, and it was obvious that swimming met with near universal approval. Only the Greenwood elfling remained silent, and Anomen supposed that was because he felt shy at being the only one of his kind. But Glorfindel was speaking again, and Anomen returned his attention to the balrog-slayer.
"Anomen, you know all the best places to swim hereabouts," Glorfindel said, a trace of a smile upon his face. "Escort these elflings to one of them. They may indulge themselves until noon, when they must return to the Hall."
"Yes, Lord Glorfindel," Anomen said, his own smile undisguised. He turned toward his pupils. "One last lesson," he said cheerfully. "We shall walk from the field, rather than run. There is always a chance that an arrow is embedded in the ground hereabouts, and you would not want to stumble into it. Never run on or near the training field."
The elflings nodded their understanding and obediently trailed Anomen from the field in a suitably staid fashion. He led them to a pond that he felt would be eminently suitable, for it was large enough to accommodate the lot of them, and among its attractions was a little island in the middle that Anomen and his foster-brothers had turned into a sort of fort, complete with a trove of slingshots that they used to fling pine cones at each other in the course of their skirmishes.
Once they arrived at this little lake, the elflings quickly stripped and dove in—all save one, that is. The little elf from Greenwood sat on the bank and looked longingly at the water. Anomen was eager to swim, but he hesitated. The little elf did not seem happy, and Anomen thought that perhaps he ought to see what was troubling him. 'A leader must consider the morale of his troops', he mused, 'and for the time being, I am the leader'. He went to sit by the side of the elfling. The elfling looked gratefully at him. 'How lonely he must feel', Anomen thought to himself.
"There were so many rules to go over today," Anomen began, "that we did not learn one another's names. I am Anomen."
The elfling nodded. "I heard Lord Glorfindel call you so."
"Then you have the advantage of me," said Anomen, smiling. "I pray that you will tell me yours."
"Tirndínen."
'That is a fitting name', thought Anomen, 'Silent watcher'.
"Well, Tirndínen, are you not hot?"
"Aye, I am."
"Then why do you not swim?"
"I do not know how," the elfling said unhappily. "I would wade, but, see, the water drops off directly."
"Had you no opportunity to learn? Was there no river or lake nearby?"
"My family lives very close to a great river, but no one swims in it. Anyone who touches its waters will fall asleep at once."
"Ah, yes," said Anomen. "I know of that river."
"You do? None of these other elflings knew of it."
"Oh," stammered Anomen, "I have heard it talked of by a messenger who carries dispatches between Rivendell and Greenwood." This was true, of course, but it did not change the fact that Anomen was personally acquainted with this river. However, it was not necessary that Tirndínen should know this.
"I think," said Anomen, recovering his equanimity, "that you may learn now. This lake will not make you sleepy. On the contrary, you will find its waters bracing!"
Tirndínen hesitated. "But it is so deep. I will sink straightaway!"
Anomen considered what was to done.
"Look you," he said at last. "Yonder is a good-sized branch. You hold one end; I shall hold the other. We shall go into the water, and you can cling to the branch as I give you instructions. By and by you can let go, but I shall make sure that the branch does not float away from you, so that you may seize hold of it any time you like."
Tirndínen liked this plan, and they acted upon it at once. By the time noon approached and they had to return to the Hall, Tirndínen was treading water with confidence. "Perhaps," Tirndínen said hopefully, "Lord Glorfindel will allow us to swim tomorrow as well."
"If he does," Anomen promised, "I shall give you another lesson. Soon you will be swimming as well as any of the others."
Fortunately, the days continued hot. Early each morning the elflings would assemble on the training field, where they would practice at their archery until Glorfindel dismissed them for their daily swim. Then, true to his word, Anomen would give Tirndínen a lesson. At last the day came when the little elfling was able to swim from the shore straight out to the island. Anomen swam beside him, of course, but never for a moment did it look as if the younger Elf would need his assistance. Delighted, Tirndínen pulled himself onto the island, which was filled with elflings variously occupied in roughhousing and tree-climbing. "This is so much better than sitting by myself on the shore," Tirndínen said happily. Triumphantly, he looked back toward his old perch, but then he suddenly gasped. "Anomen!" he cried.
Anomen looked back and gasped as well. Where Tirndínen had once sat, a wolf rested upon its haunches. At least Anomen thought it was a wolf. It was larger than any wolf he had ever seen, and its proportions were somewhat different, with its shoulder raised much higher than its haunches. If Anomen had ever seen a hyena, he would have compared the beast to that creature. He was not familiar with any hyenas, however, and so he had to settle for naming the beast after the animal in his ken that it most resembled. As he watched, it was joined by a second and then a third of its kind.
It was fortunate that all the elflings were either in the water or on the island. Anomen shouted and beckoned to those who were swimming, and soon all the younglings were gathered together on the isle, huddled around Anomen and looking back at the shore fearfully. The three beasts began pacing back and forth upon the shore, casting ravenous looks toward the island. Anomen knew that wolves had been known to enter the water to pull down their prey. These beasts could not be allowed to reach the island. Quickly he moved aside the rocks that hid the slingshots that he and his foster-brothers had cached. There, too, were three practice swords that they had pilfered from the armory. The slingshots were seven in number. Anomen quickly distributed six of them and ordered the elflings to gather as many stones as they could find. Two of the swords he gave to the pair of elflings who seemed the sturdiest. The other sword he kept for himself, along with one of the slingshots.
Their preparations were finished none too soon. The wolves had never left off pacing, and at last it seemed that hunger won out over any reluctance to enter the water. In they leaped and began to swim steadily toward the island.
The elflings readied their slingshots, but Anomen stayed their hands. "We must not waste our shots," he warned. "Wait until I give the order. Upon my command, aim for the eyes."
Stolidly, the elflings stood, waiting for Anomen to give the word. At last he judged that the wolves were near enough for any shot to take effect. "Now!" he shouted. A hail of stones fell upon the wolves. The missiles were well aimed, and two of the wolves, blinded, began to thrash frantically about in the water, in the end going into convulsions and sinking below the surface. The third, however, although blinded in one eye, surged forward. Anomen shouted the retreat for all the elflings save those with swords. Anomen positioned himself in the center and slightly to the advance of his two companions. "I will aim for its throat," he declared. "Then you two come in from the side."
The wolf was upon them and lurched up out of the water, its ravenous jaws gaping. Anomen sprang forward and thrust his sword straight down its gullet. The beast choked and convulsed, but its momentum was unchecked. With Anomen's arm in its maw, it came crashing down. His arm trapped and the weight of the beast upon him, Anomen felt the world go black.