In An Age Before – Part 21
Short update this time folks, with some speculative additions to the scant canon regarding the Drúedain provided by JRRT in UT, Pt. 4, Ch. I, TD, pgs. 377-388.
Chapter Eighteen
Drúwaith Iaur - The Second Age of the Sun
'Twas 25 Gwirith, (April 25th), that being the fourth day of walking after leaving the Rámaen, and Helluin and Beinvír had come to the fork where the Rivers Angren and Adorn converged. 'Twas close to 100 miles east, or upstream, from Sîr Angren's mouth, at least as near as Helluin could reckon, for their way had followed the many curves of the Angren's banks. The land thereabouts was rolling and sheathed in grasses, shrubs, and isolated pockets of trees. To the north, 'cross Angren lay the southern fastness of the forest of the Enedwaith, whilst to the south marched the foothills of the westernmost arm of the Ered Nimrais, the White Mountains. Helluin noted that the Adorn flowed swiftly, and though now far from whence it came down out of the highlands, its waters were still chill. 'Twas too wide and swift to ford where it joined the Angren, and being on its southern bank meant their only choice was to travel upstream to find some point of crossing, and thence make their way north to eventually rejoin the Angren. Helluin had ne'er come hither aforetime and she knew of no bridge or ford. They would simply have to keep their eyes open and trust to luck.
Another factor of which she had no firsthand knowledge was the area's inhabitants. A few rumors told of a kindred of Men called Drúedain who made their homes in that land. 'Twas said they were odd, ancient, sundered in speech from other Men, and had no friendship with the Enedwaith. Helluin thought that natural enough. She couldn't imagine any folk being fast in friendship with the Enedwaith of the forests, or their fisher folk cousins along the coast. Beyond such scant rumors was only the fact that none with whom she had e'er spoken had met any of that kindred, nor was she even certain that such indeed existed. Still, the land they traveled had long been called Drúwaith Iaur, the Old Land of the Drú. Unfortunately, Drú was an unfamiliar word from no tongue Helluin spoke. And so, being naturally inclined to suspicion, Helluin went forward warily, and Beinvír as well.
Three more days passed, but the Elves had found neither a ford, nor a crossing, and they continued up the Adorn into a country grown watchful. 'Twas quiet all about, as if some doom hung o'erhead, yet the land lay fair all 'round them and no threat could either discern. The river ran clear and fast beside them, but no boats plied its waters. The mountains waited, looming up silent and e'er closer ahead. Few birds did they espy, and these flitted quickly from copse to thicket, uttering no calls or songs. Neither did they see domestic herds or abundance of game, nor any homestead or smoke from a fire. And ne'er did they see any evidence of habitation. Helluin reckoned they had traversed half the distance up the Adorn to the mountains.
That night Helluin and Beinvír sat together with their backs against a great rock, outcropped from a hillside. A meager fire, burning low in a small trench at their feet, provided heat, but showed forth little light, a precaution of hunters and scouts.
"Thou know'th that our passage has been marked these last days," Beinvír said, her voice coming softly at Helluin's elbow in the dark.
"I presumed so, but no sign of the watchers have I seen, yet like thee I have felt eyes upon me, silent and watchful as a ghost." Her own eyes ne'er stopped roving through the darkness beyond their camp, e'er searching for the telltale movement of a shadow, or the soft report of a footfall. 'Twas futile, Helluin had learnt from the past nights' vigils. She found it deeply irritating. "I have half a mind to fire this whole country just to flush them out, and thereby satisfy my curiosity at the least," she muttered to herself.
Beinvír, who had become accustomed to Helluin's moods, grinned in the dark. A part of her could imagine Helluin doing just so, then waiting amidst the flames merely to catch a glimpse of their phantom stalkers ere she herself burned.
"Were they Galadrim I should know it," Beinvír said, "and they knowing us would have presented themselves long ere now. No others I have met can match us in stealth or woodscraft. Yet if there be in fact eyes upon us such as it feels, then they art crafty beyond the measure of my people." There had been no sounds, no motions at the corners of her vision, and no tracks.
That statement was greatly unsettling. Helluin's experience of the Laiquendi had given her an appreciation of their skills. From the first time Dálindir had risen from nothing but a pile of leaves in Ossiriand, she had been more than impressed with their stealth. The thought of others yet again more skilled was threatening indeed. She was quite ready to believe well 'nigh any rumors of the Drúedain, save that there was almost nothing to be believed. There were no stories telling about them, no claims that she had e'er heard, no…knowledge.
"Rest, my friend," Helluin said, "and I shalt keep watch again."
They had allowed the fire to burn low, and Beinvír leant into Helluin's side for warmth as she let her mind wander wide upon the roads of thought. Helluin draped a cloak about them and sat still, staring through narrowed lids to hide the whites of her eyes as they slowly rove 'cross the landscape. To any watchers they had become indistinguishable from the great boulder at their backs.
O'erhead Ithil made his way 'cross the heavens; still Helluin didn't move. Another night passed away into memory and finally Vingilot arose heralding the coming dawn. Dew formed. Stillness descended as the world awaited the new day's opening hour. In the east the sky lightened, dimming Varda's stars. And a half-mile off to the west, Helluin finally caught the heartbeat brief sheen of a reflection, as of Vasa's first ray glinting on a watching eye. In an instant 'twas gone.
She sat and examined her memory of the fleeting vision, as if it were a painting etched indelibly upon the canvas of her mind's recall. Into that image she let herself fall, as one watching the approaching water's surface whilst plunging down in a dive from a great height. Closer and closer she came. Thither! 'Twas beside a tree's dark trunk, one reflection only and for but a heartbeat, yet it had been real! No phantom of desire for the wages of her vigil was this!
Helluin willed the image in her memory to brighten, casting the Light of her fëa onto the canvas that she saw, illuminating details her mind had stored, but that her waking eye in that moment had not perceived. Dim silhouette against the star-speckled sky; half a figure stood revealed beyond the trunk's profile, squat, thick, and still. Thither for a heartbeat only, dark against dark ere it blended smoothly back into the blackness of the bole. Without thought a grin shaped her lips. She withdrew from the memory. This she would share with her friend!
Helluin pursed her lips and blew forth a stream of air from the side of her mouth to fluff the top of Beinvír's hair. The Green Elf moved only her eyes, raising and focusing them on Helluin's. She quirked a brow in question. Gazing eye to eye, they spoke in silent communication, and Helluin showed her friend what she had discovered. Beinvír's eyes widened in surprised acknowledgment, and at the recall of an old memory. Now she had a story to tell. She raised her head from Helluin's shoulder and spoke in a whisper.
"Dálindir once told to me a tale of old Beleriand; of the Edain of Haleth, the Haladin, who came o'er the Ered Lindon and at first dwelt in Thargelion beyond Ascar. Thither they made many homesteads and small settlements, and those most southern were 'nigh the northern border of Ossiriand. Some few of these became known to Dálindir, for he at times met with Caranthir in his realm to the north.
Now 'twas told that amongst the Haladin there dwelt in small numbers, a rustic people who had been long associated with that host; people who in their own tongue were called the Drúg. In looks they were short and thick, thicker even, and little taller, than Dwarves, but 'twas their faces that most set them apart. Flat they were and wide, with a heavy ridge o'er their eyes, and those set deeply beneath, almost black, piercing and steady, and they looked long and far, and with great acuity. They were flat also of nose, broad of cheek and chin, and their teeth were large in their wide mouths. Indeed Dálindir said they appeared as the work of someone of little craft carving a figure but poorly and for the first time. His thought was that they were perhaps made by the Dwarves of Nogrod and brought to life through some incantation of Aulë, but the Haladin said 'twas not so. They had shared the road with the Drúg since meeting them 'nigh the Hithaeglir many generations aforetime.
'Whyfor dost thou share thy dwelling places?' Dálindir had asked, and the Haladin replied that, 'they art steadfast and true. No better trackers or watchmen have we met in all of Middle Earth, and in battle they art deadly with poisoned dart and bare hands. Now from thy description I should say the Drúedain and the Drúg art one and the same, and that we have indeed come to that country whither long ago the Haladin first met them."
"'Tis strange that I have heard no tales of them," Helluin said, for she had lived those years in Beleriand, whilst Beinvír had been born only later in Eriador.
"Indeed only that single tale did Dálindir e'er tell of them," Beinvír replied. "Yet it seems to me that later the Haladin marched west, first to Estolad, and thence to Brethil."
Helluin thought back to the First Age of the Sun. From Vinyamar she had followed Turgon son of Fingolfin into the isolation of Gondolin in F.A. 116. Only by the tidings of the Eagles had word come of the appearance of the three houses of the Elf-friends, and that had begun well 'nigh 200 years later. Indeed the first time she had seen any of the Edain was when Húrin and Huor had been conveyed to the Hidden City by two of Thorondor's vassals. That had been just ere F.A. 460. If the Drúg had been few and living in the Forest of Brethil, than 'twas little wonder she had ne'er known of it. She nodded her head a fraction of an inch in understanding. The Gondolindrim had no stories of the Drúg, and if any had been known in Doriath, they had come not down Sirion to Avernien with Elwing's people, so far as she had heard.
"So now perhaps we shalt meet the fourth house of the Atani," she whispered, "and if they shoot us not with their darts, I shalt do them honor, these old enemies of Morgoth."
In the opening hour after dawn they removed from their camp and continued their way upriver. Many more miles did they cover ere Anor approached the zenith. As noon drew 'nigh, Helluin and Beinvír found a place whither the southern bank rose steeply up, and soon they were looking down at the watercourse, and thence 'cross it, north to the opposite bank.
As they'd come upstream the river had narrowed by degrees, 'til now it ran but four fathoms in breadth, yet it flowed fast and deep. At a bend it undercut the southern bank by a fathom so that the far shore lay but three fathoms distant and ten feet lower. Helluin stopped and regarded the river both upstream and down. She nodded her head; 'twas the best possibility she had yet seen.
"Hither we might chance a crossing," she told Beinvír, "and no more favorable place have I seen, nor, I think, is any better to be found upstream so far as I can see. Wilt thou join me in a leap to thither bank?"
Beinvír scrutinized the gap, its breadth and height, then looked down into the fast flowing waters below. She gulped. Then she looked upstream, shading her eyes with a slender hand ere she turned back to Helluin.
"T'would not be my first choice, but it doth appear to be our only choice," she said.
Helluin nodded in agreement. 'Twouldn't have been her first choice either.
About them the land was sheathed in coarse grasses, whilst a few shrubs grew in clumps a couple fathoms back from the bank, but the brink itself was of hard, bare rock and seemed sturdy. A few boulders sat hither and thither amidst the grasses, but 'twas space enough for a good running start ere they leapt. No deer could ask for more. Helluin shed her travel gear and stepped to the edge of the bank, then she began pacing back from it, counting her strides. Beinvír watched her apprehensively.
Helluin had backed away eight paces, enough to reach her full stride ere she leapt, and she found herself standing amidst waist high grass, with a boulder close by on her right atop a larger outcropping. She dismissed it at first glance, but a moment later whirled back around, drawing her sword by reflex and standing facing the rocks in a defensive crouch. The rock didn't move, but continued to watch her impassively.
Indeed as she looked more closely, Helluin discerned that 'twas a figure seated beside a rock, not merely a rock, and cleaving to it so that its profile was obscured. With a gulp, she sheathed her sword and approached. Behind her, Beinvír lowered her bow and slacked the tension on the arrow she had knocked when Helluin drew her sword. She watched as her friend walked toward what could only be a Drúg.
When she stood but an arm's length away, the Drúg released his grasp on the boulder and sat straight, crossing his legs and laying his palms flat upon his thighs. He looked up, meeting her eyes without fear or guile. 'Twas as direct and unguarded a glance as she could remember, but at the same time 'twas piercing, as if seeing clearly into her heart. If his physical appearance was startling and unfamiliar, she found her reaction submersed 'neath her wonder at his eyes. None of the Atani, not even the Kings of Númenor, had e'er looked at her with a perceptiveness that rivaled the Amanyar. Thus she tried to speak to him in silence as she did with Beinvír, or others of the Eldar to whom she was familiar.
Greetings thou, O Watcher still and crafty. I have felt thy eyes but seen 'naught of thee 'til now, and thence by chance only. Art thou of the kindred of the Drúg?
He furrowed his brow slightly and looked at her more closely, cocking his head a degree as if harkening to a voice.
"Strange. Speak words you, not of mouth," he said in the Common Speech. His voice was low and rough and his expression didn't change.
Since Helluin didn't care for the Common Speech she continued speaking in silence.
I am Helluin, Eglan¹; with me is Beinvír, Elleth². ¹ ²(Eglan, Exiled Elf, and Elleth, Female Elf, both are generic terms. Sindarin)
"Glûn, Drúghu¹," he said, thumping his barrel chest once. "Deer leap, you go." ¹(Drúghu, their own word for themselves. Drúedain and the earlier Drúath are Sindarin. UT, Pt. Four: I The Drúedain, Note 6, pg. 385)
Yes. We need to cross the river. We have far to travel. Helluin pointed to the dim specter of the Misty Mountains, just barely visible far to the north. Glûn snorted.
"You go. Drúghu stay. Good walking, you."
Helluin wanted to say more. She had many questions, but the Common Speech was barely more than a minimal carrier of ideas and obviously 'twasn't Glûn's native tongue. But more than that, the Drúghu had already stared past her into the distance. He hadn't moved an inch, but 'twas as if he had dismissed her from his world and the two Elves no longer existed for him. Somehow she had expected more from this meeting, had been anticipating learning new things, or hearing strange stories. It had been a long time since she had met a wholly unknown kindred of intelligent beings, and now she felt disappointed and irritable. She shrugged and turned back to Beinvír.
"Toss our things o'er to me after I cross," she said. At her words, Glûn lifted his head and blinked, but Helluin was already facing away and saw it not.
When the Green Elf nodded, Helluin immediately sprinted forward. She crossed the eight paces and then leapt straight out into the air. Ere she'd crossed half the distance she knew she'd make it easily, indeed with room to spare.
Helluin's leap had taken her a good two paces past the far bank. She landed softly, cushioning her touchdown by bending her legs to absorb the impact. When she turned back she saw Beinvír looking relieved, standing on the higher bank with their travel bags in her hands. She tossed the first and Helluin caught it and set it down. She tossed the second and that too Helluin snagged in flight and set at her feet. Now Helluin moved forward to the edge of the bank to lend her friend a hand should her jump carry her short. Beinvír nodded to her and then disappeared as she backed out of sight.
Some time passed and Helluin became worried ere she heard at last a rushing of feet. Beinvír appeared at the edge and took flight in a mighty leap that carried her up as well as out from the far bank. As Helluin watched, Beinvír flew o'er the water in a smooth arc, her legs still churning as if she was running through the air. She landed in mid-stride and continued on for several paces as she bled off her speed. Her jump had outdistanced Helluin's by a good fathom. After retrieving their bags, they continued upon their way.
"Well, the Drúg was a great disappointment," Helluin complained somewhat later as they walked north from the Adorn. " Indeed he may as well have been a rock."
"Helluin, he understood thy speech mind to mind," Beinvír said, "and who amongst Men hast thou spoken to thus in the past?"
Helluin thought back. In truth she had ne'er tried speaking in that way with mortals.
"With Men I converse in Adûnaic or Sindarin, or more rarely in Quenya, and at whiles in the Common Speech when 'naught else will serve."
"Whyfor then did thou speak thus to Glûn?" Beinvír asked.
"'Twas the way he looked at me," Helluin answered, "as one blessed with the deep sight. I thought it wise, knowing not what speech he had, to converse thus, directly mind to mind. I shouldn't have tried it with one who first hailed me aloud. He only sat staring at me, much as a speechless beast, or one dumb of tongue."
"Yet thou persisted thus after he spoke."
"'Twas because I detest the Common Speech. It expresses so little, and he understood me. 'Twas…interesting."
"I suspect at first he deemed us spirits and not of this world," Beinvír said, "speaking thus without words. Perhaps therefore he thought us of no consequence, or perhaps even a hazard, and returned his attention thence to this world ere he be drawn into some other."
Helluin groaned. Such thinking she could understand, primitive and superstitious as 'twas.
"Ere I made my jump, he spoke again," Beinvír said after a while, "warning of the gôrgbu¹ that clove to me. He did thus, I deem, for thou spoke aloud to me ere thy leap, and yet not so to him, and unlike him, I answered thee not with words; therefore perhaps he deemed me living and thou not." ¹(gôrgbu, ghost. Hypothetical Drúghu word)
Helluin stared at her, for the moment speechless. Beinvír giggled.
"What, pray tell, is a gôrgbu?" Helluin asked.
"'Tis what his people call the spirit of one struck dead that lingers yet in the world. They oft speak in strange tongues and art given to mischief, and to causing confusion amongst the living for a time ere they fade away at last into their proper realm to the north¹. I tried to reassure him of thy living. He would hear none of it." ¹(This belief of the Drúg is not canon.)
"But surely when he saw and heard me speak to thee…?" Helluin began to protest in frustration.
"He saw me see thou as he himself saw thee," Beinvír said, "and thy spoken words made to him no sense at all, for his people understand not the Sindarin tongue. 'Twas all the proof he needed. 'Naught that I could say dissuaded him ere I had to leave. It matters not, though I wonder if thou can see some humor in it?"
"I cannot," Helluin said and turned to stomp off in the direction of the distant Hithaeglir.
When Beinvír caught up to her, she was still muttering, "…thinks me a ghost he does, he of apish face and cattle's eye. Would that I had pricked him ere I sheathed my sword. Then would he believe indeed that I still walk this earth. Hmmm, back thither I should go and gouge him once; therein I should find some humor indeed. Gôrgbu, ha!"
She continued fuming thus for several miles, inveighing without pause, all the while Beinvír finding the stifling of her laughter increasingly difficult.
"'Tis but thy expectations going unmet that disappoint thee," she said, but Helluin harkened not to her words. The Green Elf followed a while longer in silence, but spoke again at last.
"Helluin, peace. Thou hast already confused him. Returning thus to poke at him with thy sword would only serve to prove the part about making mischief. T'would leave him wholly persuaded of thy…gôrgbu-ness."
At this comment, Helluin growled. Beinvír at last failed of her comportment and collapsed on the ground in hysterics. After a while, Helluin sat on the ground at her side.
"I suppose now to my titles I shalt add, 'Gôrgbu of Drúwaith Iaur'. Impressive indeed, as none shalt know what honor it signifies." And at last she managed a chuckle.
Now in the following week the two friends passed 'twixt the Hithaeglir and the Ered Nimrais by tracking the course of the Angren. Soon it turned due north and they continued east. On 6 Lothron, (May 6th), S.A. 1375 they passed the easternmost outlier of the southernmost vale of the Hithaeglir and turned their steps towards a great and deep forest that neither had entered aforetime. Twice now Helluin had passed this wood as she made her way south down Anduin, but she had not tarried thither either in 523 or 1125. And yet she had always regarded the sight of it with curiosity. Surely at one time it had been connected to Greenwood, and perhaps to the original forests of Eriador as well.
"I have been 'nigh this wood twice aforetime, yet did not enter," Helluin told Beinvír as they drew closer, "but it seems I shalt explore it at last, if only as we pass through."
"'Tis a great old wood surely, and no doubt filled with its own life and secrets. What, perchance dost thou think to find therein?"
"I know not, save that I shalt be accepted amongst the living, but were I to name some of what kinds we may find thither, than I should say Onodrim, and perhaps their mates. Thither may also be Huorns," she said uncomfortably, "and perhaps trees with whom we shalt speak. I hope to find no Yrch, being 'nigh Hithaeglir, but further south than they art wont to go. I suppose we shalt see what we shalt see."
To Be Continued