In An Age Before – Part 63
Upon the following day, Helluin and Beinvír were led to a grotto in the Emyn Duir where a stream flowed down from the higher ground. 'Twas a pleasant setting of wide flat rocks, with a pool and a large oak of great girth whose o'erhanging branches were lit with many pendant lamps. 'Neath this tree were set chairs of wood, and upon the centermost sat King Oropher with his back against the trunk. Upon his right hand sat Prince Thranduil, and about them in a semi-circle were seated a dozen advisors. A throng of Elves occupied the grotto where their king held court, and these ceased their speech and music making to watch Helluin and Beinvír's approach. The two ellith came to stand a fathom and a half before the king's seat and bowed low in greeting.
As was the custom, Oropher stood and returned their bow, and remaining thus, spoke.
"My friends of old, 'tis indeed a joy to see ye again and well. Word has come to me from Lord Oldbark, telling of your errand. Now despite whatsoe'er dire tidings ye may bear, still my welcome is extended to ye."
"My lord, great thanks do we give for thy greeting and thy welcome," Helluin said. "Thy riders found us at a time most opportune to the continuation of our errand. Indeed 'tis grave tidings we bear, and yet the more do we offer thee thanks for thy welcome in despite of them."
"Rather would I hear 'aught of ill-tidings, Helluin, than be taken later at unawares for harkening not," Oropher said, shaking his head in resignation. If only such a messenger had come to warn my folk and my king in Doriath long ago, he thought, but what oracle greater than Melian could one desire? He sighed. "Oft times art ill deeds unavoidable, yet e'er would I choose for my people to survive them. Speak then thy tidings, old friend, and fear not my wrath at the messenger."
Here Helluin bowed her head again to honor the Silvan king. More just was his treatment of her it seemed, than her treatment by her own king had been, and this in spite of his feelings towards her people. She renewed her determination to do all that she could to prepare King Oropher's folk to survive the coming war.
Now the king seated himself and he called for chairs and refreshments for his guests. Then through the hours of the afternoon and well into the night he harkened to all Helluin and Beinvír told him. Great was his amazement at the fall of Númenor, and appalled was he at their king's folly in assailing the West. Yet more amazed were all who listened to Helluin's assertion that the One had reshaped the world and that Valinor now lay hidden. With great interest did the king mark the new realms that had been founded by the exiled Dúnedain upon the Hither Shores. But most of all, the proofs the two visitors gave for the survival and renewed strength of Sauron did he absorb with dread.
"And so time wears on to some great conflict, O King," Helluin said late that night, "for e'er hath it been the part of the Abhorred to fester in malice against our folk and all those who would be free. He hath survived the Downfall of Númenor, reclaimed his realm of Mordor, and taken up again his Ring. He hath called to him again his servants and his soldiers, and smoke rises from the Mountain of Fire. Soon shalt he come again with war, and first shalt he test the resolve of the Men of Gondor that lie'th upon his border, yet he shalt not stop there. 'Til his defeat shalt he seek, as he hath aforetime, to extend his sovereignty to all lands and to enthrall all peoples 'neath his will. Whether thou ally thy folk with Ereinion or stand alone, thou shalt face thy Great Enemy yet again. Therefore I pray thee, for this time put aside thy resentment of the Noldor; lay aside even thy distrust of the folk of Durin. Stronger shalt all be for their alliance together than shalt any be standing alone. Gift thy people this opportunity to shape with others the response to our coming jeopardy and doom."
When Helluin was finished she sat and took up a cup of wine, whilst the king and his advisors debated to and fro the pros and cons of her speech. 'Twas no small thing she had requested of him. King Oropher's realm in Greenwood had been founded on a rejection of the Noldor in Beleriand, for at their feet 'twas all the ill of the First Age laid. Indeed for some, all the ills since the coming of the sun and moon could be traced to Helluin's people. For Oropher to accept an alliance with the remnant of that host, and to accept the command of their much younger High King would be to many a severe insult. For the greater count of his people, serving 'neath such conditions would be unacceptable. The debate continued in a surprisingly civil atmosphere throughout the night. Two hours ere dawn, Prince Thranduil rose at a nod from his father and approached their guests.
"My friends, t'would seem our debate proceeds without visible conclusion. I shalt therefore ask that ye join me for the evening meal," he said with a wry grin.
Helluin smiled and nodded in acceptance of his offer, whilst Beinvír sighed with relief as her stomach growled in anticipation. The prince stifled a snicker.
"Well, what a relief that upon at least some topic a consensus is still possible in these trying days," the prince said as he led them forth from the grotto.
They followed a narrow canyon beside a trickling stream for a short ways ere they came to a semi-enclosed canyon whose mouth opened out into the forest 'twixt two encircling arms of high ground. Thither were set many benches and tables 'neath many lamps, and along one wall was a kitchen with a great hearth where spitted meats roasted and cauldrons simmered. Prince Thranduil led them to a table 'nigh the opening of the canyon, where the night breezes from the forest flowed pleasantly about them. Out amongst the trees a company of Tawarwaith had built a fire and sat about it at their revels, singing many songs whose tunes and words carried to the trio's ears. Helluin sighed as she discerned the words. They were eerily familiar.
O Gently from the clouds of spring,
The warm rains fall and find me.
Bearing life of which I sing.
To flower, root, and tall tree.
I see, I see all things that grow,
And long keep watch for more
O Softly 'neath the summer moon,
The night's breeze serenades me.
Bearing songs of thrush and loon,
Their notes upon the wind free.
I hear, I hear, all that is sung,
And listen long for more.
O Welcome ripens the autumn fruit,
'Tis bounty there to feed me.
Seed and nut grown from the root,
Blessings all 'round do I see.
I taste, I taste all offered here,
And thank the One yet more.
O Deeply sinks the winter's chill,
Frost's fingers seek to find me.
With plant and beast I'll rest until,
Yavanna's breath awakes thee.
I wait, I wait the greening time,
And look ahead to more.
The wheel it turns year after year,
'Neath Anor time is passing.
And I keep watch to see it clear,
The cycle of rebirthing.
I sing, I sing in praise each day,
And wonder all the more.
"Whence came that song, O Prince?" Helluin asked when the singers fell silent.
"'Tis an ancient song; so ancient in fact that none now recall from where 'twas first learnt," Prince Thranduil told them. "The tune itself we deem more ancient still, for the words speak of the sun and moon, yet the notes art in a mode known to be akin to some melodies from the earliest of times in Cuiviénen. 'Tis a strange and fitting blend and a favorite of our people."
Helluin nodded. Little have the words changed in all the centuries, she thought. Yet there was a strain of mystery in hearing that song now. Somewhere just shy of 3,200 years ago, she had composed those words herself for her introduction to the Avari of King Telpeapáro. She recalled appearing amongst them after four nights of spying upon their revels, and offering those very words whilst singing to accompany their harpist. Of course the Avari had fled. She had then enchanted them with a song of power, drawing them to her and thereby winning their ear and eventually their trust. And she had led them to a disastrous victory o'er the invading Yrch. When last she had sought them, they had been long absent from Calenglad i'Dhaer. So how had the Nandor learnt the words?
Food was brought to them and pale ale, both very good and very welcome. For long none spoke, but labored to sate their hunger and thirst. Finally though, with so much upon their thought, the three returned to their conversation.
"Think thou that thy father favors the idea of alliance despite its inherent collaboration with the Noldor?" Helluin asked.
"I think that he understands well the tactical advantage," the prince said, "I suspect that even would he swallow his pride and ally himself with thy king. But those who support his rule art strongly against it, of that I am certain. Many want nothing at all to do with a war, and even less to do with a league of friendship 'twixt Lindon and Greenwood. I blame them not. In all honesty, would Ereinion for a moment consider an alliance were the Nandor to lead it"
"Nay, I know he would not," Helluin said.
"And yet our lands art closer to Mordor and more easily subject to his predations."
"Aye. Sooth say thou, O Prince. I see it. And I can foresee the Host of Mordor marching due north from Udûn to assail thee. There is 'naught save farmland to be o'errun ere they reach the southern borders of Calenglad."
"He shalt assail first the Dúnedain of Gondor," Beinvír reminded them, "for his pride shalt not suffer Isildur's insolence in building upon the Ephel Dúath his citadel of Minas Ithil. Nor shalt he ignore an enemy at his back…no commander would."
"'Tis not unthinkable for him to strike upon two fronts of war," Prince Thranduil said, "smiting those 'nigh his lands and making a play against us here to the north. Were he to succeed, he would hold well 'nigh all Rhovanion, for Lórinand should not long stand alone."
"In this thou can see the wisdom of a united front to oppose him," Helluin replied, "ere all art gobbled up one by one. And thou hast not into thy calculations taken thought for the Naugrim of Khazad-dûm. They shalt certainly stand against Sauron, 65,000 strong. We have lately spoken with Durin IV, Lord of Hadhodrond, and know his counsels."
"65,000…this is the count of their army, not their mansions?" Thranduil asked in amazement. The Nandor knew little of the Naugrim. Indeed they felt towards them as had once King Lenwin in Lindórinand long aforetime; they existed in a mutual disregard bordering on disdain.
"Indeed. 65,000 is the count of their regular infantry, not counting the King's Guards, the Guard Companies of the Gates, and the Black Companies, their home guard. 65,000 is the count of their standing army, and this they would commit as an expeditionary force against Mordor…along with their cadres of armorers, sappers, weapon smiths, artificers, military engineers, cooks, healers, scribes, quartermasters, and all the other personnel needed to support the fighters during a siege."
Again they lapsed into the silence of thought.
"Art thy folk prepared for war, O Prince? Art they armed and trained for battle?" Helluin asked. She was greatly worried about this point, for it had been the weakness of arms that had doomed so many of the Avari aforetime when they had faced the Yrch.
Prince Thranduil shook himself and returned from his thoughts.
"Nay, Helluin. My people art wanderers and hunters. Save the king's errand riders and guards we have no standing companies, nor a constant chain of command. Our society is fluid, its people ne'er in the same place longer than a few seasons, and no warrior cult exists in our society. Rather 'tis to escape war that we yearn. Save a few Royal Guards, none here regularly bear arms, and even those offices art mostly ceremonial."
Helluin couldn't suppress a groan. 'Twas every bit as bad as she had feared. Like the Avari aforetime, the Nandor of Greenwood had no practical knowledge of what loomed before them. They had no weapons, no command structure, no martial values, and no experience. She wondered if there were even a hundred swords in the entire realm.
"Dost thou know the count of thy people fit to bear arms?"
"Nay. We count them not," Thranduil said, "and whyfor should we? They pay no tribute, seek no services, and cast no votes. We art not a city of Men. The people acknowledge my father's rule for to honor his nobility and show support for his mediation of internal disputes. He is an organizer who arranges to control the spiders, negotiates trade, and performs social ceremonies." He shrugged. A king's duty was to give his people a focus for their group identity and preserve the peace.
Helluin sighed. The Nandor seemed numerous, but that generality was far from sufficient. She turned to look Beinvír in the eyes.
'Tis worse than Lórinand, meldanya, she said silently, none here know 'aught of military science. I pray the time sufficient to teach them, or they shalt surely perish.
They shalt die and many others besides, Beinvír said, for such is e'er the result of war. None can build and train an army o'ernight. Warriors sprout not from the bare ground like mushrooms.
Indeed. Rather they must be forged with heated and sustained effort as a smith shapes iron into a sword. If Oropher can prevail to win the ore of his people, still much shalt be needed to temper them and give them an edge.
To this, Beinvír nodded in agreement. Her people, whilst not comprising a formal army, were capable of mustering their strength and committing their resources to defense. They had military leaders and methods of communication. After the battle of Amon Ereb so long ago, they had refused to seek open battle, but they had turned all their land into a killing ground where their stealth and pinpoint archery kept enemies at bay. They had hated war, but ne'er had they turned their backs on the skills to wage it after their own fashion.
"O Prince, I shalt make thee an offer and a promise," Helluin said at last, "that should thy father win his people's decision to go to war, then I shalt make available all my expertise. None upon Arda know better the practice of combat, and none art more…available. I expect no summons from my king. 'Til the war comes, I offer my service as consultant, trainer, and tactician."
Thranduil looked at Helluin in surprise. He had thought her only a messenger bearing unwelcome tidings. Her offer he regarded with mixed emotions. Should they deign to accept it, would his people not be placing themselves 'neath the command of the very thing they detested most; a war-mongering Noldo? And yet he knew her history and accepted her claims of prowess. None had wandered so long as she, nor bore such arms as she carried without practical expertise. Survival demanded it.
"I shalt convey thy words to the king," was all he could promise.
Sitting next to Helluin, Beinvír heard more in her words than Thranduil, for none upon Arda knew her lover better. I expect no summons from my king. 'Til the war comes, I offer my service as consultant, trainer, and tactician. It went without saying that Gil-galad would ne'er summon Helluin in time of war. But just what was she thinking of doing once the war came? The Green Elf chewed her lower lip.
In 1701 Helluin had sought single combat with Sauron and she still chaffed at his flight. She had challenged him yet again upon Amon Hen. Would she seek to waylay or contest with him in the future? Almost certainly, Beinvír answered herself. She shalt somehow contrive a way to meet Sauron Gorthaur in battle, and there her darkness shalt be inflamed by her obsession with slaying him. And with the Sarchram she may succeed. But what then? In her darkness, would she avail herself of the spoils of her victory? Would she dare to don Sauron's Ring? Would she think to master it to her will as she had mastered her own weapon whilst 'neath his assault in 1600? And in the attempt, could she succeed? Was such possible? Or would she fall down into Darkness like Tindomul, becoming a Dark Lady where aforetime there had been a Dark Lord? Beinvír felt the throbbing of her pulse in her temples, the harbinger of a headache. Ugh, she thought, sometimes being the lover of the most fell of Elven warriors is hard work.
With all the decisiveness and celerity of the Ent Moot, the council of Oropher continued deliberating the following day and then the next. Finally, 'nigh nightfall of the third day, a decision was reached and the two ellith were informed of the outcome by the prince.
"With the agreement of the council 'tis my father's decision that those people of the realm capable of bearing arms shalt prepare to wage war against the minions of Sauron Gorthaur. We shalt raise an army to march 'neath King Oropher's command, and we shalt consider ourselves allies and equals in arms with Ereinion Gil-galad and his forces. We shalt not be under the command of Lindon, but shalt aid in their campaigns."
"I see," Helluin said non-committally. "Has a decision been reached regarding my offer of assistance?"
At this Prince Thranduil sighed.
"Thou art to be a personal consultant only to the king, Helluin. Ne'er shalt thou issue a command to a Nando. Upon this the council stood adamant and would budge not. Thou may make suggestions to the king and he shalt implement them or not as he sees fit."
"I see," was all Helluin said. 'Twas more or less the outcome she'd expected.
"But," Thranduil continued after a short pause, "our house has several ancient swords that came with my father out of Doriath. T'would greatly please me if thy schedule would allow thee to gift me somewhat of thy instruction."
Though he had made well 'nigh the same request that Tindomul had voiced so long ago, his sentiments were totally different. This was plainly clear. In the Prince of Greenwood, Helluin sensed only the sincere and nervous desire to learn well a distasteful skill. Helluin laughed, feeling more lighthearted now.
"Of course, O Prince. I should be glad to offer thee instruction. Such may even save thy life upon the field."
"Indeed it might," Thranduil said with not a trace of humor, for he was dead serious. The prospect of his father and his people going to war chilled his very blood. "Indeed it might."
After the decision to arm was reached in King Oropher's realm, the years passed in an increasing state of readiness. Yet as each cycle of the seasons came and went without battle, the drive to preparedness warred with the false sense of security the continuing peace engendered. Helluin discerned that many of the Nandor had ne'er taken the prospect of war seriously, whilst others followed their king's decrees simply to honor the wishes of their lord. Yet there were some, mostly older, who had harkened to the tidings of the previous war in Eriador, and a very few who, like Oropher himself, had come from the ruin of Doriath and had known war in Beleriand. E'er did these urge steadfastness upon any who harkened to them, and so about a core of serious and devoted warriors in training clustered a greater number only lackadaisical in their determination to prepare.
One virtue they had, and that was numbers. Helluin surveyed the troops regularly and counted well 'nigh 30,000 engaged in training, mostly at archery and pikes. A small cavalry drilled with lances from horseback, but favored still their bows from the saddle. These, Helluin knew, could be deadly, but they were so few, scarcely three hundreds all told. And fewer still trained with swords. Indeed in the whole kingdom there were not even three hundreds who owned a blade longer than their forearm. These were mostly scions of old Sindarin families who had come thither with Oropher and had retained their weapons from the First Age. On these Helluin concentrated her practical training, ne'er instructing directly, but rather using Thranduil as an intermediary and making the prince their teacher, whilst she in turn trained him and watched the students' progress from the sidelines.
Helluin found King Oropher's son a good student, and if not a brilliant swordsman, then certainly one willing to put forth endless determination and effort. Thranduil absorbed all she showed him and practiced 'til his hands were blistered ere they finally calloused o'er like those of a veteran campaigner. In turn, he drilled the Nandor mercilessly, and if his passion was resented, none complained, good subjects that they were.
At least once a week Helluin and Beinvír would spar in view of the students for the sake of inspiring them. It had been now almost 2,070 years since the Green Elf had first taken up the short sword 'neath Helluin's tutelage, and 415 years since she had traded it for the fighting knives gifted to her by Gotli of Khazad-dûm. Though she favored greatly her bow as a primary weapon, she was highly proficient with her paired fighting knives. These were light, quick, close-in weapons, meant to cover threats too near for archery, for though Beinvír could stab with a handheld arrow, in most cases a sturdy blade was far more deadly. One could not slash effectively with a arrow point, nor block an enemy's thrust with sword or spear.
In Beinvír's hands the Sigilin Belthol¹ flickered in a blindingly swift and graceful succession of motions designed to weave a fluid defense, warding off attacks whilst confusing the enemy's eye. Indeed with her speed, the polished blades seemed to vanish into thin air, becoming well 'nigh impossible to focus upon. A moment's indecision was all the opening the Green Elf needed to lunge in for a killing thrust or whisk a fatal slice. She was equally proficient with either hand, and equalizing their potential had been Gotli's intent in providing her with these gifts. And more than Helluin's intimidating and o'erpowering rage, Beinvír's lithe grace and fleeting accuracy made her swordplay appear as a visually intriguing and deadly art. Her style could not have been more different from that of her teacher. ¹(Sigilin Belthol, Killing Knives = sigil(knife) + -in(pl) + beltho-(v, kill) + -l(act pres part suff, -ing) Sindarin)
Now when they sparred to provide instruction to the students, Beinvír held back not at all, for even were she to actually touch Helluin with her blades, Helluin's armor would turn the cut. But Helluin indeed held back, not only because Beinvír wore no armor, (and indeed Anguirél could cleave any she might have worn), but also because she knew that she could easily o'erpower the Green Elf were she to unleash her deadly fury. And yet something else stayed her more surely than any tangible concerns, and that was the love in her heart. Not even in the venue of a sparring match would she will to chance injury to her beloved. For that same reason, ne'er did she wield the Sarchram in her left hand, but rather favored for parrying her dagger.
Amongst the Nandor were none so well learnt at swordplay as to discern that the two ellith were not wholly intent upon laying low their opponent. To their eyes the action seemed completely in earnest and deadly. 'Twas a vision of what was possible; what centuries of practice could confer; a glimpse at mastery to aspire to but perhaps ne'er to attain. When they returned to their practice, 'twas with renewed inspiration and effort.
For well 'nigh a score of years the mustering of Greenwood commenced, and little 'twas known of it beyond the borders. Only once was Helluin summoned to Laiquadol by Lord Oldbark, and upon that occasion he spoke to her of many things past and future.
"You are again involving yourself in the training of a peaceful kingdom for war," he said, "and I have not forgotten your sadness over the outcome of your arming of the Avari."
Helluin had bowed her head. She had certainly not forgotten either. Indeed the memories haunted her at times.
"I have no choice save to do thus," she said, "for even should I again fail, still 'tis better to try than to let march unprepared to battle these latter day settlers of thy realm. Like the Avari aforetime, the Nandor favor peace and know not war. Compelled now to make amends for past acts do I judge myself, and so I hope to tip somewhat the balance to their favor. I can do 'naught save be as I am. Yet indeed do I feel myself caught and forced to choose the lesser of two evils."
"Many choices are little more than that, young Elfling, and we who survive the Ages do so by accepting the weather, fair and foul alike. Though the doings of the Elves are not really my concern, yet all things being equal, I would probably follow the same course you have taken. I would confer upon those I care for such chance as I might gift to them."
Helluin looked up into the ancient eyes of the Lord of the Onodrim and saw 'naught but sympathetic concern. For all his perverse humor and alien manners she felt that he did care about her in his own way. Perhaps 'twas a shared understanding of the e'er growing weight of memories and experiences that bore upon her, for such must weigh upon him too. Perhaps 'twas simply his native nature as the guardian and custodian of a realm, and his empathy as the caretaker of the souls who dwelt within it. She didn't know. Still she was thankful for his concern and felt less alone in her labors.
"My Lord Oldbark, since our first meeting so long ago, e'er hast thou shown me kindness and honor, and if at times thou hast indulged thy humor, truly no harm hath it done. I greatly appreciate thy friendship. I can only retain hope for the future and faith in the Song, that events shalt come through heartbreak unto joy."
"Indeed so, Helluin of the Noldor, explorer of the Host of Finwë. I too have faith in the eventual triumph over the evils of Sauron and his servants, but it will be long in coming and hard fought to win. The Song unfolds, but ever with conflict. Still, so long as you and others like you cling to your faith, I feel that it shall come to pass. I certainly hope to be around to see some of it."
"If any shalt endure to see it, t'will be thou," Helluin said with certainty.
"I am less certain my young friend, for I feel many changes coming," the Onod said. His mood seemed more contemplative and more somber than e'er Helluin had seen it. "The world is changing; I know not how long such as myself will persist. Yavanna's grace was given by the One to last only so long as the Firstborn were strong, but now Men are in their ascendance. Like the Eldar, the Onodrim shall find their welcome in the world diminishing, and so like your kith and kin, we too shall fade, becoming finally only trees much like those we were at the start."
Somehow the Onod's words kindled a deep sadness in Helluin. Yes, the world was diminished. She had long marked the lessening of nobility and the fading of the stars. For long years fewer and fewer of the Firstborn had chosen to remain in Middle Earth. So many had sailed to the West, and now the West itself was removed. Wonder was fleeing Middle Earth; magick, enchantment, and that sense of a miracle to be discovered each day were seeping out of the Hither Lands. Even Helluin, much as she loved the Mortal Shores, no longer felt the awe she had known in her youth on the Westward March. Indeed she no longer felt so strongly the compulsion to explore, only to wander. She blinked. The distinction had crept unnoticed upon her, slowly, slowly, o'er many centuries. The contentment she had once felt alone in the wilderness had been replaced with the joy of traveling with her beloved and seeking what new adventures they found together.
"Perhaps thou art correct," she said. Oldbark was watching her carefully now. "Indeed I have received a prophecy of doom from the West, that I shalt outlive my welcome and persist long alone upon these Mortal Shores. It seems I am fated to finish as I started, alone, but in a world bereft of its wonder and diminished, and I faded within it. Indeed I suspect that ne'er shalt I leave it, though the prophecy says otherwise."
"Hmmmmm, it sounds to me as though you doubt the doom of the Lords of the West, Helluin. If they spoke to you and declared the course of your future, then it shall come to pass. Do not doubt them, my young friend. Keep your hope if nothing else, even though it may long seem in vain. The One cares for his children and the Valar watch over them."
To this Helluin could 'naught but bow her head in acceptance. That was the key; acceptance. She could not escape her fate any more than any other upon Arda.
"You should return to the people of King Oropher, young Helluin of the Noldor," Oldbark said at last, "and continue their training. No matter what happens tomorrow we can only do our best today. Go now, my friend. I cannot believe that your labors will be wholly in vain."
So with a bow to the Lord of Calenglad i'Dhaer, Helluin turned and made her way back to Oropher's halls. And there the years crept on towards the War of the Last Alliance.
To Be Continued