In An Age Before – Part 109
Chapter Seventy-five
The Fall of Cardolan, Eriador – The Third Age of the Sun
'Twas the dead of a warm summer's night in northern Eriador; the third hour of the third watch upon the walls of Fornost Erain, the great fortress of Arthedain. Once upon a time, in the reign of King Elendil, it had been the main stronghold of the Kingdom of Arnor, but those days were now long gone. The Northern Kingdom of the Dúnedain had fragmented in Third Age 861, when Eärendur, the tenth king, had divided the realm 'twixt his three feuding sons. Whereas the Men who had come from sunken Númenor o'er the Sundering Sea had once comprised one realm 'neath one king, now their people held but two of the three lesser kingdoms in the north…whilst far to the south, still undivided, lay Gondor.
Of the three northern kingdoms, Arthedain was the largest and strongest, retaining within its borders Fornost Erain, the ancient capital city of Annúminas, (now largely abandoned), the borderlands with the Elven realm of Lindon, and two of the three treasured Seeing Stones, or palantíri. The second kingdom, Cardolan lay south of the Great East Road, 'twixt Baranduin and Mitheithel, from Amon Sûl, (whither the third palantír of the north was housed), down to the coast. And the third north kingdom, Rhudaur, had fallen to the Hillmen and Angmar in T.A. 1356.
Hindsight says that the Dúnedain should have removed from Amon Sûl that palantír housed therein, for the Tower of the Wind lay upon the border of Cardolan, Arthedain and fallen Rhudaur, a temptation and a prize to the enemy well 'nigh impossible to resist. Yet the Seeing Stone was not moved ere the assault upon Cardolan, (though this had been foreseen for 'nigh on fifty years), for neither Arthedain, nor Cardolan, would have seen the palantír housed within the borders of the other realm¹, and Amon Sûl was a fortress strong and well defended. Alternative settlements further west upon the border of Arthedain and Cardolan counted only Bree. That town was but poorly fortified and held no contingent of Dúnedain sufficient for an earnest defense. And so the palantír remained at Amon Sûl, a scant ten miles from the hostile realm of Rhudaur. ¹(By this time, Arthedain had, for 'nigh on fifty years, claimed lordship o'er all of what had been Arnor, and while the claim had been rejected by Cardolan and Rhudaur, Arthedain can be expected to have felt some claim to the palantír as well as the crown, for the Seeing Stones had ever been the property of the Kings. The claim would probably have been felt even more strongly after spending fifty years guarding the Weather Hills and the border against incursions from Rhudaur.)
Now many of the Dúnedain's foes were mortal Men, the Hillmen of Rhudaur chief amongst them. Also some companies of Easterlings had traveled long, 'round the north marches of the Ered Mithrin all the way from Rhovanion, at the command of the Nazgûl, ere making their way at last to Carn Dûm upon the westernmost spur of the Ered Angmar.
From its founding in T.A. 1300, Angmar had included the northernmost parts of the Misty Mountains. Thither for Ages had been the chief strongholds of the Yrch, including Mount Gram upon the western side of the Hithaeglir, and the endless tunnels and filthy warrens 'neath Mt Gundabad, and so all of the many tribes of those foul creatures in the north had come 'neath the dominion of the Witch King. Also in his service were the stone-trolls of the northern Ettenmoors whom the Elves called Tor. These were hulking creatures, hard of hide and great in strength, though lacking in wit and mortally affected by sunlight. O'er the proceeding 100 years, the Lord of the Nazgûl had amassed a mixed army numbering some 80,000 soldiers.
Now war had erupted again in the north. Earlier in the year King Arveleg had been slain in battle and his son Araphor had taken the throne as the ninth king of Arthedain. Rhudaur was openly ruled from Carn Dûm, and Angmar's troops massed thither. 'Twas the year T.A. 1409, and the remaining Dúnedain of the north were besieged by the terror of the realm of Angmar and its undead Witch-King. Upon the walls of Fornost they kept watch, and all within the fortress looked to the coming of their allies.
To the aid of Arthedain had come the Lord Elrond Half-Elven, leading a mixed force of mounted Noldor out of Imladris, and Galadrim infantry from Lórinand, numbering in total almost two thousands. They had been joined by a contingent of Sindar, some twelve hundreds sent from the Grey Havens in Lindon by their lord, Círdan the Ship-Wright. Though but a tithe of the numbers at arms in days of yore, the joint company harked back to the great alliance of the 2nd Age, when the Elven populace of Eriador had been mobilized in the War of the Elves and Sauron, wherein the master smith Celebrimbor had been slain and many of the Elven Rings of Power taken by the Dark Lord.
Through the night the Elvish forces had hastened northwest, for having arisen in the Age of the Stars, their night vision allowed them to march by starlight, the better to avoid detection by the soldiery of the Witch King. Still, great danger there was in this land aplenty. The spies and scouts of the enemy crept like vermin through the rolling North Downs upon which Fornost Erain stood, and the Yrch in particular favored the dark.
Indeed the Elves of Lórinand and Imladris were now cut off from their homelands. Rhudaur had fallen long aforetime, and o'er the past month a swift and vicious invasion from Angmar had o'errun much of Cardolan. These tidings had come from a few fleeing survivors of border outposts, and they had been met with dismay. Amon Sûl, the tall Tower of the Wind, had been taken and thrown down. The fate of its palantír was still unknown, and this set all the north in jeopardy, for if the Witch King held the Seeing Stone, then none were safe from his sight.
So 'twas that the march of the Elves to Fornost was fraught with uncertainty and danger. In the vanguard, Elrond, with Haldir of Lórinand and Galdor from the Havens of Mithlond quietly spoke with the ranking Dúnedain officer from a defeated border outpost of Cardolan. Beregard was his name, and he was bone weary from many hard days of fighting, and many sleepless nights of flight.
"My Lords," the ragged officer said, "I thank ye for the succor given my Men. A long flight we have made, and no friends 'til now did we meet upon our way, though by the grace of the Valar, of foes we saw none either.
For years we watched the fighting in Rhudaur, knowing that if that realm was taken, then we should be next. When Rhudaur fell in 1356, we deemed then that our days were indeed numbered. In his malice, the Witch King craves the slaughter of all Men, save those he hath corrupted and enlisted unto himself. Many art the tribes of Hillmen and others…savages they art, driven to a frenzy of bloodlust much akin to the Yrch. Their numbers art uncounted, but very great. Endless did their ranks seem, when less than a moon ago they assailed and o'erran our northern border. Barely had we moved to reinforce that line when an even stronger assault came upon us from both west and east.
Thus we were worsted, the border breached, and Amon Sûl taken. In that battle our king fell, and most of his knights with him. The slaughter of our troops was very great throughout the campaign. Indeed I wager that less than one in five have survived. 'Tis now but the consolidation of our lands that is left for the invaders to accomplish…that and the final slaughter. Alas for our people!"
"Great sorrow do we feel for thy folk, Beregard," Elrond said, "and too for thy lord, Mallar. 'Tis sad that thy folk could come not to the aid of thy brothers in Rhudaur."
"Aye, too deep and for too long had there been contention 'twixt our folk."
"'Twas thy long dispute o'er Amon Sûl and its palantír," said Elrond, whilst shaking his head. "Yet that tower lies now in ruin and both thy realms have lost the Seeing Stone."
The Dúnadan swallowed nervously and looked down, shamed by the truth of his words.
"Some of our folk sought shelter amongst the great barrows of Tyrn Gorthad¹, and some riders may have escaped south through Dunland to Gondor," Beregard said hopefully after a pause, "and mayhaps some aid shalt come from our brothers in the South Kingdom. With luck they should have found some outpost upon their border by now, for they have been gone nine days." ¹(Tyrn Gorthad, the Barrow Downs Sindarin)
"Such may or may not be," Galdor said, "yet 'tis a slow response they shalt find, for many, many leagues lie 'twixt the western border of Calenardhon and Osgiliath upon Anduin, and any decision to send aid would be made thither by the king. And though they have peace for a time, 'tis a watchful peace, for enemies still hedge their borders, south and east."
Beregard nodded, accepting the truth of his words. Little enough did he actually know of the South Kingdom.
"I fear then most for my people," he said, "if indeed little aid can they expect."
"In truth I fear that they art lost," Elrond said softly and with great sympathy for the Man's sorrow. 'Cross many, many years and through many fathers, the Peredhel held a distant kinship to the Men of Cardolan. Much closer was his kinship to the royal houses of both Arthedain and Gondor. "I fear that yet more evil shalt come to all thy folk. Alas for the loss of so many lives. Alas for the loss of the palantír."
"Come now and join our march," said Galdor, "for three days hence shalt we come at last to Fornost and thither King Araphor shalt receive thee, for though thou was't of Cardolan, the blood of Númenor flows in thy veins and he is now thy right lord."
To this Beregard nodded in assent. King Araphor of Arthedain was now the right lord of all the Dúnedain of Eriador. The claim of rule o'er all Arnor by Araphor's father, King Argeleb, which Cardolan and Rhudaur once rejected, had come to pass. With a bow he took his leave, and with the other survivors 'neath his command, joined the march of the Elves. When he had gone, the Elvish leaders spoke amongst themselves.
"We art in great jeopardy, my friends," Elrond said, and the others nodded in agreement.
"The loss of the palantír I fear more greatly than the loss of the territories of Rhudaur and Cardolan," said Haldir. "What good art those buffer lands if the Witch King can invade our deepest counsels?"
"Aye," agreed Galdor, "and 'naught has been reported of the fate of the Seeing Stone. We have 'naught but fears and suspicions, knowing 'aught but that the Tower of Amon Sûl has been taken and no doubt despoiled ere its destruction."
"Our only hope lives in the thought that mayhaps one of the Cardolanath¹ has escaped with it out of the battle," offered Haldir. ¹(Cardolanath, People of Cardolan, the suffix –ath denotes a collective plural in Sindarin)
"Hmmm," muttered Elrond, "and how did Beregard and his few soldiers win their way hither, I wonder? These lands crawl with enemies, for he said they came against his folk from both east and west, and yet 'tis 'nigh on fifteen leagues to the border…a long flight indeed."
Haldir who rode beside him had o'erheard and asked, "mayhaps 'tis 'aught but good fortune…to balance the poor fortune of their defeat? They saw none, neither friend nor foe, or so they claimed."
They saw none…the words brought a realization and a sly grin crossed the Peredhel's face. Unlike Haldir of Lórinand, he remembered the last war in Eriador and the assault upon his own realm but fifty-odd years past, and he was a lore master and student of history and geography.
"Forget not in whose lands we tread, my friend," Elrond replied.
The March Warden of the Golden Wood looked carefully at the Lord of Imladris. Haldir was a Silvan Elf, born and raised in the Vale of Anduin east of the Hithaeglir, but Elrond was a scion of the royal houses of the Noldor and the Sindar, and the closest living kin of the Kings of Númenor. Oft did he speak in riddles it seemed, yet 'twas wise to pay careful attention to his words.
''Twas once the Kingdom of Arnor," Haldir answered after some thought.
"And aforetime?"
At the following silence and questioning look upon the face of the Silvan Elf, Elrond said, "distant kin, closer to thee than to me, the lovers of Seven Rivers and of song."
But Haldir found no enlightenment in his words.
He know'th not of Ossiriand, nor of the wars of Beleriand in the First Age of the Sun, Elrond realized. And why should he? His folk set no foot west of Rhovanion 'til the Second Age, nor traveled Eriador save only briefly in time of war long ago.
Ossiriand. A long, long time ago, Elrond had traveled that land as a captive, he and his brother, and the memory brought another thought to his mind.
Now Elrond looked carefully to the east, past Haldir and into the blanketing gloom. 'Cross ten leagues of night to the Weather Hills he cast his sight, searching with eyes and heart, and more that was hidden. In the distance he thought he espied the faintest will-o-the-wisp dancing. A smile crossed his face. Thither is hope, he thought, but he kept his counsel and maintained his silence as he nudged his mount into motion.
To be Continued