In An Age Before – Part 112
Chapter Seventy-seven
The Scourging of Cardolan – The Third Age of the Sun
Now following the defeat of Angmar in T.A. 1409, 'twas a time of relative peace in Eriador. The Dúnedain of Arthedain worked to heal the damage of war and their folk reclaimed what measure of normality they could. King Araphor reigned for 180 years, and save for some minor skirmishes with the Hillmen of Rhudaur, little bloodshed plagued that land. 'Twas a blessing sorely needed, for many had fallen in the wars of Rhudaur, Cardolan, and Arthedain, and so the depopulation of the North Kingdom went forward. Long would grow the count of the years ere the majesty of old was returned.
So it came to pass that those Dúnedain of Cardolan who had survived the war now accepted Araphor as their lord, and many served Arthedain at arms, primarily upon the borders, earning thither the trust and esteem of their fellow Men. Yet at heart many longed to liberate their homeland and restore the Kingdom of Cardolan, for the survivors and scions of families whose holdings 'twixt Mitheithel and Baranduin dated back to the days of Elendil would not easily forget whither their roots had long grown deep and their blood had flowed of late. Thus 'twas not unknown for bands of warriors to slip 'cross the border and harry the usurpers of their homes. Two places in particular did they contest such as they could; the hills 'nigh the Great East Road whither Amon Sûl had stood, and the ruined walls and fallen towers of Cardól¹, once the city of their kings 'nigh the barrows of Tyrn Gorthad. In these enterprises they eventually had some aid, for others with even older claims despised the Hillmen, once pawns of Angmar who, along with a few Easterlings and Dunlendings, now flaunted their holdings in the fallen realm of Cardolan. History recalls that after a time the Cardolanath did repossess their lands, (if not their kingdom), for a time, yet the displacement of the remaining invaders had first to be accomplished. 'Twas now 2 Gwirith (April 2nd), T.A. 1417. ¹(Cardól, Red Hill, hypothetical capital of Cardolan, the Red Hill Country. Cardolan (cardólland) = car(red) + dól(head, hill) + land(open space; level, wide) The final consonants –nd in Sindarin names are simplified to –n. Sindarin This geographical placement for Cardolan's capital city derives from Tom Bombadil's history lesson to the Hobbits in LotR Ch 7, pg 128)
Labored breathing and the soft sounds of stumbling feet gave testimony to the wary retreat of five exhausted Men to the ruins 'nigh the barrow downs of Tyrn Gorthad. They were the last survivors of a failed raid upon the Road east of Bree. Originally they had numbered a dozen, ranging in age from their early 50s to just o'er 100; Men still in their prime, for these were Dúnedain of Cardolan, and they had once been soldiers of the king. Now they lit no fire, but sought the shadows amongst the rubble, and there cast themselves down to rest, speaking only softly, for though they deemed they'd put 'nigh a league 'twixt themselves and their pursuers, they had seen strange things this night and their raid had been a disaster.
"Careful we have been, and yet our plans were known to the enemy," Thansál¹ said to the rest after a few moments catching his breath, "and I see not how this could be." ¹(Thansál, Firm Shield = than(shield) + thál(steady, firm) Sindarin Consonant changes at the partitions of Sindarin names include the substitution of –th with –s.)
He shook his head and set aside his spear. O'er half their company slain in but a few minutes of disastrous combat; Men he had known since the war, good soldiers all.
"I know not either. Save ourselves, none knew 'aught of our plans," Dorondon¹ their scout agreed. "We moved in stealth, met none, spoke to none, and lit no fires after crossing the border." ¹(Dorondon, Tall Oak = doron(oak tree) + tond(tall) Sindarin In multisyllabic Sindarin names a final –nd is simplified to –n. Consonant changes at the partitions of Sindarin names include the substitution of –t with –d, so tond becomes don.)
Wide berth they had given to all settlements and homesteads, and once in Cardolan, ne'er had they approached the Road 'til they attacked.
"Yet it seemed the dúrashoth¹ expected us and their numbers wrought slaughter upon us, curse them to Udûn," Angadan² spat, his clenched fists shaking with rage. ¹(dúrashoth, people of darkness = dúr(dark) + -as(noun on adj suff, –ness, darkness) + hoth(people), pejorative for Hillmen holding Cardolan and Rhudaur, insinuating that they descended from the Men who served Morgoth during the First Age. Sindarin) ²(Angadan, Iron Man = ang(iron) + adan(man of the 3 houses of Elf friends) Sindarin)
"Loath am I to speak ill of the dead, yet perhaps 'twas one of our slain who whispered 'aught which passed thence to unfriendly ears," said Drammor¹ who was the youngest amongst the survivors, "though all the company were sworn to silence." ¹(Drammor, (lit. Striker/Hitter), ver. Fighter = drammo-(strike, hit) + -or(masc agent suff., noun on verb) Sindarin)
"I can think of none amongst us more likely than any other to have spoken thus, for all knew the gravity of our course and their own lives were at stake," said their leader, Húngan¹. "'Tis more likely just mischance…being espied by foes whilst unawares, or our passage marked by one afield, a hunter perhaps, who chanced to cross our trail." ¹(Húngan, Bold Heart = hún(heart) + cand(bold) Sindarin Consonant changes at the partitions of Sindarin names include the substitution of –c with –g. In multisyllabic Sindarin names a final –nd is simplified to –n.)
"Aye, 'tis more likely, my lord," Thansál agreed with resignation, "and just as likely that we shalt ne'er know."
"And now that ulund melch¹ has collected his tribute once again, hard won by our brothers in Bree so shortly after winter's passing,"Angadan carped.¹(ulund melch, greedy freak = ulund(deformed monster) + melch(greedy) Sindarin)
For a while they sat in silence, each with his own thoughts.
"Alas for our brothers lost this night," Dorondon whispered. "The blood of Cardolan flows a bit more each day. 'Tis hard to keep hope. May the Valar have pity upon us."
He set the quiver of arrows he'd been counting 'cross his knees and looked up at the stars far above. Bright they seemed against the dark of the sky upon this night with Ithil showing but a slim crescent. Too dark indeed for him to be sure of his shooting after they'd been ambushed.
The scout thought back to those fateful moments. They'd attacked the wagon and its dozen guards, but a larger company of foes had lain concealed 'cross the Road, waiting for their own company to break cover. 'Twas as if they'd known just whither the attack would occur. Seven of his comrades had been slain in minutes. By all rights they should have been slain to the last, and yet…five had escaped. He could only be sure of the guard his carefully aimed first arrow had taken just as the attack had started, and he'd fired only thrice ere drawing his sword. Then the order to retreat had sent them to flight with arrows whizzing past and 'nigh on four dozen foemen charging after them. Many times he had been in combat, and this engagement didn't feel right.
"Drammor, how many did thou shoot this night?" Dorondon asked their only other surviving archer.
After a moment's thought, the younger soldier replied, "two only for sure, the wagon driver next to the guard thou shot, and the second guard upon the near side of the wagon a moment later. After that 'twas chaos. I fired again but am not sure of a fatal hit."
Three only could they tally with certainty out of perhaps sixty total. He guessed their company had slain no more than a dozen all told. Why had they not been pursued to their deaths? The chase had lasted not even three furlongs.
"I understand not why they gave up the chase so soon, nor why they allowed us the chance to flee," the scout said. "In their place I would have hunted all down to their deaths."
"As would I," Húngan agreed.
"I recall one of them shot down, and he not two fathoms behind me," Thansál said. "I thought 'twas to one of thee that I owed my life this night."
"'Twas not I," Dorondon said.
"Nor I," said Drammor.
"Stranger then shalt this seem," Angadan added, "for being last in flight, I chanced a glance behind for to gauge the pursuit. I saw several falling as they charged past the wagon. Others lay dead behind them upon the Road, and these I recall not seeing when first we fled."
Now the survivors sat again in silence, each recalling the night's combat and marking such details as seemed awry. After a time, Húngan asked the opinion of his soldiers.
"As we fled I noted many cries and shouts from the enemy. At the time I thought them war-cries meant to give us fright and each other courage, yet now I wonder. Indeed the more I think on it, the more I deem those cries to have conveyed dismay and pain. What do your memories tell ye?"
The leader looked 'round the circle of his Men.
"I am unsure," Thansál said.
"I too am unsure," Drammor said.
"For myself, I cannot be sure, though t'would explain the lack of pursuit. Think thou that even as they had ambushed and slaughtered us, that they themselves were taken in ambush and slaughtered in turn?" asked Dorondon. "And if so, then by whom?"
"Meet t'would be if 'twas so," Angadan said, "and I should question not such a boon, but give thanks instead."
Húngan nodded to himself. Perhaps 'twas 'naught but his own wishful thinking.
"Let us take some rest then. Two hour watches 'round the circle doesil¹," he ordered, eyeing each Man in turn beginning with the scout, Dorondon, whom he deemed the sharpest. At their nods he leaned back against the stones of a fallen wall and closed his eyes. His own turn would come third. ¹(deosil - clockwise)
For a while he thought upon another turn of luck. In the third night of the battle for Fornost, his first fight in the service of Arthedain after Cardolan was o'errun, an arrow had taken the Orch that had been poised to run him through after his foot had slid away in the mud. That shot had passed through the scant space 'twixt his own head and that of the Man next to him to strike the Orch perfectly in the eye. His awe at some comrade's archery had lasted only moments ere he'd been caught up again in the fighting.
It seemed he'd closed his eyes but moments afore when a gentle shake of his shoulder woke him and he heard Angadan's voice softly report, "all's quiet, my lord, as 'twas for Dorondon ere me."
With a nod and a quick quirk of his lip, neither a true smile nor a grin, he rose and moved to the gap in the wall which had once been a doorway. Soon he noted the stilling of Angadan's movements and the deeper breathing of his sleep amongst the stones behind. His own senses sharpened in the quiet of the night as full wakefulness came and his concentration deepened. He quickly checked the stars and then carefully scanned their surroundings, but marked 'naught out of place amongst the ruins.
How oft have I stood a night's watch, he thought to himself. O'er four score of my five score years I have been at war, and I see no end to it ere my life is done.
"It ne'er ends, good soldier of Cardolan…from Age unto Age the war goes e'er on."
The whisper had come so softly that 'twas moments ere he realized another had spoken at all and 'twas not just his own mind answering itself. A woman's voice…and sad.
In a heartbeat he was on his feet with sword drawn, turning in a circle to view all quarters, but 'naught did he see save his own sleeping Men. A whisper from beyond the grave perhaps…some lost daughter of our folk, restless upon this dark night?
With all his will he commanded his eyes to see into the depths of shadows, and desperately he sought for movement amongst the further ruins, for their very lives depended upon it, but still he saw 'naught out of place. For long minutes he searched, turning, checking corners, shifting focus from near to far, but not a living soul could he find anywhere. Whence…?
Yet finally, when he could discern no presence, he sheathed his sword and took his seat, wary now, the hairs upon the back of his neck tingling with anticipation. Jumpy am I this night and my imagination runs free like that of a new recruit. Deep breaths he took to settle himself. And e'er his eyes searched all 'round, hoping to find the speaker, yet hoping at the same time not to. Rather would I deem myself mad than fail at my post and bring death upon my Men. Let us not be discovered, I pray, for friends hither art few.
"Long hath it been since thou was't discovered, yet friends art not so few as thou deem," came the whisper.
Again Húngan leapt to his feet and his sword was in his hand, yet even as he drew he marked the faintest blue of eyes 'nigh his shoulder and a figure tall and dark, and knew he was lost. The enemy was upon him and already far too close…easily within range to thrust a dagger into his gut. Yet the sharp pain and the feel of cold steel piercing his body came not. Instead, the blue eyes grew brighter, but their position held, two feet before him past the blade of his sword, now held defensively 'cross his body. Off to his side, his Men were leaping to their feet and taking up their weapons. Thou hast missed thy chance stranger, and now, being alone, 'tis thou who shalt be taken.
Yet even as he thought it, he saw movement all 'round their company. In the blink of an eye figures rose from shadows and behind stones, so many and so close, and each cloaked figure held a drawn bow, but the arrows were pointed up and not at living targets. Surely they numbered no fewer than three dozens. We art doomed! So be it. Yet thou shalt not slay us unfought.
"Peace, soldiers of Cardolan," the blue-eyed stranger said, whispering no longer, but speaking for all to hear, "for thy enemies art slain and thou art safe this night. Four score years thou hast been at war, O Húngan? At war we have been for three Ages of this world, and t'would seem that once again our foes art the same."
Past the five soldiers of Cardolan, in what had once been the first hall of a fine mansion, sparks quickly kindled a fire 'twixt fallen stones, as close a thing to a trench fire as might be in a paved space, and thither stood another cloaked figure, slender and shorter than the first. When Húngan looked back, the archers were not to be seen.
"Come now and join us," the tall, blue-eyed figure said as she moved to join the other at the fire. "Fear not that any shalt mark us, for upon this night 'tis as though the walls of Cardól still stand. We have food and drink and much to speak of."
Now 'twas for many moments that Húngan and his Men stood motionless, but the two at the fire cast back their cloaks and they saw that they were Elvish folk. In all the tales they could recall, ne'er had such been foes of their people. It seemed now apparent by whose arrows they had been delivered from the ambush upon the Road, and the arrows of the archers just moments aforetime had not been aimed at them, at least so long as they'd made no move to assail the elleth who'd first greeted them.
With a shrug, Húngan sheathed his sword and walked towards the fire. One by one, Thansál, Drammor, Dorondon, and Angadan did likewise, and soon there were seven figures seated 'round the cheery flames, warming their hands as a pot of stew came to simmer and a skin of wine was passed 'twixt them. Far into the night they spoke, and after introductions were made all 'round, 'twas to business they passed, and the ways of war, and a plan to give to the Cardolanath the tools and skills for to drive hence the usurpers of their homeland.
"'Twas in 1847 of the Second Age of this world that we took up the rule of the land of Lebennin," Helluin told them as the night grew old, "and thither we schooled the warriors of that country to the stealth and ways of war of my beloved's people. Long did the Men of that land rule their own affairs in freedom, and even when in later years they pledged their allegiance to the new-come lords from o'er the Sea, still their own identity did they retain. To this day they art faithful allies of the South Kingdom, and in the last great war, they served King Anárion and King Meneldil as Rangers in Ithilien, denying the Dark Lord passage of his arms and troops, and aiding in the siege of Minas Ithil."
"My folk marked your company ere ye left Arthedain," Beinvír told them, "and kept track of ye from a distance by the occasional flashes from such metal tokens as ye bear which reflected hence the light of Anor…buckles, badges, buttons, sword fittings, dagger pommels and such. I deem the Hillmen did likewise, for their senses art keen, having originally lived 'nigh the Hithaeglir and e'er threatened by the Yrch. Of tonight's tragedy I shalt say that my folk were drawn off east when an unforeseen chance to act presented itself, and your attack came earlier than hoped…ere our strength could be regrouped thither. Still, those few remaining were able to win your freedom."
"The three dozen-odd we saw hither?" Dorondon asked.
Here Helluin gave him a cold grin.
"Nay," the Green Elf answered, "for all those went east to slay the ulund melch and some two hundreds of his soldiers, including a company of Yrch. Helluin and myself and two others shot some ten each as we ran, keeping pace with ye, 'til the toll was sufficient to force the remainder to give up the chase. Those last were slain when they came to the Road as my folk returned, ere they rejoined us hither whilst thou slept."
"Word has been sent to Bree, telling of this night's deeds, and bidding that folk to repossess 'aught as they were forced to pay aforetime," Helluin told them, "and glad they shalt be, I deem, for a sheep grows but one fleece a year and the wagon held many."
'Twas with wonder and rejoicing that the survivors accepted these tidings. And later, as the dawn drew 'nigh, the five Men of Cardolan accepted the offer of aid and training that the two ellith made. So began the long tradition of fighting by stealth, and of hidden strength and silent hope that would last in the North Kingdom through all the dark years to come. The way of the Rangers of Arnor was first born in fallen Cardolan, but it persisted and in latter days 'twas taught to Aranarth son of Arvedui and his folk for to preserve the north 'til the King came again.
The training began the very next day.
"Lord Húngan, son of Baragund who was cousin to Mallar, last King of Cardolan, I presume not to command thee or thy Men," Helluin said as they spoke in the morning ere the training began, "but I have fought in Middle Earth 'nigh on 5,500 years and few know better the arts of war. Beinvír was born of the Laiquendi, a folk of such stealth and woodscraft that they art unknown to those who have lived 'nigh them in Eriador through the past two Ages. In the war of 1409, the Dúnedain slew perhaps twelve thousands of the enemy. The Laiquendi slew more though few know 'aught of it, for e'er they art unseen by friend and foe alike. I shalt tell thee this though, my lord; thrice in twenty years has thy life been saved by their bows. Once upon thy retreat 'cross the Weather Hills from the battle of Amon Sûl, once in the battle of Fornost, and again this night past.
Thou seek now to fight a war of stealth rather than of massed ranks as the Dúnedain have favored since Ciryatur brought his armies to the aid of Gil-galad long ago. In this kind of fighting, none upon Middle Earth exceed the Green Elves. Much we can teach thee and thy Men, but mark this. With thee or without thee, in two score years at most, the enemy shalt be gone, and either thy folk shalt have regained their homes, or the land shalt lie empty."
Beside her, Beinvír nodded in agreement. More a hindrance than a help art they, Tórferedir had told her in exasperation not three days past, save perhaps that at times their actions mask our own. I can fathom not what Mithrandir sees in this Man.
"With great thanks thy teachings I would have," Húngan replied, "yet whether with or without them we shalt fight for our lands, even if 'tis only the Laiquendi who live to enjoy their liberation."
At this the two ellith grinned.
"Then first I bid ye put off or deaden to sight all bright metals, and pad any such as would contact another," Beinvír began, "so that neither a reflection nor a sound betray ye."
At summer's end, 30 Ivanneth, (September 30th), a full company of thirty Rangers of Cardolan in training, clad in cloaks, tunics, and pants of mixed greens, and bearing bows, swords, and daggers moved quietly through the night to take up positions encircling a country mansion. Within it they could hear the revels of a large gathering of Hillmen and their guests. None of the pacing guards saw 'aught of them, for though their stealth was still far less than that of the Green Elves, 'twas sufficient to confound the sight of inattentive mortals. Hours they lay in wait, through the feasting and the drinking that followed, 'til midnight drew 'nigh.
Then into the yard came the household and the guests, Easterlings once in the service of Angmar. To a pyre already laid they came, and gathering 'round it, lit the oiled wood for to start the ceremony to their god of fire far in the East. Animals were brought in lieu of the prisoners they'd have sacrificed at home, and the first of these, a fine blue roan mare, was hauled forth and tied to the altar of slaughter. In the firelight the Cardolanath could see the terrified whites of her eyes. Behind them in the dark the guards fell one by one.
Now the chief of the Easterlings came forth with a long and cruel knife for to slice her throat that her blood should consecrate their altar, but even as the blade rose for the stroke he was pitched backwards, an arrow in his right eye.
Then for the next few minutes arrows flew and the Hillmen and the Easterlings fell, yet none were seen shooting for they remained hidden to all. And though a few of the enemy needed a second arrow to end their screaming and their thrashing, still 'twas not long 'til all lay slain and silence reigned at last. Of the Rangers, not one bore a wound, for they had not closed in battle with their foes.
Finally into the yard strode three figures, two ellith and a Man of Cardolan. The two quickly inspected the dead, but the Man walked slowly to the horse, speaking softly, and coming to her, gentled her with his words and calmed her panic with his hands, and when she had stilled, he untied her lead from the altar and walked her away to the edge of the firelight.
One by one he loosed the other sacrificial animals as well, and it seemed that they came and stood in a group before him, paying heed to his words, yet he only bade them go and be free and roam the land as they willed. Then with a glance back at the home he had once known in time of peace years ago, he turned away and rejoined his Men in the shadows ere they began their trek back to their base amongst the ruins of Cardól for to refine the further their war craft.
For years the raids continued, most oft with great success, freeing one by one the manors and holdings of Cardolan. The count of the Rangers grew; one hundred in the spring of 1419, three hundreds by autumn of 1422, and by the summer of 1425, a full five hundreds, each 'neath the command of one of the original five soldiers of Cardolan that Helluin and Beinvír had met that fateful night. By then it had been years since any foe had dared to tread the Road 'twixt Bree Hill and Baranduin, and all the lands from Arthedain to the Weather Hills and south to the road from Sarn Ford were undisputed. Long had the labors of the Cardolanath seemed, yet they bore an increasing yield of fruit. Now Hillmen were seen fleeing north to Rhudaur through the Lone-lands.
Great had been the rejoicing upon mid-summer's day in 1424 when the Hillmen were finally driven from the ruins of Amon Sûl. To the north, upon the Weather Hills two days later, Húngan's Rangers had met with soldiers of Arthedain, and word of what had come to pass was sent to King Araphor in Fornost, and the king thought deeply on the tidings he'd heard. One month later, upon 25 Cerveth (July 25th), one hundred soldiers of Arthedain came to the ruins of Cardól to offer their services and deliver a message.
"My lord, King Araphor rejoices in thy victory and supports thy campaign. A fortnight past he asked for volunteers, and well 'nigh every soldier of Cardolan in his service put forth their names. Of these he chose five score at once and released them to serve with thy Rangers henceforth. More shalt come after. He asks only that once the realm of Cardolan is free of the leavings of Angmar, that thou stand as his Regent for Cardolan and govern hither 'neath the crown of the North Kingdom."
Húngan's eyes well 'nigh started from his head at the words. A tall figure came to stand beside him, offering counsel softly spoken.
"'Tis a good turn, my lord, for additional fighters shalt be welcome, and they need not desert now, for they have the leave of their king," Helluin said.
"He…he hath named me Regent pending?" The shocked Man said, still not believing what he'd heard.
"Had thou intended to name thyself King of Cardolan?" Helluin asked with a chuckle.
"I…no…no! I wanted only to see my people returned to their homes and our land free again and at peace!" he sputtered.
"'Tis just as well then, for Araphor alone is the Heir of Isildur," Helluin said with a wink, "and he hath not offered to return the palantír to Amon Sûl."
At this, Húngan well 'nigh choked.
"Amon Sûl is a ruin still and whate'er would I do with that stone anyway? The notion of such a gúl¹ well 'nigh terrifies me." ¹(gúl, sorcery, but without the dark connotation of mórgúl Sindarin)
The Noldo laughed as Beinvír came to join them. Smiling, she sketched a courtly bow.
"My lord, I am happy to report that the lands south of the old road from Sarn Ford to Tharbad have been freed of Hillmen by my people. But a week past the last fled east, crossing the Gwathló from Minhiriath into Dunland. Now thy foes remain only in the lands 'nigh Mitheithel and south of the East Road, less than the quarter part of thy realm, Lord Regent."
A broad smile grew on Húngan's face.
"Two years and maybe less shalt see the last of them gone," he guessed, "but what if they cross Mitheithel into the lands of Hollin? Well 'nigh none live thither in these days…indeed 'twas so ere Cardolan fell."
Suddenly grim, Helluin answered, and her voice was as cold as her eyes.
"For long few have seemed to live in Hollin, yet even the Yrch avoid that land. Any foes coming thither shalt be exterminated."
Now the Rangers of Cardolan returned to their labors, driving the Hillmen before them to Rhudaur. Thither they fled, daring not to cross Mitheithel into the Elvish lands of old, for they deemed them cursed; some unseen terror had long dwelt in that country.
And it came to pass that by the spring of T.A. 1427, the land of Cardolan was again free of the leavings of Angmar and its folk began to return. Yet they had suffered much in the war eighteen years aforetime and they had become few in number. Most returned to farms and holdings outside the cities, for the city folk had borne the brunt of Angmar's assault, and fewer had survived than in the country. So 'twas that Cardól and Amon Sûl were not rebuilt, but remained in ruin through all the rest of the Third Age of the Sun, 'til the greater kingdom of Arnor rose again.
Some 90 leagues to the east, in a camp 'nigh Hollin Ridge, an old Man in gray robes closed his eyes and gave thanks for the words a messenger of the Green Elves had just brought to his king.
"Well pleased thou should be, I deem, for the Lord Húngan now rules the land of Cardolan," Dálindir said, "just as thou said he must."
"I am pleased," Mithrandir replied, "that Lord Húngan rules. More pleased am I that he lives, and far more pleased still that he hath learnt the ways of a Ranger."
"As usual I understand not thy wiles," the King of the Laiquendi said with a chuckle, "yet after knowing thee now for o'er four hundred years, I understand thou art no Dúnadan as first I had thought, for even they live not so long unchanged to the eye. Too, thou hast both deep wisdom and foresight, neither being gifts oft bestowed by the One upon Mortal Men. Therefore, share 'aught of thy counsel, I pray thee, for I find myself baffled. Cardolan can withstand not even a weak assault again from Angmar; its people art too few, and no heir of Isildur survives thither."
The old Man in gray chuckled, but as e'er, he took pity upon his host.
"Cardolan shalt indeed fall again. Of the Lord Húngan, I suspect that some son of his house shalt in future days render great service to the cause of good, yet what is most important is that our two friends have conveyed to the Men of Arnor thy warcraft and somewhat of thy woodscraft. That way of fighting would not be so welcome in Arthedain, for they still rely on numbers and strength of arms, yet the time shalt come when such shalt no longer suffice, and at that time, the way of the Ranger shalt be the way that saves the blood of the North Kingdom. You see, my friend, this war shalt be very long and the days ahead very dark for Men. Perhaps they shalt fail indeed, yet now I have faith that they stand at least a chance to endure to the final victory."
And of the Lord Húngan son of Baragund, whose father had been the cousin of Mallar, the last King of Cardolan, he now took up the office of Regent of Cardolan 'neath the crown of Arthedain, and upon 30 Ivanneth T.A. 1427 he returned to a mansion he had once known in days of peace long ago, whereat the last remains of a fire could still be discerned in the yard, and thither he was greeted by the wickers of a blue roan mare.
To Be Continued