In An Age Before – Part 125
In Osgiliath two nights later, a trio of strangers sat at a dimly lit table in the common room of the low town tavern, The Knave's Redoubt. Stealth had served their entrance to the city, and now they had joined a crowd who asked few questions of others these days. Hooded and cloaked as they were, still they drew but scant attention, for most understood the desire to remain anonymous to the king's men. It took little for the trio to mark that 'twas a hotbed of malcontent, with many an angry whisper against the king to be heard from the lips of these poor and downtrodden folk.
So preoccupied with their misery were these citizens of Osgiliath that none marked when a song began, and though but few could have understood the words of the singer's foreign tongue, still, softly and slowly, the song brought feelings and then pictures to their minds. Washed by the singer's silvery voice, the deep part of their minds harkened to a vision wherein sunlight brightened their mean, cobbled streets, and they felt again the pride of accomplishment in an honest day's work fairly compensated. In this vision there came a restoration of their people's glory and the return of their rightful king. And in the heart of each who heard, there grew the commitment to make it happen, for the song told that they could be the instruments that would make such a fate come true.
None at The Knave's Redoubt marked when the song ended, nor from whence it had come. None suspected that they had listened to an Elvish song of power and been deeply affected. Indeed, each thought themselves the sole recipient of an inspiration that had spoken to their heart alone. And not in their wildest dreams did even a one suspect that they had been serenaded by the second son of the first High King of the Noldor in exile.
At Linhir a week later no songs were sung, but rather a chain of command created in an Age before was reactivated. No living Ranger of Lebennin would have mistaken the First Guardians, nor failed to put themselves at their command. One look at the two ellith and a glance at the Sarchram at the taller one's waist brought the grim Ranger Commander to one knee, his right fist placed o'er his heart in salute.
"Rise, Lord Commander, for soon the day shalt come when the rightful King of Gondor retakes his father's throne," Helluin told him. "Spread the word and be ready at our call."
"By the Valar we have long prayed to hear those words, First Guardian," the Commander said, a wide smile upon his face. For the first time in years, true joy lit his eyes. "All Lebennin, not just the Rangers, shalt rise against Castamir at thy call."
"Upon how many can thou depend?"
The Commander actually chuckled at her question, causing the Noldo to raise a brow.
"In his wisdom, the Usurper has ordered all Rangers deported and confined to Lebennin, for he trusted not our loyalty and feared our 'infiltration' of Gondor," the Commander explained. "Thus all 35,000 Rangers were dismissed from the king's service, exiled, in truth, and all of the 30,000 who returned art now assigned to our home guard."
Helluin marked that the total was increased by roughly eight thousands since the opening days of the defense of Osgiliath.
"Being not of Dúnedain blood, Castamir looks down upon us, yet he hath not the count of troops to occupy so vast a land," the Commander explained. "So rather, he seeks to constrain us hither, creating a buffer whilst sending at most a few spies who most oft 'desert' from his service."
His words brought a dark grin and a nod of approval from Helluin, for she could well imagine such 'deserting' spies becoming fertilizer 'neath the rich tillage of Lebennin.
"Also I should tell thee that after the fall of Osgiliath, some six thousand soldiers of Gondor loyal to the king escaped south with us and have remained hither, incognito."
Another two days were spent planning the many details of the uprising, at the end of which Beinvír asked the Commander, "Lord Barahíl¹, I pray thee choose ten to ride hence with us, west and then north to Calenardhon. These shalt bear hither our call to action when the time is right." ¹(Barahíl, Fiery Heir = baras(fiery, eager) + híl(heir, follower) An -s at the partition in Sindarin proper names becomes –h, and is dropped rather than doubled. Sindarin)
"Many would vie for that honor, First Guardian, myself included," he told her, "but I shalt choose ten of our most able to accompany thee upon thy road, and eagerly shalt I await their return."
When the Green Elf graced him with a smile, he felt a touch of the old magick that had once inspired his ancestors in a way of life that had endured for o'er three thousand years in this land of many rivers 'twixt the mountains and the sea. What must it hath been like, at the birth of our nation, when the Firstborn walked still amongst us, he wondered for the millionth time. With a few words and a gentle smile the First Guardian had given him a hint. Thereafter, the Commander of the Rangers was less grim.
Within days the word was passed. 'Cross the broad land of Lebennin 'naught appeared to have changed, and yet a deadly army of 30,000 Rangers and 6,000 Soldiers of Gondor marked the time 'til they would, with bow and sword and blood, declare again their oath of fealty to the right King of Gondor.
The company, now stronger by ten 'neath the command of Lieutenant Sírondren¹, made their way west from Linhir, taking a track that ran south of the Hills of Tarnost, through what would one day be Dor-en-Ernil, to Belfalas whither it turned north-northwest 'til it reached the southern coast 'nigh the Cobas Haven. ¹(Sírondren, Rocky River = sír(river) + ondren(rocky) Sindarin)
On 7 Gwirith (April 7th), the company came to the gates of Edhellond. Long were the years since the two ellith had set foot thither. Celeborn and Galadriel were many centuries gone, and as 'twas in Lebennin, the lands were now ruled by Men. Like the Men of Lebennin, the Men of Edhellond were not of Dúnedain heritage and chaffed 'neath the prejudice and discrimination of the usurper king. Unlike the Men of Lebennin, the Men of Edhellond were not Rangers. Edhellond and Belfalas had ne'er partaken of the rule of the First Guardians, for in those years, they had been ruled by Celeborn and Galadriel, and thither still remained many of old King Lenwë's folk. Yet as the Elves gradually sailed for the west, 'twas the local Men who came to rule. Now the best the company could do was to meet with some local lords. These they found welcomed the prospect of Eldacar's return, but were reluctant to openly oppose the power of Castamir.
"M'ladies, sailors, fisher folk, tradesmen, and farmers art we, not soldiers. We have no army, only some local militias, and those mostly volunteers, even in time of war," one told them apologetically.
"Long ago some of our more adventurous young men joined the Army of Gondor, way back in the days of Hyarmendacil. Some even marched with Rómendacil II, but for the most part we art peaceful, simple folk, not warriors," a nervous counselor said. Maglor and the two ellith could read the fear of conscription in his eyes.
"For many generations now a small settlement of Dúnedain have called Tirith Aear¹ home. That tower stands upon a promontory of the headland to the southeast. Thither the kings have long kept a bell for the safety of mariners sailing offshore. Perhaps they should be consulted?" A second lord offered hopefully. ¹(Tirith Aear, Sea Watch or Sea Guard = tirith(watch, guard) + aear(sea) lit. Watch or Guard of Sea vern. Sea-ward Tower)
Taking their leave of the lords at Edhellond, the company made their way through a number of hamlets and villages on their way west. Similar in sentiment were the folk of these settlements. Unhappy with the current rule, yet unwilling to involve themselves in its o'erthrow. If 'twas not a pure complacency, the mood of Belfalas could most aptly be described as grim endurance in hopes of better times, for even a king of Númenórean blood lived not fore'er. And had not their forefathers endured the rules of Alcarin, Narmacil and Calmacil?
"At the least we need not spend worry for them supporting Castamir," Beinvír said when they'd returned to the road after a fortnight's tour.
"Like many who enjoy peace at home, they look not to the threat abroad," Maglor agreed, "and yet all too oft doth that threat find its way to the doorstep. What then for these poor and simple folk?"
"Like many who blindly enjoy peace, they shalt be made thrall, or die, I wager," Helluin muttered, a dark expression ruling her features.
"E'er the optimist, eh Helluin?" The Prince of the House of Fëanor jested. "'Twas but a rhetorical query, my literal friend."
A growl came in response and he laughed aloud, intimidated not in the least.
"Literature and rhetoric I cede to thee, meldir nín," Helluin said after a pause, "yet a singer thou art and all too oft have we seen such themes repeated in The Song."
"The Song, aye," Maglor mused. And after taking some moments for reflection, he said, "of all its themes, that which speaks most to me is hope; unexpected, unlooked for, and yet more oft rewarded than all reason would make it. The lives of Beren, Húrin, Tuor, Eärendil, and even thy own exile partake of this. Surely thou can recognize the reward of hope amidst heartbreak and darkness."
"Hope I recognize, aye," Helluin admitted, "yet just as oft has rage supported me when hope seemed fey and all things sang of death and defeat."
And then, meeting Maglor's eyes, she added in silence that it should pass 'twixt the two of them alone, and of thee I would deem thy word-bond most dear, for I have seen thee honor thine oath long past all hope's fading, defying Men and Elves and even the Valar in pursuit of its fulfillment.
To this, the Prince of the House of Fëanor said, just as silently, aye, personal honor is still a thing of paramount worth to me, and yet with age I hope has come the wisdom to know better whence to bestow it. A grin curled his lips and he turned from Helluin to survey the road ahead. In silence, to himself alone, he completed his thought, and even though ill placed, still we fulfilled our oath in the end, my brother and I.
From Belfalas the company rode north to Lamedon, deeming their time better spent thither than at a bell tower located in the opposite direction. Instead of visiting the lands that would one day be called Dol Amroth, they rode away from the coast, 'til upon the river Ciril in the shadows of the Ered Nimrais, they came to Calembel and met with the ominously named Lord Mórthróg¹, whose family had been hereditary rulers for as long as any thither could recall. ¹(Mórthróg, Black Wolf = mór(black) + draug(wolf) At the partition in Sindarin proper names, -d becomes –th, and the diphthong –au simplifies to ó. Sindarin)
The Man lived up to his name. Tall as a Dúnadan, (which he was not), and with the formidable musculature of a warrior, he sported long, slightly wavy black hair pulled back into a ponytail and bound by a leather thong. A beard and moustache trimmed short adorned his face. His glance was piercing sharp, his eyes dark, and his bearing disciplined. Though long aforetime Isildur had cursed the traitorous king of the mountain folk to be their last, this Man preserved still some remnant of that strain of royalty.
Helluin and Beinvír were at first taken aback by his fierce appearance, and his heritage they could read in his features. Their distrust was immediate, yet they came to learn that all evidence belied a spirit surprisingly noble, and an intellect keen from observation rather than book learning.
"Like my father and his father ere him, I journeyed somewhat in my youth. Nay, not far afield by thy standards, yet to Lebennin and Lossarnach I came, and even to the Pelennor," he told them o'er wine and cakes in his chambers. "Thither I saw much that was wholly at odds with Belfalas, whither hearts and minds art turned mostly within.
Most impressed was I with Lebennin, whither I was taken by sentries I had not seen ere I had come a furlong past the border, thence held, questioned, and released to continue upon my way. In time I came to sense the watchfulness which that land's tranquil nature belies, whereas in Gondor, all is quite visible, indeed set upon rigid and vulgar display," he chided.
Having been so long afield, his words rang true to Helluin and Beinvír whose affinities cleaved most closely to the invisible realm of the Laiquendi. Maglor, now captain of a vagabond force, understood Mórthróg's impressions, though his own background of Noldorin royalty birthed in him a visceral bristling, for of the Noldor had the Dúnedain long aforetime learnt their forms of nobility and courtly conduct. In the end, 'twas pragmatism that ruled.
"Lord Mórthróg, soon King Eldacar shalt come to reclaim his throne," Helluin said. The Lord of Calembel received her declaration without reaction. "How stand thee? Shalt thou favor the son of Valacar, or Castamir of Umbar?"
For some moments he made no answer, but simply looked unwavering into the Noldo's eyes. Then finally he said, "Lamedon has long been tributary to Gondor, though I have little love at heart for these o'erlords from 'cross the sea. Of the two, Eldacar had not the time upon the throne to prove himself for good or ill regarding us. Castamir has made his disdain for us plain since naming himself king. I shalt not support him. Yet of Eldacar I shalt say that he is not the only king who yearns to retake his throne."
To this the Noldo nodded in acceptance. 'Twas not the declaration for which she had hoped, but 'twas one with which she could live.
"If trouble comes from Lamedon, t'will not be this day," Helluin said after they had taken their leave of Mórthróg. "'Twas no lie in his eyes when he said he would not support Castamir."
"Yet neither shalt he truly support Eldacar," Maglor said.
"Aye, at heart he shalt not," Helluin said, "and yet for him, 'tis of necessity that he accepts Gondor's rule 'til his people again rule their own. I deem he shalt be waiting long."
"His line has already waited long," said the Green Elf. "I cannot help but wonder what quality of king he would make?"
"I wonder not, for so long as Isildur's curse holds, there shalt be no king in Calembel, and so long as Gondor stands, Lamedon shalt have no independence," Helluin replied.
Now their way took the company hence to the vast but sparsely populated lands of Pinnath Galen, the long and rolling Green Hills of the south west. A few homesteads they saw, the cottages of hunters or herders, and a few small hamlets of farmers and fishermen in Anfalas, south of the hills along the coast. 'Twas a hundred leagues east-west 'twixt the rivers Morthond and Lefnui, and some sixty leagues north-south. When Beinvír asked of them after their lord she was met with only shrugs and the shaking of heads.
"Truly, have none authority in these lands to answer to the king?" Maglor asked in astonishment after some seventeen day's travel about the land.
"Such may be indeed, for it seems the few living hither can order their days by their own wisdom without such conflicts as demand the king's attentions," Helluin mused as she looked 'round. She mentally tallied the count of those they had seen. "I deem we have marked no more than two thousand souls throughout all these lands, in size, akin to Lebennin and Belfalas together. 'Tis a hinterland and 'naught but a buffer against Dunlendish expansion."
"Aye, and yet 'tis still a part of Gondor," Maglor replied, "with a generous coastline for the landing of an invasion force upon some day to come. 'Tis 'naught but an unguarded back door into the king's realm."
"I agree," Helluin said, looking about with a sharper eye on her memory of the lands they had passed that now displayed the routes an invading army might take.
"T'would be a long march east to Anduin," the Green Elf observed.
"Aye," Maglor agreed, "t'would be a long and uncontested march, at least 'til they came to Lebennin."
"Yet if such invaders could also invest Linhir, t'would be a much lessened resistance to o'ercome upon the road," Helluin said.
"What enemy of Gondor has sufficient strength of ships and Men to mount such an assault with Gondor's navy opposing them?" Maglor asked.
"Castamir," both Helluin and Beinvír said almost as one.
"And he would have not Gondor's navy to oppose him," Maglor finished for them.
"'T'would be a harder road, should there be resistance at Edhellond," Beinvír mused.
"We must speak of this to Eldacar," Helluin said. "Would that Lord Barahíl held the fief of Belfalas as well as Lebennin."
'Twas then 15 Lothron, (May 15th), and the long road west and north lay ahead. The company had some forty leagues to ride ere they even came to the borders of Anfalas at the river Lefnui. Thither, in the shadows of the western spur of the Ered Nimrais that made its way down to Andrast, they would cross by high paths into the easternmost lands of Drúwaith Iaur, fording thence the river Adorn ere following the foothills of the White Mountains northward to the gap of the river Angren.
'Twas the lands of Drúwaith Iaur that left Helluin and Beinvír most unsettled. E'er had they been but sparsely populated, yet any whom they could rightly expect to meet thither would likely be unfriendly. Whether Enedwaith or Dunlending from 'cross Angren, no friendship would they have for the Firstborn or the Men of Lebennin.
Another possibility the two ellith shared in silence. 'Twas at 'nigh the same time of year, whilst crossing the upper reaches of the Adorn, that they had met the first Drúghu they had e'er encountered in Middle Earth. In S.A. 1375 they had been stalked for much of their journey upriver by Glûn, meeting him finally only by chance. He could likely have slain them at any time, yet in the end after a short conversation, he had merely dubbed Helluin a gôrgbu, and then refused to be further ensnared by their wiles.
Now the two ellith worried as to what impression they would make, an armed and mounted company, passing in haste through those same lands. Were they watched still? Or had the Drúedain passed into the shadows and walked no more? Of that kindred no latter day tales told, and save for a few accounts from the earliest days of the Edain in Beleriand, they were wholly unknown. Helluin and Beinvír's single, brief encounter likely made up half the whole lore of that people for the past three and one half thousand years. The other half of that lore being their experience in the valley north of Mindolluin in T.A. 870.
Ere we come to Drúwaith Iaur we must speak of our last visit, the Green Elf said silently whilst looking Helluin in the eyes.
Aye, we must, and in camp this night we shalt do so, Helluin replied, though whether or not any harken to us…that shalt be seen.
I pray their belief, or lack of it, is not tested upon this journey.
And I hope no poisoned darts find us, or we shalt become gôrgbin¹ in truth as well as in title. ¹(Helluin's attempt to form a Sindarin plural using–in with a Drúedain noun ending in a vowel, as few Sindarin nouns do)
That night, whilst the company sat gathered 'round trench fires for the evening meal, Helluin and Beinvír recounted their tale and attempted to warn their companions of a threat they deemed that even they would not likely mark. Maglor's warriors heeded their warning, but with skepticism, for they had been trained to such stealth as the Firstborn could attain, and this far beyond that of any mortals they had met, even the Rangers. The Lebennin Rangers believed more easily, for 'twas not in their nature to doubt the First Guardians. Alone of the company, Maglor believed completely.
"Hear me, Elves and Men. Of the Drúedain I know firsthand from long, long ago," the Prince of the House of Fëanor declared, "for in the 375th year of the First Age, my brother Caranthir came to the aid of the People of Haleth even as their stockade 'twixt Ascar and Gelion was o'errun by the Glam. In the aftermath he saw several of the companions of the Haladin, whom they called the Drú. These art surely the same Drûg of which Helluin and Beinvír speak. Now ere the Haladin removed to Estolad, Caranthir sought me, for my lands were then directly north of his, and harkening to him, I came amongst the Haladin and saw for myself these Drú of whom he spoke. No less an Adaneth¹ than Haleth herself attested to the prowess and woodscraft of these friends, for though e'er few in numbers, with stealth and poisoned darts they had slain many times their count of Yrch in the battle whilst losing none of their own." ¹(Adaneth, a woman of the three houses of the Edain. Sindarin)
His words brought silence 'round the campfires as all thought upon his tale. His own company could not doubt his word, for they saw no lie in his eyes. To the Rangers, Maglor's words merely reinforced what their First Guardians had said.
"When we enter the lands of the Drûg, greater watchfulness shalt avail ye 'naught," Beinvír told them, "for in the past 'twas many days ere any presence could we confirm. Rather, go forward quietly and with respect for the land. In seeking to draw a minimum of attention I deem we shalt appear as kindred spirits, though perhaps of lesser craft. Therein we may appear the lesser threat as well."
The company took her words to their bedrolls, and in the morn, though they were still some days from the high passes leading down into Drúwaith Iaur, the company took on a more somber mood, and in spite of her words, a heightened watchfulness as well. So 'twas that upon 23 Lothron (May 23rd), the company came down from the Ered Nimrais and into the foothills of the Land of the Old Drú, nervously searching every shadow for squat and secretive watchers. That their progress had been marked ere e'er they entered the pass, and their footsteps dogged thereafter was suspected only by a few, and confirmed by none.
Now the company made their way at a steady pace in the uplands, and on the two ellith's counsel they camped cold, gathering neither deadfall, nor chopping standing wood. Trail rations and water were consumed sparingly and with little ceremony save a moment's silent thanks. At night, Men slept lightly and Elves sat watching the stars, or traveling the roads of their memories. Most oft, Maglor, Helluin and Beinvír sat speaking silently eye to eye whilst observing their darkened surroundings with bright eyes, secretly hoping to mark some shift of shadow or glint of starlight upon a mortal eye. Yet they saw 'naught and the land seemed at peace, and though they could feel 'twas a watchful peace, 'twas still peace nonetheless and welcome. They knew not that the Dunlendings and Ened traveled these lands but rarely and only in fearful groups close to their own borders, for like the land of Hollin to the north, 'twas reckoned a haunted land long rumored to host a silent and nameless fear.
So the days passed without incident and the march north through Drúwaith Iaur took 'nigh a week, for now they traveled mostly afoot, leading their horses, and not in haste. Upon 26 Lothron they forded the Adorn. By good fortune and the work of time, they found a place of shallow water 'twixt low banks that the horses could manage, a place that Helluin and Beinvír knew had not existed upon their earlier journey long aforetime. Upon 30 Lothron they saw the northward spur of the Ered Nimrais bending east, and the sharp-eyed amongst them marked a glint off the waters of the river Angren, now but three leagues to the north. Also by the 30th, the sense of being watched had faded, and they made their way northeast with a sense of relief.
The company turned north following the curve of the Angren upon 2 Nórui, (June 2nd), and made the fords the next day. The Dúnedain fortress of Angrenost now lay some forty miles north, 'twixt the southernmost arms of the Hithaeglir, and they went forward warily at a walking pace. Upon the 5th, the heather covered hill called Dol Baran lay due west and but a league distant. In the evening, they quickly left the road to evade detection by a patrol of the Northern Army of Gondor which they expected was loyal to Castamir. The company advanced no further that eve, choosing instead to camp amidst the shelter of the low growth and trees at the northern foot of Dol Baran.
A grim lot they were, Beinvír told Helluin and Maglor after returning from shadowing the patrol. T'would seem they find little joy in their posting.
The garrison's boredom we have marked aforetime, Helluin said, recalling Captain Barahir in S.A. 3430, just ere the War of the Last Alliance, and Captain Galdor in T.A. 1002.
Aye, the Green Elf agreed, and perhaps t'will be a boon to us upon this visit as well.
So how shalt we assail such a stronghold as thou hast described? Maglor asked.
We shalt not assail it literally, meldir nín, Helluin answered. Rather than arms, we shalt make merry and lighten the garrison's mood. I deem thou shalt be best served by thy hope and thy harp.
Upon 6 Nórui a trio of the Firstborn approached the south gates of Angrenost. Thither they were challenged by the sharp-eyed Sergeant of the Guard who stood front and center before a block of sixteen soldiers.
"Halt at once, strangers," cried out the sergeant as he looked them o'er with obvious suspicion. "By order of His Majesty King Castamir, Captain-Admiral of the Fleets and Lord-Commander of the Armies of Gondor, thou art ordered to declare yeselves and your errand."
Well said, no doubt after several years rehearsal, Helluin thought upon hearing his rede.
As agreed 'twixt them aforetime, 'twas Beinvír who addressed the guard's leader, she being the least threatening of the trio.
"Hail and well met, good Sergeant of Gondor. I am Beinvír, Laiquende of Eriador, who has aforetime served the Lords of Gondor in peace and war. With me art Helluin Maeg-móremenel, Úlairdacil and friend to the Dúnedain since the days of Elros Tar-Minyatur, and Maglor of the House of Finwë, a gifted singer of our folk. Calling no place home, we travel the lands to gain knowledge of the world, meddling not in the policies of kings and trespassing not upon the laws of their realms."
Greatly do I hope he is not a true seer, for I am lying 'twixt my teeth, she thought.
The sergeant stared at her in slack-jawed amazement. Half of what she claimed was unintelligible, the remainder, impossible. Though no lore master, he recognized the name of Elros Tar-Minyatur from the ancient tales of lost Atalantë, the mythical Dúnedain homeland that the gods had sunk 'neath the sea ere the dawn of Gondor's history. Any amongst the living claiming to have known him must be a crank. The rest of the names were gibberish. Just about all he could be sure of was that she claimed to hail from the western lands whither the broken realm of Arnor lay in ruin, long piecemeal and clinging still to its lost glory. As for their errand, it sounded like either an indulgence of the indigent, or a cover for espionage.
Like an increasing count of the common Dúnedain of his era, the sergeant considered himself a practical man foremost, concerned with the doings of his time and place. Book learning he valued less than his training, which allowed him to discharge his duty to lord and land, thereby earning esteem and a place amongst his fellow Men within the traditions of his culture. Of history he knew less than many of his forebears; of the Eldar, 'naught but rumor and myth. He recognized these strangers not as Firstborn Children of Eru, but rather as delusional vagabonds, or perhaps outright liars whose cunning he would not chance to judge in haste whilst guarding the gate. Interrogation by his captain was his recourse to doubt, and in any case, he could not in good conscience, allow such lunatics free passage within his lord's realm.
"Strangers, ye shalt accompany me before the Captain of Angrenost, thither to offer with veracity whatsoe'er he shalt ask of ye 'til he finds satisfaction and can decide your fate."
At a gesture, eight soldiers broke formation and approached the three Eldar, bracketing them and indicating that they should march through the gate. Beinvír offered the sergeant a smile and all three bowed, then moved forward with three soldiers on each side, one ahead, one behind, and the sergeant leading the way, like common criminals being escorted to gaol.
To Be Continued