In An Age Before – Part 133
Chapter Ninety
Imladris and Eriador – The Third Age of the Sun
Now following their sojourn in the South Kingdom, Helluin and Beinvír returned to Eriador, first to report to the Lord Elrond upon their embassy, and then to spend some time about their own business, far from the doings of armies and kings. To Imladris they came upon 17 Narbeleth, (October 17th), T.A. 1447, with the color of the autumn leaves at its height, the days still fair, but the nights already chill. They were shown to the study of the Lord of the Hidden Valley, finding its furnishings unchanged since their last visit in 1356. O'er seeded cakes and a dry, white wine they proffered their tidings of Gondor.
"Mae govannen, Helluin a Beinvír. I am glad to see ye safely returned. Speak to me of Gondor, for though we have heard tell that King Eldacar rules again, many details art yet unknown."
"My Lord Elrond, with great loss has the succession in the House of Minalcar been restored," Helluin told the Peredhel, "for following fifteen years of exile and war, the Lord Eldacar has reclaimed his father's throne from the Captain-Admiral Castamir, a second cousin supported by many nobles from Osgiliath and Umbar."
"The sons of many noble houses now lie dead in Gondor. Their passion for the purity of their blood having led to 'naught but spilt blood in the end, t'would seem," the Green Elf said.
"So from King Valacar's joining with Princess Vidumavi came the civil war?" Elrond asked, to clarify the causes.
"Aye, yet I deem the diminishing of nobility that many feared is but fear alone in this case," Helluin told him, "for no loss could I mark in Vinitharya Eldacar from the mingling of his blood, though I suppose that time alone shalt tell."
"I must agree," Elrond said, "and yet the longevity of the Dúnedain was already a thing variable, and too, many a king has died untimely in war. Still, I have a greater fear for the Men of the West than the mingling of their blood. I deem that at the root of their fears o'er mixed blood lies the old shadow of the fear of death, e'er the bane of Men."
"'Tis as good an excuse as any for their desperate clinging to the solace of lineage and tradition that we marked amongst the noble families," Helluin said.
"Yet by that measure, the kindred of Númenor fell furthest at the height of their nobility," Beinvír observed, "for was not Ar-Pharazôn their most powerful king?"
"Aye, the most powerful," Elrond agreed, "but also the first Usurper, who wedded his close cousin Miriel in defiance of the succession and the laws of the Dúnedain, thereby to advance his ambition and craving for power. Greatly did the fear of death drive him, and all know to what end. But tell me now of Eldacar and Castamir, and the kin-strife of Gondor."
Thereafter the two ellith offered many details of the defense of Osgiliath and its fall, the exile and return of King Eldacar, and the mood of the people after. Several hours passed in council, yet when all was said and all the Lord's questions answered, the loremaster had such information as he deemed proper to include in Gobennas e-Nos Goth Gondor, (A History of the Kin-Strife of Gondor).
"My friends," the Lord of Imladris said, "a great service ye have done in your aid to the South Kingdom of the Dúnedain, for in years to come, though perhaps its majesty fade, still shalt Gondor be the strongest and best defense against Mordor. In restoring the rightful king, I deem the fear of the shadow of death has been for a time diminished, for had Castamir continued in his rule, much that caused the Fall of Númenor could have been repeated in Gondor, to the detriment of all peoples.
Now a long and hard journey ye have had, and so my friends, be welcome and hither take your ease for howsoe'er long ye feel inclined to tarry. Ye have my sincerest thanks."
And silently to Helluin he spoke eye to eye, saying, narrowly have we dodged the fall of the headsman's axe in this, and I deem the threat to those with whom we both share blood has been ameliorated, for a time. I salute thy achievement, my dear friend, and I thank thee from the bottom of my heart.
So a battle we have won, meldir nín, Helluin replied, yet Men's fear of death was born in Hildórien, in the fear of darkness that Melkor laid upon them. So long as Men art mortal, that fear shalt challenge them…even the Edain.
To this, the Peredhel could but nod sadly in agreement.
So the winter of 1447-8 Helluin and Beinvír spent amongst their friends in the Hidden Valley, but in the spring they took their leave of the Lord Elrond and his people and made their way west into Eriador, hoping to meet thither their old friends, Dálindir, Gérorn, Celegaras, and perhaps also the general, Tórferedir, and his lieutenant, Gwilolrán. As e'er, seeking for the Laiquendi was more a matter of letting the search be known and then waiting to be found. Indeed in the past, 'twas oft but chance that had brought Helluin together with the company of the Green Elves, as had been the case ere their meeting with Iarwain Ben-adar in S.A. 1261. And unlike her desperate summoning of that kindred in T.A. 1356, they would fire no burning arrows skyward, for they sought not to alarm their friends with rumors of war.
From the Ford of Bruinen they followed the East Road as it ran north of The Angle, through the rough lands that had been southern Rhudaur, though that land was for the most part deserted now, and they came down to The Last Bridge o'er the Mitheithel on the morn of their sixth day. A leisurely pace they had set, for none expected them any place at any time, and the season was fair. 'Twas 26 Gwaeron (March 26th), T.A. 1448.
For three more days the two ellith made their way west upon the Great East Road, and they camped upon the eve of the 29th some twenty leagues out from Weathertop, the southernmost height of the Weather Hills, upon whose summit lay the ruins of Amon Sûl. About them the land lay still in the gloaming, whither Eärendil set sail and the first stars twinkled their comfort. A trench fire they laid, to heat water for a soothing tea, and to roast a plump rabbit that the scant brush 'nigh the road had failed to conceal from the Green Elf's bow.
Having skinned and cleaned the coney, Beinvír regarded the pelt, recalling a pair of slippers worn by the mistress of a phantom house, herself but a skin.
"'Tis a shame to waste it," she said, setting it o'er her forearm and hand, filling thus its body, and with her fingers, animating its head, "yet we have not the time or the means to clean and stretch it whilst upon the road."
Helluin appraised the apparition of the pelt as her partner made it hunch and nibble at some grass. The Green Elf's intimate knowledge of the behavior and characteristic movements of living rabbits provided a rather disturbing performance.
"I find thy necromancy of the departed vaguely unsettling," she chided with the shadow of a grin. "Shalt its spirit crave the return of its flesh sometime following our meal?"
Inspired by this turn of conversation, the Green Elf offered a spontaneously contrived rhyme, whilst enacting the narrative with her rabbit puppet.
Plumpy-dumpy hid 'neath a bush,
'Til an arrow took him swiftly with a whoosh.
His skin was flayed and his entrails they strayed,
Whilst his meat wished that his spirit had stayed.
But all the king's horses and all the king's Men,
Couldn't put Plumpy-dumpy together again.
"After that I shalt probably wish we had made this rabbit into a stew," Helluin said, "or perhaps baked it into some biscuits."
On Beinvír's hand the pelt jerked upright in alarm, stared at the Noldo for a heartbeat, and then with a flick of her wrist, fled into the surrounding darkness. For a moment there was silence, and then both began laughing uncontrollably.
"Not really funny," Helluin gasped 'twixt bouts of laughter.
"Nay, not at all," Beinvír agreed, ere collapsing in another fit.
Eventually they recovered their composure, and in good time shared their supper as well, putting e'er to rest any hopes of the rabbit's spirit recovering its meat. The bones alone followed the pelt back into the underbrush. Thereafter they took their leisure, sipping from steaming mugs of tea and reclining upon groundcloths of pika pelts, whilst watching the stars and reveling in their memories.
Now the night wore on as the hours of darkness passed, yet increasingly the two ellith found a dearth of peace in it. Helluin took to shifting her sight from vista to vista in the dark, seeking for the source of her disquiet. Beinvír fidgeted, repeatedly sitting up to scan the surrounding lands. 'Naught but shadows did they see, and yet both felt a growing sense of foreboding.
Finally Helluin sat upright, looked to her partner and said, "'tis perhaps the unquiet ghost of our meal that returns to haunt us, or some other of ill mien that approaches."
"I too have felt some evil drawing 'nigh," the Green Elf replied, "but faintly at first, yet now, not to be ignored."
"Aye," the dark Noldo agreed, "and e'er 'tis better to confront such as would spawn dark deeds than await them and be taken upon their terms."
With that they arose, packed their gear, and doused their fire. Needing no further discussion they began walking south, off the road and into the Lone-lands, taking their way half westerly towards the easternmost of the South Downs of Cardolan. In truth that land was lately familiar; but two decades aforetime they had aided the Cardolanath in expelling the last invaders allied with Angmar. Many battles they had fought 'nigh the border with Rhudaur, whilst instructing the Lord Húngan and his Men in the ways of a Ranger. So for an hour they trod on, whilst the certainty of impending conflict grew in their minds with each step.
Now when they had come some five miles from their campsite their sense of danger abruptly rose. Then from someplace 'nigh they heard the hoof beats of a horse fleeing in the dark, and so they fell into that stealth by which the Laiquendi confounded all, friend and foe alike. 'Twas almost too easy, remaining unmarked in the dead of night, and so they came silently upon a scene of carnage.
Thither, amidst the ruins of a small camp, a family of travelers numbering six lay slaughtered by a dozen marauding Hillmen who yet strode amongst the fallen seeking for plunder. Before their eyes, one bent to deliver the final stroke to a feeble victim whose last moments had already been at hand. As he withdrew his blade, an arrow took him in the eye.
In the next moment Helluin charged them, swift, dark, and silent, whilst from the darkness came another arrow to lodge in the throat of a second attacker. Then the Noldo was upon them and Anguirél rejoiced to shed their blood, the Black Sword of Gondolin driven deep into the chest of a third ere the Noldo kicked his body from her blade and took the head of the man beside him.
Though accustomed to assailing the weak, the few, and the unarmed, the Hillmen saw but one come against them, and though four of their company had fallen with shocking swiftness, still they numbered eight. The courage of bullies they had, and facing one alone, clad in a shabby cloak of patchwork greens, they came against the warrior with blind confidence and bloodlust, deeming themselves more than a match for their foe. They marked neither the armor she wore, nor that she was of the Firstborn, reckoning her for 'naught but one of the ragged Cardolan Rangers, driven by honor to aid the hapless, but unfortunate to have come upon them alone.
They expected to encircle her whilst holding her at bay with their daunting advantage in numbers, yet against Helluin, who believed 'tis better to confront such as would spawn dark deeds than await them and be taken upon their terms, such a plan was folly. As they moved to close with her she leapt forward, straight into their midst, hewing off limbs and heads, gouging bellies with the long dagger in her left hand, and impaling bodies with such speed and surety that they had not even the time to be amazed. And from the surrounding dark, two more deadly arrows came to fell another 'twain, dropping them with unnatural accuracy ere the Black Sword stilled, the last Hillman's blood hot upon her blade.
"E'er grateful am I to lay low thy foes, O Helluin," Anguirél said. "I thank thee for the anointment of blood."
"E'er grateful am I to wield thee, O Anguirél," Helluin said in praise, "for what warrior would not rejoice to bear one of Varda's own?"
After cleaning and sheathing her blades, Helluin joined Beinvír inspecting the fallen, to learn thereby the tale of this night's mayhem. 'Twas a way of honoring the victims after avenging them, and ere laying them to rest.
How came ye hither, and whither would ye go, the Green Elf wondered as she sought for clues.
"Here lie two who may have been servants, fallen in their lord's defense whilst armed with 'aught that was 'nigh to hand," she reported to Helluin.
The two Men were not of Dúnedain blood, shorter, stockier, and darker. One had been impaled through the chest, a notched brand from the camp fire smoldering beside him, the other hewn 'cross the neck, a cook's knife still clutched in his hand.
'Cross the camp Helluin looked down at a woman whose throat had been slit, dark haired, pale skinned, and comely of face. A few paces away lay a Man of Dúnedain blood, stabbed twice in the chest. The ring of joining on his left hand matched one the woman bore; husband and wife, she reckoned. He at least had died with a sword in his hand. Shaking her head sadly, she made her way to the body of a crone, slumped against a wagon wheel, her head twisted unnaturally to face back o'er her own shoulder.
"Hither lies a family slaughtered," she told her partner, "with two servants, mother, father, and grandam."
The Green Elf nodded and came to join her o'er the last body, that of a younger woman fallen on her face a stride behind the wagon. Helluin turned her and they saw that she had been fair of face and younger than they'd first thought, perhaps in her late teens. The resemblance to the dead parents they could also see plainly. She had been their child, no doubt. No band of joining adorned her finger, yet they marked the full breasts of a new mother. Turning to face each other o'er her body, the same thought they shared in silence, eye to eye. Whither is her child? T'would be but a babe.
Amongst the contents of the wagon they first sought, and next, within the slashed open tent, but finding 'naught, they widened their search to the ground 'round the campsite. For a time they examined the dark shadows 'neath scrub and patches of long grass with a growing fear that they would find only a tiny corpse, for few babies remained silent when cold, hungry, and alone. Only could they hope that the babe had slept through the carnage and thereby preserved its life. Finally 'twas Helluin whose attention was drawn to the panicked flight of some small animal. 'Twas another rabbit, she realized, hoping to draw her away from its nesting burrow. And finally thither, 'nigh some disturbed ground in a slight hollow 'neath a raspberry bramble, she found a baby swaddled in a blanket of deep blue. Turning back to beckon Beinvír, she marked that she was not two fathoms from the tent.
The babe was indeed asleep, and soundly so. She woke not when the Green Elf gently lifted her from the ground. Then the two ellith stood facing each other and pondering their course. Ne'er aforetime had any traveled with them for long, save the two black cats of Osgiliath who had exiled themselves into the ellith's company in the time of the mad queen Berúthiel. A mortal infant seemed out of the question.
"Cruel is the fate that has left this child bereft of her family ere e'er she knew them. So what now, meldanya?" Helluin asked. Such a simple question it seemed.
"We must care for her of course, for there art no others to do so. Thou hast raised a daughter aforetime," Beinvír reasoned, "how hard could it be?"
"I raised a daughter, aye," the Noldo replied, "in Númenor, 4,200 years ago… aided first by my husband's family in Rómenna, and later by the royal court in Armenelos. Still, Vëantur and I spent 'nigh two decades ashore after her birth, caring for her, teaching her, and later, foiling childish and mischievous plots. As I recall, her first two years alone felt like two decades…"
"Surely we cannot leave her alone in the wild, meleth nín. She is an innocent and has suffered already worse than do most in a lifetime. Yet we know 'naught of her relations or her home."
"Aye, t'would seem we have been appointed this babe's guardians for a time," the Noldo agreed, "at least 'til we can discover whither she truly belongs. In the meantime, I wager she shan't sleep through the night, and ere dawn shalt awaken, bawling, hungry, and in need of changing, a scene to be repeated several times a day. Perhaps clean swaddling is to be found in the wagon or the tent, but most likely not a wet nurse."
Startled by this reality, the Green Elf offered, "perhaps I can rock her back to sleep."
"No doubt," Helluin agreed, "and that many times a day as well. The warmth of thy body and a song softly sung should aid thy cause. Ere her mother's body cools, I would urge thee to bring forth from her such milk as may be taken. One meal more at least she can provide. For now I shalt examine the dead, seeking such clues as may be found."
Shortly later she pointed out a set of tracks, "hither a horse pulled its picket and fled, no doubt the hoof beats we heard just ere we arrived."
In the end she found little else indeed; a locket on a fine chain of gold 'round the mother's neck, and a signet ring upon the first finger of her left hand, and from the father, an old but unremarkable sword. Upon the locket chain, Helluin added the signet ring to the joining rings of both parents. That, the sword, and the blanket she was wrapped in comprised the whole of the babe's estate. From her young mother she had inherited 'naught but the shape of her nose and the set of her eyes. It seemed the family had chosen to travel the wild without any tokens declaring their affiliations, no doubt expecting any who knew them to need such not, and any who knew them not to remain unknowing. The mother's ring alone might have provided a clue, but the device of its seal she recognized not. 'Twas frustrating, but 'twas what 'twas and there was 'naught to be done about it thither. With a sigh, she began digging graves.
To Beinvír had fallen the onerous task of retrieving the babe's next meal, and scarce had this been achieved ere the infant awoke, squalling and in need of a change, just as Helluin had predicted. The Green Elf counted herself fortunate to have discovered in the tent a bag containing several soft cloths and a small ball of felt into which a number of pins had been stuck. With a water skin 'nigh the campfire she cleaned the infant and replaced its diaperage, affixing it with pins in the manner of the soiled cloth. Then she fed the babe, dipping her finger o'er and o'er into the cup of milk 'til all had been consumed. And finally she rocked and sang her back to sleep. Thus greatly encouraged, she set the child into the chest carrier the young mother had worn. This she donned 'neath her cloak ere laundering the soiled diaper and repairing the campfire.
Three hours past dawn, having buried the dead and broken their own fasts, the two ellith set out for the nearest mansion of Cardolan they knew, that being the home of their old friend, Húngan son of Baragund, Regent of the Red Hill Country 'neath the crown of Arthedain. The Dúnadan was now just o'er 130 years of age, and they had seen him last twenty-one years aforetime, following the repossession of Cardolan by the survivors of the war with Angmar. Ahead they had a two day march of some sixteen leagues, for Húngan lived north of the eastern verge of the South Downs, whither the rough, Lone-lands gave way to smoother, rolling hills.
"And just whyfor would this family have camped so far off the road?" Beinvír mused as they trudged on. "The lands hereabouts art scarcely a way of choice for a wagon when the road lies not five miles north."
"I can only guess that they wanted not to be marked upon the road, though by whom, I know not," Helluin said. "Indeed we know not for sure even whither they were making their way, only that the wheel tracks showed they came from the west."
"Perhaps they were seen in Bree," the Green Elf suggested.
"Perhaps," Helluin agreed, "though to be seen in Bree whither people art, and then to hide once upon the road whither people art not makes little sense to me."
"Still, t'would be worth the asking if we come thither."
"Aye, though t'will not be this day, nor the next."
In the end, the two ellith were forced to march in haste, for the noon meal became a protracted affair. Lacking any source of milk, Helluin was forced to render a pap of squirrel meat by long chewing, whilst Beinvír was forced to prepare some roots in similar fashion. These the babe accepted, grudgingly it seemed, and sparingly as well, yet she starved not, and the soulmates took this as a victory of sorts. 'Twas a scene to be repeated several times a day, followed by the burping, the spit up, the rocking to sleep afterwards, and a resumption of their flight towards the home of their old friend.
Their destination was finally reached in the late morn of 2 Gwirith, (April 2nd), when they saw again the estate and mansion of Húngan, Regent of Cardolan. Whereas aforetime they had come in stealth and were met by Easterlings preparing a sacrifice, upon this morning they were met by Rangers of Cardolan who appeared from the verges of the lane leading to the mansion, in fashion similar to the Rangers of Lebennin long aforetime. Both parties knew the Elves had been marked long ere they set foot upon the property, and they had come openly in token of it. The following challenges and answers they exchanged were 'naught but formalities.
The Rangers greeted Helluin and Beinvír with fondness and welcome, and ere they reached the house, Húngan himself came forth to meet them. With him was a tall and comely woman, dark of hair, gray-eyed and pale skinned in the manner of the Dúnedain. Beside her was a boy who favored them both with a blend of their features. Coming to a halt at a fathom, the two ellith bowed to the Lord of the Red Hill Country.
"Hail and well met, Lord Húngan," Helluin said. "'Tis a joy to see thee well, and t'would seem, blessed with a family."
"Greetings, my friends," Húngan said. "'Tis e'er a joy to see ye both." And turning to his wife and son, introduced them, saying, "hither art Helluin of the Noldor and Beinvír Laiquende, of whom I have told thee many tales. This is my wife, Eilianu¹, and our son, Rochen² who celebrated his seventh year on 12 Nínui last." ¹(Eilianu, Rainbow Sindarin) ²(Rochen, Rider of Horses Sindarin)
"Greetings and welcome to our home, Helluin and Beinvír. At our son's birth all the horses came to the manor and gathered in the yard as if to pay homage," Eilianu said. "Much I have heard of ye indeed, and great thanks do I offer on behalf of our people."
"Greetings, Lord Húngan, Lady Eilianu, and Master Rochen. We art thankful for thy welcome," Beinvír said, addressing each in turn. Then, facing Húngan again, she said, "in truth we seek thy aid as both friend and regent. 'Tis a matter we must discuss with thee."
Here the Green Elf cast her glance to the babe sleeping in the carrier affixed to her chest, acknowledging thus the questioning looks from their hosts.
The Lord Húngan nodded and said, "ye art welcome to whatsoe'er I can do to aid ye," and then with a more concerned look, added, "we have 'aught to tell of Cardolan as well. Please, come inside. I deem we have much to discuss."
Now they went into the mansion, and the Lord of Cardolan led them to a study with many windows facing to the north, and thither they took seats before his desk, and he called for refreshments. The Lady Eilianu joined them, and even their son Rochen was not excluded, for, as Húngan told them, "the next Lord is not too young to learn what passes in the world."
"Many deeds great and small pass in the world; the more the wider thou cast thy net," Helluin began, "yet for now we have 'aught to report from 'nigh. Coming from Imladris we camped three nights past just off the Road some twenty leagues east of Amon Sûl, and in the early morning hours, felt a growing disquiet. Strong was our prescience of evil, and so we made our way south-west into the Lone-lands, whither, after two hour's march, we came upon the encampment of a family of six slaughtered by Hillmen numbering a dozen. These we quickly dispatched ere examining the fallen. A father and mother, with grandam, daughter, and two servants we first found, all cruelly slain, but the daughter was newly come to motherhood, and so we sought for her child. This babe we found, the sole survivor, hidden in haste by her mother, no doubt."
"Helluin sought for clues to the family's tale, but found 'naught save a few tokens ere laying them to rest," Beinvír said. "We have given what care we could to the child whilst making our way hither, a march of two and one-half days, in hopes of finding 'aught that may aid in discovering her kin and bettering her care. Foremost, a wet nurse we seek."
Sadness and sympathy they read upon the faces of Húngan and his family, as well as anger from the lord and lady.
"Of late we have had some troubles with Hillmen from Rhudaur waylaying travelers upon the road," Húngan told them. "Cardolan guards its borders, but the way is long and the Rangers still few for the miles that must be patrolled. Similar incidents we have suffered in the south, whither bands of Dunlendings vent their old hatreds as opportunity allows. With Arthedain we have peace, and from Hollin, no threat has e'er come."
"Pray tell us more of the family," Lady Eilianu asked. "What tokens did ye find?"
"Little enough we learnt of them," Helluin said, "save that the family was Dúnedain, and that they had traveled from the west with a wagon. Their horse fled back that same direction. The campsite was 'nigh on five miles south of the road. Whyfor they had chosen to come so far we know not, but suspect that they sought secrecy."
Beinvír unclasped the locket from 'round the babe's neck and held it out to the lord, the rings strung upon its chain. Helluin proffered the grandfather's sword. Húngan and his wife examined these closely, especially the signet ring that the mother had worn, yet at last they shook their heads, recognizing it not.
"Alas there is 'naught that we can say to enlighten ye, for this device is unfamiliar to us both. Thou said that they seemed to have come from the west. Since thou took them for Dúnedain, perhaps it hath significance in Arthedain?"
"Thither we shalt go," Helluin said, "yet I deem t'would be wise to keep hither a tracery lest any who come later might recognize it."
"I can do that," Rochen said.
"Indeed thou can," Eilianu said, smiling upon her son and explaining, "Rochen has a gift for draughtsmanship and letters, and has practiced much with pens and ink."
"Word of the orphaned babe shalt be sent forth, beseeching any in these lands who might know 'aught of a family in flight from the west to offer their counsel, and a wet nurse we shalt find from amongst the hamlets and estates 'nigh us," Lord Húngan said. "Ere that we shalt feed her with the milk of our cows or goats."
"Thou hast our thanks, Lord Húngan," Beinvír said, "and though t'would seem our errand shalt continue, for now at least the babe is safe."
"We shalt take our leave when Rochen has completed his depiction," Helluin said, "and if fortune smile upon us, a family and a heritage we shalt uncover for this child, yet even if such should not come to pass, perhaps one amongst thy people can accept her so that she finds a home and a new chance to live a good life."
"Our hopes go with ye upon this quest," Lady Eilianu said, "and for howsoe'er long it takes, this child shalt be a ward of Cardolan and 'neath our protection, for we deem each life of value, and this land has space for many more than we count amongst our people."
For a while they spoke of much else that had come to pass since they had last parted, whilst Rochen's careful eyes took in all ere he went to his labors with the signet ring clutched in his fist. In the day that followed he produced not only a perfect depiction of the signet ring, but also a startlingly accurate likeness of the babe to accompany Helluin and Beinvír to Arthedain. And after they had taken their leave, the Lady Eilianu found amongst the renderings upon his desk some sketches of their friends, so true in detail that none would mistake them.
To be continued