In An Age Before – Part 136
Upon 1 Gwirith, T.A. 1469, that being the day following the celebration of her twenty-first birthday, (for though all knew she was older, none knew by how much, and so they had chosen to mark her years from the day she had been found amidst the dead), Lainiel set out with Helluin and Beinvír upon a long anticipated visit to Imladris. Though they had taken different paths through time, so far as they knew, Elrond was her closest living relative. Great great grandparents in common they shared, making the loremaster her fourth cousin.
'Twas a fine spring in Eriador, and whilst still in Cardolan, few dangers were expected. Helluin and Beinvír let Lainiel set their path. The first part of their journey the young woman had ridden many times and knew well, and beyond The Last Bridge she knew the land from maps long studied, for this trip she had dreamt of both in sleep and in idle moments stolen from 'aught else. Though the Hidden Valley and its lord were legend, few were those who had visited thither; save for Helluin and Beinvír, none she knew. And she would come, not as a stranger, but as kin in the company of dear friends, and introduce herself with her grandfather's sword and the ring that now fit her finger.
Now the days of their journey passed without incident. On 5 Gwirith they reached the Last Bridge o'er Mitheithel and crossed into the lands of Rhudaur. They kept to the road as it wound north of The Angle and south of the forested hills of the Trollshaws, making for the Ford of Bruinen. On the heights above the road they saw abandoned castles and estates, burnt and broken ere the war with Angmar, and falling now into ruin. Helluin and Beinvír kept their guard, knowing that Hillmen roamed those uplands and were not above waylaying travelers for profit and sport. Seeing these lands for the first time, Lainiel was even more watchful than the ellith, surveying the forest and each twist and turn of the road.
They made the Ford of Bruinen on the 9th when, coming 'round a right-hand curve, the way took a sudden downturn 'twixt deepening shoulders. During the last day the margins of the road had been flatter, in places grassy, but as they drew 'nigh the river crossing, the road entered a cutting with steep sides of red sandstone rising upon either side and topped with thick stands of pine. In times of doubt those cliffs were watched by hidden sentries and none passed them unmarked, but now the three descended in peace and finally exited that slot canyon onto a flat and grassy field ending at the banks of the river, low on their side, but steep 'cross the water. Thither a trail climbed by switchbacks amidst trees, above whose crowns rose rank after rank of distant peaks, the western rampart of the Hithaeglir.
Lainiel's excitement grew with each step taken. Their destination was now in sight and soon she would see things new and strange to her, yet very old too, for Imladris had been established long ere her own fallen kingdom. She could hardly wait to meet Elrond and the other folk of the Hidden Valley. Through all her years 'til then, the only Elves she had met were her two friends and protectors. With each step she took, she tried to see all and commit all to memory.
Much as I remember myself upon the Westward March, Helluin thought. With each turn a new wonder to see, and a new world in each day, and e'er the desire to see what lies beyond. Familiar now is the way…I find I envy her, for I was an explorer too once.
I wonder when she shalt mark the watchers and know that they have long espied our approach, Beinvír thought. The flets in the trees upon the further bank art well hid and sight reveals 'naught, but still, one can sense the watchfulness of this place.
'Twas not 'til they had well 'nigh reached the water that Lainiel stopped short, intensely scanning the further bank. For long she stood still, sweeping the ford with her eyes, but seeing none. Finally she looked to her friends.
"Aye, we art marked and have been for some time," the Green Elf told her.
"'Tis but five score and thirteen since Imladris was laid 'neath a siege, and Eriador was at war not seventy years past, a short time as the Elves reckon it," Helluin said.
"And art we in danger?" Lainiel asked.
"Nay, for we have been allowed passage to the water," Beinvír said.
"The ground we crossed was aforetime heavily wooded like the further bank, but it has been leveled and cut of late and now lies open," the Noldo said. "'Tis a killing ground, a lawn groomed for shooting."
She watched as Lainiel looked back 'cross the field, understanding now its significance.
"Come," Helluin said, "we art expected."
With that they crossed the Bruinen, and somewhere in its midst Lainiel felt a sharpening of all her senses, as if a subtle fog had lifted and she could see the world afresh. The colors about her looked as if they were being marked for the first time, somehow more vibrant than any she had seen aforetime. Each sound came now more clearly to her ears; babble of water, breeze through leaves, whir of insect wings, songs of birds, and so too came the scent of water, earth, and pine. Even she was aware of the movement of her hair as she walked, the weight of her pack and clothing, and upon her skin, the air through which she moved. Upon the further bank she stopped, again looking all 'round.
"I feel as if…" but she knew not how to finish her sentence and fell silent.
Thou art affected by the Ring, Helluin thought, and not so art all of mortal kind.
"Hither I have marked that the stars shine most brightly," Beinvír said, "and all senses sharpen as upon waking from a dream, yet whether 'tis Imladris or the world that is the dream, I know not."
"Thou see the world as 'twas ere the Fading, I reckon, for slowly yet surely does Arda pass to a denser state," Helluin told her, "yet hither, much that once was is preserved."
Lainiel gulped, but nodded her acceptance of their explanations, and then they began to climb the path into the Hidden Valley. They were met by Lindir ere they passed from the woods and he greeted them happily, guiding them hence to the valley itself with its opening vista of the Bruinen running lively 'neath them, the sparkling ribbon falls of tributaries upstream, and upon a wide shelf of level land some two furlongs ahead, the House of Elrond with its terraces and bell tower, arches and colonnades, cupolas o'er dark slate rooves, gardens and shaded walks. All this Lainiel took in with a roving glance, stopping to watch figures moving in the distance, shadows dancing on white walls, the deep green of the surrounding trees, and behind, the backdrop of pale cliffs rising to high moors 'neath snow-capped peaks in the east, and all seen so sharply as to feel within her grasp.
"Helluin a Beinvír, anan ant tiriad lín tád lúin hé ennin, úauth,¹" Lindir said with the hint of a grin. ¹(Helluin a Beinvír, anan ant tiriad lín tád lúin hé ennin, úauth, Helluin and Beinvír, 'tis a treat to see you twice this century, without a war = Helluin + a(and) + Beinvír + anan(3rd pers neut prep pro, it is) + ant(gift/treat) + tirio-(look at) + -ad(inf v suff, to see) + lín(2nd pers pl dir obj pro, you) + tád(two) + lú(time) + -in(pl suff, two times/twice) + hé(this) + ennin(Elvish "century"/144 solar years) + ú-(not/without) + auth(war, without a war) Sindarin)
Helluin groaned; Beinvír rolled her eyes. Lainiel giggled.
"Thy guest speaks Sindarin," he observed.
"Lindir, our guest is Lainiel, Lady of the First House of the Atani," the Green Elf told him, "and Lainiel, our friend and guide is Lindir of Imladris."
"We have tidings for the Lord Elrond," Helluin added.
"When hast thou not?" Lindir replied with a smile ere he offered Lainiel a courteous bow with one hand upon his breast.
Shortly later, with their horses attended to by Elvish grooms, the three travelers were seated 'cross the desk from the Lord Elrond in his long familiar study, sipping goblets of a deep red wine and snacking upon a pale bannock sweetened with honey and raisins. Introductions were made and the Peredhel was wholly intrigued when Lainiel's lineage was revealed, for it left him with more questions than answers.
"But how can this be? The House of Baragund was lost in the First Age with the passing of Morwen Eledhwen and her three children."
"So lore recalls," Helluin said, "but Morwen had a sister, Dúrrél, her elder by three years, who left Dorthonian in the year of the Dagor Bragollach. Perhaps Morgoth knew 'naught of her, for she escaped the curse he laid upon Húrin's family, at least in her own time."
There followed many questions, and the two ellith answered, speaking long of their voyage with Captain Mórfang of Númenor and their mission to Tol Morwen. 'Twas all the loremaster could do to resist the urge to take pen in hand right then and there.
"So, the Lady Dúrrél's existence is beyond question," he said, appreciating the irony of accepting the word of the Black Sword of Gondolin. "I can imagine my footnotes for the emendations to the charts of lineage. How then came she to her end, and how hast thou determined Lainiel's descent from her?"
Thereafter followed Helluin and Beinvír's recounting of their discovery of the slaughtered family and their recovery of the infant girl in 1448. They spoke of their meeting with the Lord Húngan's family and their search through Arthedain, including their foray at Fornost and their meeting with Círdan. Lainiel displayed the signet ring, which Elrond examined closely. At the mention of Iarwain, the Peredhel shuddered, but held his peace through their recitation of his verses.
"Dost thou accept his prophecies?" He asked when Helluin fell silent.
"I have no reason not to," she replied, "for 'aught else that he hath told me aforetime has proven true."
Elrond reclined in his chair, and for some time tilted back his head and stared at a spot on the ceiling. Thither a knot in the paneling had captured his eye centuries ago, appearing rather like the head of a dragon when given the breadth of fancy, and it had become a focus for his meditations. Finally he sighed and looked back 'cross the desk to his guests.
"I am sure ye have marked then that Iarwain's words predict that one day long years ahead, some son of thy line, Lainiel, shalt be king of the restored realm of Arnor, and perhaps even of the whole realm of Elendil? That he shalt defeat Sauron, inaugurating a new Age, and that he shalt take in marriage the hand of my daughter, Arwen, or perhaps if the time be long enough, her daughter?"
Lainiel gulped. It seemed a hard destiny and an impossibly tall order for any one Man when summarized so, yet 'twas just the outcome they had all reached aforetime as well.
"So we have thought, Lord Elrond," Helluin said softly, "and yet we deem it a long time coming. Arthedain stands, and Gondor as well, and there is still much strength in the realms of the Dúnedain. Angmar is defeated and the Great Enemy has not declared himself anew. The One Ring is lost, the Barad-dûr a ruin, and Mordor is o'erseen by the vigilance of the South Kingdom."
"And what of this Balar son of Balan? Ye have said aforetime that ye rejoined him with distant kin and he became their king by acclaim. Yet no such realm did we mark even ere the coming of the Dúnedain. What of the direct line of Bëor?"
"To those questions we have not answers, for we have ne'er marked any kingdom of Men in Eriador, save those of the Dúnedain," Helluin said.
Again all fell silent in thought. It seemed that many emendations would the Peredhel now need to make to the charts of lineage, and some were loose ends which he had always hated. Far more upsetting was the prospect of his daughter, or perhaps granddaughter, wedding a mortal, a thing done only twice aforetime…with fatal consequences. And yet both of those cases had led to himself and his brother, and if a King of the Dúnedain were to wed a daughter of his line after defeating Sauron, would that not be a good thing for all who came after? The Song encompassed themes repeated; would not Iarwain's prediction be a fulfillment of that order? Iarwain had claimed to be restoring the proper unfolding of events in the Song; would not the greater sin be to hamper the Will of Ilúvatar and the Valar? Aforetime his ancestors, the Noldor amongst whom he counted himself, had defied the One and the Lords of the West…to dire consequence. Finally he sighed and shook his head. Whatsoe'er the doom that would unfold, 'twas beyond his will to change.
"As e'er the years shalt bring what they will," he said, "and all shalt do the parts set forth for them. Lainiel, my cousin, I offer thee the love of kinship and the same e'er welcome as my friends of old, Helluin and Beinvír. Stay howsoe'er long thou will and enjoy all that my house has to offer. I hope that we shalt speak again and oft.
Now the day has grown late and afternoon falls early to twilight in the valley. I pray the three of ye join me for the evening meal that I may present thee, Lainiel, to my household and other guests."
"T'would be my honor, Lord Elrond," Lainiel said.
Swift pass the days in Imladris 'tis said, and much there was to occupy a young woman's mind and body and spirit. Lainiel spent long hours in Elrond's library, reading accounts of history, learning the lineages of the great houses of realms fallen and still standing, and increasing in her skills with pen and speech. In the Hall of Fire she heard many songs, both of Valinor and of the Hither Shores, and many of these she committed to memory though her own singing voice was rather thin.
Many friendships she made amongst the Elves of the Hidden Valley, and though some, such as the Lord Glorfindel, seemed a bit intimidating at first, she eventually lost her fear. The hero worship took a bit longer to o'ercome, yet the reincarnated Elda was fast in friendship with Helluin, with whom she'd long since become comfortable, and so she came to esteem him and value his friendship. Erestor too became a good friend, subtly teaching her to question wisely what she heard, to more critically seek proof of truth, and to more reliably hear what was unsaid.
As with any mortal, some things she found easier to learn and other things endlessly challenging. Hands long trained to the reins, the sword hilt, and the pen found unexpected difficulty with the fine crafts of needlepoint and embroidery. The playing of music upon harp, lute, and flute demanded many hours practice for mere acceptability, whilst her skills at cooking she deemed no more than sufficient. At the carving of wood or stone and the painting of figures she felt herself barely passable, though for lack of interest she spent rather less time on them. The forming of vessels upon a potter's wheel eluded her completely.
Day by day the weeks became months, and so too the months became years. 'Twas the afternoon of 8 Nórui, 1472 when she was called with urgency to the study of the Lord Elrond, and hastening thither, found most unexpectedly her foster brother, Rochen, who appeared troubled, and another Ranger of Cardolan, Celegon¹, whom she had known since childhood. ¹(Celegon, Agile One = celeg(agile) + -on(n on adj agent suff) Sindarin)
"Lainiel, thy brother has tidings for thee," Elrond said whilst gesturing her to a chair.
Rochen looked o'er and his first impression of his sister was writ upon his face. Ne'er had she appeared so radiant. He had seen her all the days of her youth, and now at twenty-four she was untouched by the years that had passed since she rode away at twenty-one. Indeed if anything, she appeared healthier, stronger, and happier.
"Rochen, 'tis good to see thee…" she began.
"Lainiel, 'tis father," he said, cutting her off in his haste. "Twenty days past now he was wounded whilst fighting a band of Hillmen in the Lone Lands. Rangers brought him home, but he ails and we fear he may not heal."
"Twenty days," she repeated to herself ere asking, "how is mother?"
"She hath taken his injury hard, and though she does what she can to comfort him, the healers have been unable to cure him of a creeping corruption in the wound. Now he burns with fever, and as she watches his life ebb, she loses hope."
"I must go to him," Lainiel said, the decision made by her heart in a moment. All she could think of was to reach their home in Cardolan ere he passed, and then, if need be, comfort their mother howe'er she could.
"Keep hope, Lainiel," the Peredhel said, "for from thy brother's report I deem thy father's cure still possible. Herbs I have ordered for his illness. The skill to apply them I know thou hast learnt, but thou shalt have company upon the road and long experience with the treating of battle wounds. Still, thou should leave soon and travel with haste."
"I shalt go at once," she said, "and thank you, Lord Elrond, for everything. I hope to see thee again one day."
An hour later she was on the road. Rochen and Celegon beside her, and behind them, Helluin and Beinvír. Hard they rode, and on the morn of their second day out from Imladris they were 'twixt the Trollshaws and The Angle, 'nigh halfway from the Ford of Bruinen to the Last Bridge o'er Mitheithel. Rounding a curve whither the road ran through a cutting they heard a war cry, whilst ahead the trunk of a beech fell 'cross their track. Then the woods to the north were filled with shouts and Men charging downhill to attack. The riders could but rein their horses to a halt and turn to face the assault.
No sure count of the enemy could they yet make amongst the trees, but the first to leap onto the road was pitched backwards by an arrow from the Green Elf's bow. Celegon the Ranger too had drawn his bow, whilst Rochen, Lainiel, and Helluin unsheathed their swords. Targets the archers found amongst the Hillmen charging onto the road, dropping another four ere they were surrounded and the battle turned to swordplay. Soon enough they were forced to dismount and fight afoot rather than be pulled down and mobbed.
"Ego, Fanuigól! Gwilo, Aenil!¹" Helluin shouted to the horses. ¹(Ego Fanuigól! Gwilo, Aenil! Go, Cloudy Cloak! Fly, Angel! = ego(go!) + fanui(cloudy) + gól(cloak) + gwilo-(v fly) + -o(imp v suff) + aenil(f. angel) Sindarin)
The mounts that Helluin and Beinvír had borrowed from Imladris turned and fled east, back down the road and out of the fighting. The three horses of Cardolan that Rochen and Celegon had brought followed a moment later.
A great advantage the Hillmen had in numbers, being two dozens at the start of their attack, but already five had fallen. After sending their horses away, the five riders managed to close ranks and form a circle, making it harder for any to be taken from behind, and limiting the 'front' their enemies could assail. The Hillmen thought this meant that they had their victims at bay and attrition would deliver them to victory, but they had no archers amongst them and their advantage was far less than they believed. Even Rochen, the weakest with a sword, had trained as a Ranger since childhood and took down the first Hillman to die on a blade, stabbing him in the throat with his dagger after deflecting the Man's axe with his sword. Celegon too drew blood, parrying away his first attacker's sword and using a draw cut to slice him from shoulder to elbow.
Facing north to meet the front of the attack Helluin had placed herself, Anguirél in one hand, her dagger in the other. Beinvír wielding her two long fighting knives stood facing west with Lainiel in the protected position 'twixt them. Rochen and Celegon stood at their backs facing south and east. Literally thousands of years experience told the ellith to await their attackers rather than break formation to advance. As each foe fell, another would take his place to come against their defense, and one by one these too fell. For Helluin and Beinvír there was little of dueling, for amongst the Hillmen there were no gifted warriors. The two ellith merely awaited that moment when their enemy raised his weapon, a movement both necessary, and to them easily anticipated, and on his backswing they impaled him, or hewed his neck.
"Blood, more blood I crave," the Black Sword gleefully cried as Helluin swung her.
"I too crave anointment in blood," declared the Sarchram. "Pray free me to fly, O Helluin."
After driving a Man back with a wide slash of her sword, Helluin sheathed her dagger and drew the mithril Ring from the clip at her waist, then cast the Grave Wing into the press of the enemy. Greedily did it fly, striking four Men and taking two lives ere it returned to her hand. Beside her, Lainiel drove her grandfather's blade into the chest of a Man who had come against her with a heavy, studded club. Then they heard a horn calling from south of the road, and to their astonishment, three Men in the uniforms of soldiers of Rhudaur, soiled and shabby with age, charged down the slope to the road with swords drawn. They took the eastern flank two fathoms from the five riders and engaged the Hillmen.
'Twas now eight against the remaining dozen attackers, and seeing the odds no longer decisively in their favor, the Hillmen broke off their assault and fled west down the road ere they turned upslope into the woods of the Trollshaws, leaving their dead behind. Then for a moment the two groups took each other's measure whilst catching their breath.
"Well met, good soldier of Rhudaur," Helluin said to the Man closest to them, whom she saw bore a horn, "we thank thee for thy aid."
"Well met indeed," he said, eyeing the litter of fallen bodies, "and we thank ye for taking such a toll of the brigands who prey upon the travelers of our road. We heard the fighting and thought to save a party under attack…t'would seem we have but saved a few Hillmen from slaughter." Here he offered a wry grin which Helluin returned.
"A foe fled is still a foe defeated," she said.
"A foe fled leaves blood for the morrow," Anguirél carped. "Still, I thank thee for my breakfast."
"Alas, a brief taste only, yet I too thank thee, O Helluin," the Sarchram said.
"Welcome art ye to shed the blood of foes," Helluin replied as she sheathed Anguirél and set the Sarchram upon her clip, "I thank ye both, O my allies of the Ages."
Hearing this exchange, the soldiers fell silent in awe. Though they'd had rare contact with other Elves, little did they know of the enchantments of the Noldor, and weapons that spoke of slaughter were wholly strange to them.
"Thou wear the uniforms of the Realm of Rhudaur, yet I knew not that any still served after that realm's fall in 1356," Helluin said. "Have the Dúnedain again claimed lordship o'er these lands following the defeat of Angmar?"
"Nay, no lord of the Dúnedain has ruled in Rhudaur since the last lord's fall," answered the soldier who bore the horn. He was tall and powerfully built, dark of hair and eye, and tanned of skin, as were his comrades. "We who now contest our homeland have dwelt hither through many generations, yet we art not Men of the West. We were Men of Eriador first, and we shalt be so to the last. I am Leginbór¹, and my friends art Cánégin² and Rachdan³." ¹(Leginbór, Swift Fist = legin(swift) + paur(fist) The diphthong –au is simplified to –ó in proper nouns. Sindarin) ²(Cánégin, Ten Thorns = caen(ten) + ég(thorn) + -in(pl n suff, thorns) The diphthong–ae simplifies to –á in proper nouns. Sindarin) ³(Rachdan, Cart Wright = rach(cart) + tán(wright) The –t at the partition in proper nouns transforms to –d(see formation of Círdan) Sindarin)
And Cánégin said to Celegon and Rochen, "ye art Rangers of Cardolan and we esteem what your folk have done following the war with Angmar. Would that we could learn your ways to do the same for ourselves and our lands."
"To my lord I shalt speak of this," Rochen answered, "for lands reclaimed by Men of noble character art much more welcome neighbors than lands ruled by the servants of Carn Dûm."
Now all had more questions for each other, and whilst they worked together to clear the fallen tree from the road, many things were asked and many answer offered. The bodies of the fallen Hillmen the soldiers laid together in a row aside the road. Yet still Lainiel had need of haste, and when the track was again clear, Helluin whistled for the horses and soon they were ready again to ride.
"Our lord lies wounded and we must ride, yet already thou hast spoken to his heir," Celegon told Leginbór, "and knowing now of thy struggle, we shalt find thee and meet with thee again."
"Word shalt be spread amongst our Rangers that Men still fight for the freedom of Rhudaur," Rochen told them ere they took their leave.
The three soldiers watched them ride away, but new hope they had and many tidings to tell their lord. The unexpected possibility of an alliance with Cardolan they could report to their captain, and they would ask of their loremaster after tales of an Elf with weapons that spoke.
Upon 19 Nórui the riders arrived home, and whilst their mounts were committed to the care of the grooms, they made their way to the manor. Rochen and Lainiel came to their father's sickbed whither the Lady Eilianu waited, and they were shocked by his weakened state. Deathly pale the Lord Húngan was, and barely could he open his eyes. His voice in greeting was barely above a whisper 'twixt shallow and labored breaths.
"Glad am I to see thee again ere my spirit flees this world, daughter," he said, "for now I can be at peace. A full life I have lived, 155 years. Much of good and evil have I seen, yet my days can end surrounded by those I love, and so I have no complaints."
"Father, for thee I still have hope. Much I have learnt of healing in Imladris, and the Lord Elrond has sent herbs for thee," Lainiel told him.
Beside her, her mother said, "whatsoe'er thou can do, thou must try."
'Cross the bed, Helluin had laid her hand upon her ailing friend's brow, and thither she remained for many moments in deep concentration. Finally she looked up and nodded to Lainiel, saying, "whilst thou hast hope 'tis still a chance. I too bid thee try and I shalt aid thee as I can."
Now Lainiel called for a bowl of steaming water, and into this she crumbled the herbs, allowing them to steep ere she soaked a clean towel with the medicine and laved her father's brow. She did the same to the wound upon his side, noting its swelling and redness, and the heat that she could feel in his skin.
A bit of improvement all marked, for the Lord Húngan seemed to breath more easily.
"Treat him again in three hours, Lainiel," Helluin told her after again laying her hand upon the lord's brow whilst measuring his vitality.
After three more treatments during the night, the morn of 20 Nórui found Húngan sitting up and sipping a broth of chickens. He was alert for a couple hours at a stretch, and though still very weak from the ordeal, his fever had broken. More encouraging, Lainiel found the redness and swelling of his wound much reduced. The healer sent by King Araphor to his loyal vassal's aid was astonished.
"Festering was this wound yestermorn and the lord passing from the poison in his blood," the healer said. "Allium, coneflower, and oil of oregano I have given for the corruption; meadowsweet and yarrow for the fever, yet 'naught has been so effective as whatsoe'er thou hast done. Pray tell what compounding has wrought so swift a recovery, for many lives could be thus redeemed from jeopardy."
"Other than mentha, I am not sure. The medicine was compounded by a master of healing in Imladris," Lainiel told him, for Elrond had provided her the herbs.
Helluin chuckled; the scent had immediately given the Peredhel's preparation away.
"'Neath the masking odor of mint, 'tis 'naught but athelas dried and crumbled, from the garden of Elrond in the Hidden Valley, yet were it to come from the woods a furlong east, its virtue would be the same," she said.
"Athelas? 'Tis not an herb of healing," the healer said with certainty.
Beside him, Lainiel's face registered similar shock. "'Twas a test then?"
"Aye, and though aforetime suspected, this we had to know for sure," the Noldo replied, and then to the healer, "long hath it been known that but few may use the healing virtue of athelas."
"Then thou art a princess of the Dúnedain? From the South Kingdom perhaps?" The healer asked after recalling the legend regarding the plant, "for e'er the king is first healer of the realm, 'tis said, and I know of no daughter of Araphor's house."
"Her line is akin to the royal house of Númenor," Helluin said, "and of this we art now certain beyond doubt. Her relation to King Araphor is more complex."
The Man nodded. His skill lay in healing, not in lore, and so he could not gainsay what he had heard, nor refute what he had seen. Yet to him such tidings paled before the result; beyond hope his patient was recovering.
"Whatsoe'er thy ancestry young lady, thou hast saved Lord Húngan and thou hast my heartfelt thanks," he said to Lainiel ere he bowed to her and withdrew.
Later that afternoon Lainiel sat in the stable, for the presence of the horses had e'er been a balm when her heart was troubled, and now, when many would have been alight with triumph, true to her nature she was o'ercome with feelings of thanksgiving.
By the grace of the One and the Lords in the West it hath come to me to save he who gave me a life, a family, and a loving home when I had 'naught in this world. If I do nothing else, e'er shalt I be thankful for this.
To her lips she raised the locket with the bands of marriage that had come from her blood kin, and she gently kissed them.
Though I knew thee not, I can ne'er love thee enough. My life thou gave me, and my life thou saved, even in the last moments of thine own. Thy love and thy lesson I shalt ne'er forget.
Far in the West her words were heard, for having been named in thanks by a true heart, the Elder King could not but harken. And He recognized this child of the One and deemed a debt was being repaid in earnest, and so He resolved to watch o'er her that her destiny be fulfilled and the Song restored.
"And perhaps less short too shalt Thou be upon Thy next meeting with Our forebrother," the Lady chided as She smiled upon Him.
"'Tis true, that prankster has done well," He conceded with a smile, "though His well-earned comeuppance He needs once an Age or so."
Her laughter was as a twinkling of stars.
"He is but the Song of one voice alone. Come, let Us watch the tale unfold," She said to Him as She took His hand.
The Lord Húngan continued to recover, and by 30 Nórui he was walking again without a cane. Ere that, Rochen had reported to him on the soldiers of Rhudaur he had met and their desire to learn the ways of the Rangers in hopes of reclaiming their lands. Húngan had called a council of Ranger captains, including his old comrades-in-arms, Dorondon, Angadan, Thansál, and Drammor. Also attending that council were the Lady Eilianu, Helluin, Beinvír, Rochen, Celegon, and Lainiel, who told of being attacked upon the road.
"Those whom ye met claimed to be Men of Eriador, but not Dúnedain?" Angadan asked.
"Aye, just so," Helluin said, "and they were much like the Hillmen in build; a bit shorter, but stockier, and darker complected than Dúnedain. I deem they have the same origins as the Hillmen, but also the Men of Bree and many loyal subjects of Arnor already living in Eriador ere Elendil arrived. Perhaps they come of the same Eastern stock as Bór, a loyal vassal of Maedhros and Maglor."
"In any case, they art the enemies of the Hillmen who allied themselves with Angmar," Beinvír added, "and they came to our aid with noble intent."
"Rhudaur fell 'nigh six score years past, and yet they wore the uniforms of soldiers of Rhudaur?" Drammor asked.
"So they did, but those uniforms were aged," Rochen said, "and I wager they art heirlooms of Rhudaur, passed father to son, to be darned and worn with pride in their struggle."
"Strange it seems that they would wear the uniforms of a Dúnedain kingdom, when they art not themselves Dúnedain," Thansál mused.
"Rhudaur stood for many generations of Men, and Arnor ere that. Perhaps 'tis all they know of better times ere the coming of Angmar and the fall of their kingdom," Lainiel said, "for 'twas their kingdom too."
"So too do the Men of Bree feel for Arthedain and their king, Araphor," Húngan said.
"Then shalt we not aid them, father?" Rochen asked. "They seek to reclaim their lands as did we aforetime. Perhaps they shalt become our allies and one day even return their allegiance to the Kings of Arthedain."
"'Twas training they sought and not a fighting force to take the field with them," Celegon said.
"Whether or not these Men of Rhudaur become allies, they art no friends of the Enemy. Aiding them in defeating the Hillmen would bolster our own security," Lainiel said, and all recalled the tragedy that had brought her to them. "My heart bids me succor them."
The Lord Húngan looked 'round the circle of his friends and saw them nodding in agreement despite their history of rivalry with Rhudaur aforetime. Yet as Regent of Cardolan he had another requirement ere he acted.
"I find that I too favor aiding these Men of Rhudaur with training in the ways of a Ranger, yet I have the duty of first presenting this plan to King Araphor, for we art a holding 'neath the crown of the Heir of Isildur and not a realm independent," he said.
Those about him nodded again, understanding his position, yet t'would cause delay, months perhaps, or even years. The soldiers of Rhudaur could think themselves forsaken.
"An alternative I might present," said Beinvír. "Neither Helluin, nor I art thy subjects, nor subject to the Crown of Arthedain, and so we may act upon our own wisdom to aid those that oppose the allies of Angmar. 'Twas so when we taught ye aforetime."
The five older Men remembered their tutelage 'neath the Green Elf, of whose people had come all they had learnt. No better teacher could the soldiers of Rhudaur hope to find.
"One consideration only have we," Helluin said. "We art charged with the protection of the Lady Lainiel, and she is thy kin and thy subject, Lord Húngan."
For some moments the Lord Húngan thought upon their conflicting courses. He could not, in good conscience, give his daughter leave to do what he could not ere informing his king, and he was loath to have his daughter roaming the lands of Rhudaur whither they had already been attacked. And yet he knew Helluin and Beinvír; no stauncher protectors could he imagine than warriors who had survived through all the wars of three Ages.
"Were I to give my daughter leave to return to Imladris in thy company, I would feel her safer than in the company of an army," he said, "and should ye meet again some Men of Rhudaur, I deem t'would be to achieve your part in the Song."
'Twas decided then that upon the morrow, 1 Cerveth, (July 1st), 1472, the Lord Húngan's party would ride for Fornost whilst Helluin, Beinvír, and Lainiel would ride east upon the road to Imladris, seeking for the soldiers of Rhudaur.
When they took their leave just after dawn, Lainiel brought her bow and quiver and wore the hooded cloak of a Cardolan Ranger. Rather than crossing the Lone Lands diagonally northeast to the Last Bridge as they had done aforetime, they rode due north, thereby halving their distance 'cross open country. They made the road at dusk and camped a furlong south of its track, then continued their ride in haste on the morn of the 2nd. Mitheithel they reached in the early afternoon of the 3rd. Thither the road followed a downslope to the river, crossing the Last Bridge upon its three arched spans into the lands of Rhudaur, and there they slowed their pace.
Now woods replaced the more open country and the land began to rise amidst steeply forested slopes. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of o'erhanging branches, dappling the road with shadows. About them the songs of birds and the scolding of squirrels they heard, yet 'twas a watchfulness to that land and they felt the familiar sounds of nature but thinly veneered o'er something darker. So they rode on, vigilant, with their eyes scanning the lands upon both sides of the road. By nightfall they had seen 'naught, yet after a day feeling the foreboding of trouble, they sat watch o'er their camp in turns and lit only a small trench fire to cook with, extinguishing it after. All were thankful for the short dark of high summer.
Their ride continued upon 4 Cerveth, and 'round noon they reached that place whereat they had been assailed aforetime. The trunk of the fallen beech remained at the roadside, but the bodies of the Hillmen were gone. Thither they stopped and dismounted, and Helluin plucked a long leaf of grass, pressing it 'twixt the edges of her thumbs and then, cupping both hands together, set them to her mouth and blew a shrill whistle which echoed amidst the surrounding slopes. O'er the span of a quarter-hour she repeated that call thrice whilst they waited with anticipation, yet finally they heard a reply; a familiar horn echoed from the southeast ere six soldiers of Rhudaur broke cover and walked onto the road. Amongst them were two of the three they had met aforetime.
"Well met, Helluin, Beinvír, and Lainiel," Leginbór said, "'tis good to see ye again."
"'Tis good to see thee and Rachdan again," Helluin said. "Cánégin I see not amongst thy company this day. Is he well?"
"Aye," the horn-carrying soldier said, "but he is off duty the first week this month."
"We had hoped to meet ye again hither," Beinvír said, "despite not arranging a day or a time. We had "naught but a place."
"Since we saw thee last, we have kept watch in hope of your return," Rachdan said. "Has your lord recovered? Has he reached a decision about our training?"
"Indeed our lord Húngan has recovered," Lainiel said, "but ere he commit Rangers to train ye he must ask leave of our king. Thus he rode to Fornost in Arthedain the same day we set out, but we reckon we shan't hear word from him for several weeks at least."
Though disappointed, the soldiers nodded in understanding. Well 'nigh everyone had responsibilities to a lord o'er them and to subjects 'neath them. A person's standing in a society merely dictated the ratio of one to the other, and right conduct regardless of a person's station demanded their acknowledgement of their responsibilities to others.
"Your training need not wait," Beinvír told them, "for Helluin and I art not subjects of Cardolan, whilst Lainiel travels to Imladris 'neath our protection, whither we too shalt go…eventually."
The soldiers were o'erjoyed to hear this, especially Leginbór, who had spent much time with his lord's loremaster o'er the past three weeks, learning 'aught of the two Elves and the Rangers of Cardolan.
"'Tis just such news as we had hoped to hear," Leginbór said, "and ye have our thanks. We should leave the road. Allow us to guide ye hence, to our lord and village. 'Tis but a day and half's walk, for we hold most of the lands others call The Angle."
"Lead on then, my friend," Helluin said, taking the reins of her horse, Fanuigól.
To be Continued