In An Age Before – Part 141
Chapter Ninety-five
Lore Comes to Life – The Third Age of the Sun
An hour later, gathered upon the far side of the southern ridge, the companies finally relaxed for a short time, mingling to share the tales of their victory. Ecstatic were the Naugrim with the night's events and the Rangers did them honor, for none had fought beside a company of such warriors aforetime, sprung to life before their eyes from ancient lore it seemed; known to memory, yet unknown for many lives of Men.
"Greatly heartened art we to campaign with thy company, Captain Belain," Dorondon said as he bowed to the Dwarf. "It does our hearts good to see ye victorious, folk of our legends and friends of our fathers."
The Captain of the Naugrim returned the bow of the Ranger captain, saying, "'tis good to meet our allies of old upon the field again, and to know that friends from afar fight the same foes and stand with us for the common good."
As he spoke, his eyes strayed to Helluin, Beinvír, and the Green Elves, who for this time allowed all to see them.
Cánégin, Captain of the Rhudaur Rangers, marked this and out of curiosity asked, "how fared thee in the battle of the tunnels?"
Belain's face displayed unrestrained joy as he recalled the fighting.
"'Twas a glorious battle; our enemy was utterly worsted whilst we lost only two. For all my days shalt I hold dear the hours just past," he said, and the Men could hear the wonder in his voice. "If I ne'er again hew the neck of an Orch, I shalt be content to have fought beside the Mórgolodh." Then more seriously he continued, "thou must understand that just as we seem risen from thy lore, so too is she for us, who came first to our mansions in the earliest years of the Second Age so long ago. None not born Khazâd know us so well, nor have honored us so consistently. In war and in peace she hath been our friend, and I deem that no greater warrior now walks this Middle Earth, for no other amongst the living has invaded the Dark Tower and matched arms with Sauron Gorthaur."
The mention of that evil name brought mixed feelings to the Men of the West and the Men of Eriador alike. Lore told that it had been almost 1,500 years since the Dark Lord had been vanquished, yet still his rumor was one of terror. Though 'twas known that he commanded the Nazgûl, and the Witch King of Angmar served him as thrall, still he was not truly a part of their world. To have faced him in combat and survived was well 'nigh inconceivable. One only they knew of who had done so; King Isildur, a true son of Númenor, but he had fallen long, long ago and was now so far removed from their experience as to be a mythical figure.
Now whilst the Rangers mingled with the Dwarves, Helluin, Beinvír, and Lainiel took counsel with the Laiquendi, and far into the night, even as they marched south from the valley of the Hillmen, they continued to speak, for 'twas much to be said.
"We have heard that the House of Balan has been renewed, for the second time, t'would seem," Gwilolrán said, "and with thy benefactor we have some prior history."
"Iarwain Ben-adar thou mean? I recall him not for I was but a babe," Lainiel said. "Of the return of Balar, son of Balan I have heard from my guardians. What became of him, pray tell?"
"Ahhh…that is quite a story," the Lieutenant of the Green Elves said, "for he was returned along with a Dwarf of Nogrod and our king, who had been missing for o'er 1,700 years."
Lainiel looked at him in amazement. Helluin and Beinvír regarded him with mixed memories; joy at the freeing of Dálindir, Gérorn, and Celegaras, and annoyance with the Man and the Dwarf.
"I had heard that Balar became King of the Men of Eriador after his return in the Second Age," Lainiel finally said, "but what befell him after I know not."
Gwilolrán nodded, understanding that her guardians knew 'naught of what had come to pass. Though involved in Balar's return from Iarwain's enchanted house, Helluin and Beinvír had been called away during the early days of his reign, first to repatriate the Dwarf, Ishkabibúl, to his people in Khazad-dûm, and after, by the effects of the Fall of Númenor and the founding of the Dúnedain Realms in Exile. In their absence, the years had passed in Eriador.
"In the days ere the founding of their kingdoms upon the Hither Shores by the Men of fallen Westernesse, the Men of Eriador and the Úmanyar coexisted in peace, sharing the land according to the habits of their kinds, in league of friendship. The Men of Eriador had chosen their king, but no great kingdom sprang up for him to govern. Rather, the existing system of local life in hamlets, farmsteads, or villages, and the affiliations of family and tribe prevailed, so that the day-to-day power still lay with the chieftains. There was simply no cause to force a greater union, and no settlements so large as to rival the cities later founded by the Men of the West. Balar and his descendants ruled in name more than in fact, esteemed for their lineage more than their wealth or o'erreaching power. Indeed, the 'Kingdom of Eriador' was much like that of the Laiquendi; politically incohesive and geographically invisible," Gwilolrán began.
"King Balar ruled for sixty-three years," he told them, "and his son Baran, whom he named for his brother, ruled after him fifty-one years. Five lords followed Baran ere the Whelming of Númenor, the coming of the Dúnedain, and the rise of Arnor. That came to pass during the reign of Bolger, the seventh king, and just as we ne'er opposed the founding of Lindon by the remnant of the Noldor of Beleriand at the beginning of the Second Age, so too the Men of Eriador contested not the founding of the North Kingdom. The Kingdom of Eriador was simply subsumed by the greater might of the Men of the West, and their lords continued in obscurity, their borders o'erlain by those of Arnor. Eventually the lineage of Balar was forgotten amidst the deeds that followed, 'til its regality was no longer recalled even by those who inherited it. So 'tis to this day, through many lives of Men and many wars, and many, many years."
'Twas hardly a tale of majesty or glory. Balar had returned to mortal life in Middle Earth and been crowned king, a miracle indeed, and then he and his descendants had faded into obscurity. Lineage without office. And yet survival too was a virtue.
"So the lineage of Balar persists in Eriador even to this day?" Lainiel asked hopefully.
"I believe it does," the Lieutenant of the Green Elves said, "long bereft of lordship, but in unbroken line, father to son, even as the lineage of Eärendil continues in Arthedain."
Helluin and Beinvír had listened with increasing astonishment to all Gwilolrán said. In o'er 1,900 years, no prior tidings of these things had come to their ears, and as with the ongoing war against the remnants of Angmar, they had been wholly ignorant. And it had all been going on 'neath their very noses in the lands they thought of as home.
"Meldir nín, whyfor have we heard 'naught of these affairs aforetime?"Beinvír asked Gwilolrán.
"For long 'twas little to report," he replied, "and compared with thy actions beyond Eriador, 'twas of little import. Indeed we had little involvement, for 'naught called us to act, and e'er have we our own affairs to attend to; the security of Eriador during the War of the Last Alliance, the safeguarding of the Periannath, the protection of Imladris, the opposition of Angmar, and the removal of its remnants after. We deemed thy path was most oft directed elsewhere upon other concerns, or so it hath long seemed to us."
Beinvír and Helluin could but nod in agreement with the Green Elf's explanation. Amongst the Laiquendi 'twas seldom that one asked an accounting of another's actions if 'twas not freely offered. His willingness to answer had demonstrated his friendship and respect. Neither felt they could ask more.
Still it left Beinvír with a pang of sadness, for though she knew 'twas not the case, she couldn't help but feel distanced from her people. Her path had begun to diverge from theirs the day she'd met Helluin, for their path together had drawn her increasingly beyond the lands of Eriador and the affairs of the Green Elves, of whom not a one had set foot o'er the Hithaeglir. She knew they would ne'er in their wildest fancy even consider walking 'neath those mountains, and yet she had done so long ago and found friends thither. She realized only now that she hadn't been the least bit surprised to have found the Green Elves allied with the Naugrim, whereas when she'd first met them, she'd feared and mistrusted them as an ingrained aspect of her culture. At one time she'd actually half-suspected that they would have roasted and eaten her. The memory of this brought forth a burst of laughter which startled the others, and they looked to her in question.
In answer, she took Helluin's hands in her own, and looking deeply into her eyes said, "meles nín¹, truly thou hast given me the world." ¹(meles nín, my beloved = melo-(love, v) + -es(f obj suff, n on v, f loved one, f beloved) + nín(1st pers poss pro, my) Sindarin)
And Helluin, still holding her gaze, raised the Green Elf's left hand to her lips and softly kissed the ring of mithril and gold upon her third finger, saying silently, meles nín, noch Ambar nín¹. ¹(meles nín, noch Ambar nín, my beloved, thou art my world Sindarin)
They continued walking, and when it seemed her teachers would ask no more, Lainiel resolved to learn what she could whilst in the company of Gwilolrán and the Green Elves.
"I reckon by now there art many in Eriador who descend from Balar," she said, "but art there none who claim the lordship of his house?"
"Aye, so far as we know Balar's descendants art many, but none now claim a title, or even kinship with that line save thou alone," Gwilolrán replied.
"And yet there art those who could make such a claim, even if they know it not and cannot trace their lineage beyond a doubt," she said.
"As I said aforetime, many years have passed and much has been lost since the days of Balar and the Kings of Eriador. The lore that Men once knew as history has passed into legend, and the names of the king's line with it."
He shook his head, saddened that her people had forgotten their history and that the knowledge of such an ancient line had been lost. The memory of the Eldar made such seem all the more regrettable, for they forgot 'naught. Finally he continued, finishing the tale as he knew it.
"The name of the last king known to me was Tuidir, who lived during the early years of the reign of Valandil, son of Isildur. By then the Men of Eriador had spread to populate lands emptied by the losses amongst the Dúnedain in the War of the Last Alliance, and the title of king had become as empty as its office. Tuidir 'ruled' from a family holding of thirty acres 'nigh Bruinen. His palace was a farmhouse, and there was no royal court save the farm hands and the beasts in his paddocks. The closest neighboring farm lay three leagues west; hardly the capital city of a mighty realm.
Tuidir's son and heir moved south to marry into a wealthier family and made no mention of his lineage. 'Twas the last I know of the Kings of Eriador."
Lainiel nodded her thanks to the Green Elf, underwhelming as his information was. It seemed that Balar had been liberated from eternal captivity in the home of Iarwain Ben-adar, only to ascend to a figurehead kingship whose line had faded into obscurity. And yet she had distant kin, though neither she nor they knew their identities. She had crossed time to become the lady of an empty house, much like her great-grandmother, Dúrrél.
Walking unmarked behind them, the Lord Galor made a note of their words, and the name of Tuidir he committed to memory along with all the others he had heard.
The morn of 25 Narbeleth, (October 25th), dawned 'neath dreary skies as the company came to the stream at the bottom of the second valley north of the road, and thither they called a halt. Following the battle, they had marched through the night, putting some distance 'twixt themselves and the Hillmen who would soon discover the carnage. Though the Green Elves would have continued on, the Rangers and the Naugrim were dog tired, having fought and marched a full day and night without rest. Some stared vacantly off into space and no few yawned. Even Lainiel appeared somewhat dull to her guardians.
Helluin and Beinvír took counsel with Belain, Gwilolrán, Dorondon, and Cánégin to determine their course.
"Tired art my Men and I myself not the least," Cánégin admitted. "Trained as Rangers we may now be, but I deem a measure of hardihood we have yet to gain."
"I too feel fatigue," Dorondon said, "though if required, my Rangers shalt persevere."
Belain, loath to admit anything, still looked to his mortal comrades with thanks.
"We crave to celebrate our victory with feasting in our halls, and we must lay to rest our fallen, yet a short stay of our march would not be unwelcome, my friends," he said.
The Elves felt little fatigue and would have continued marching 'til well away from the battle, but deferred to their mortal allies in this.
"If we can move but to the eastern end of the valley, well away from the track 'nigh the stream, my company shalt stand watch whilst our friends take some food and rest," Gwilolrán offered. "I believe we shalt not be pursued so soon, if at all, this day. Though they thirst for vengeance, the Hillmen shalt take time to consider the slaughter of the Yrch ere they seek for foes."
Beinvír nodded in agreement and Helluin said, "though I would prefer to reach the next ridge top, I too see no need for immediately continuing and I accept thy counsel, meldir nín."
'Twas decided that they would cross the stream and march another third of an hour to reach the eastern end of the valley. Thither they would set a camp for some six hours, figuring to break their fast and reserve five hours for sleep ere they continued south around noon. This news was greeted thankfully by the Men and Dwarves.
Upon reaching their chosen camp, the Green Elves took a moment to consume some waybread ere spreading out to secure a cordon of watch. The Men and Dwarves cast themselves down in spots concealed by trees or boulders, and many dozed off ere they even partook of their rations. Helluin and Beinvír reclined next to Lainiel and spoke softly 'twixt themselves as she slept.
"T'would seem that much has come to pass, and we knew 'naught of it," the Noldo said, shaking her head in resignation.
"'Tis not possible for us to know all, meleth nín," Beinvír replied. "Oft has our path taken us long and far afield. Mortal kings lived and died 'twixt one stay and our next in this land. At least my people have watched o'er Eriador in our absence."
"Aye, and I am thankful that they have," Helluin agreed, "yet still, to have missed the entire rise and fall of a whole kingdom of Men amazes me."
The Green Elf chuckled softly ere saying, "it rose neither high, nor fell so far, t'would seem, and how long had we roamed Rhovanion ere discovering the Periannath?"
"Surely they rose not from their own fields in this Age, and had been o'erlooked by all since their creation. I wonder whither and whence the One brought them forth," Helluin mused.
"Considering what we have learnt of their lore aforetime, I doubt even they remember," Beinvír said.
This brought a grin to Helluin's lips, recalling Bobo Fallohide, the mayor of Fur'long hamlet and the first Perian she had e'er met. He had believed the world ended with the Hithaeglir, and to the west lay 'naught but a wasteland burnt by the sun.
"Thou know who shalt find the greatest interest in Gwilolrán's tidings," Helluin said.
"T'would be he who finds great interest in all such tidings," Beinvír said, "and he shalt learn this lore when we again take Lainiel thither."
Thereafter they lapsed into silence, resting their minds upon memories of Balar, Bobo, and the Lord of Imladris, whilst o'erhead the cloud cover slowly began to break up.
Just ere the noon hour, Gwilolrán came to them saying, "all remains quiet and there is no sign of pursuit. Still, we should be away shortly if we intend to come to the road ere nightfall."
Helluin nodded in agreement and went to bring word to the Naugrim. Beinvír woke Lainiel and they prompted Dorondon and Cánégin to rouse the Rangers. In a quarter-hour the companies were again marching south.
During the afternoon of the 25th they continued through the next two valleys 'neath clearing skies. 'Twixt having rested and their eagerness for home they made good time, and as evening drew down they reached the road, 'nigh a mile east of where they had ambushed the Hillmen aforetime. There they spoke a while, saying their farewells in friendship.
"'Twas good to see ye both again," Gwilolrán said to Beinvír and Helluin, "and to have your aid in battle. Glad too art we to see the training of Rangers in Rhudaur. 'Tis meet that the Men of Eriador should labor in the cleansing of their lands, for their claim is akin to our own. Be well then, 'til we meet again, mildis nín."
"We too art glad to have had thy company, meldir nín, and we art thankful for all thy tidings," Beinvír said. "Safe journeys 'til next we meet."
"Pray give our regards to our friends should thou meet them ere we do," Helluin said, thinking foremost of Dálindir, Tórferedir, Gérorn, and Celegaras. "We thank thee for everything, meldir nín."
"If any of thy folk have need, they shalt be welcomed in Celenhár," Lord Galor said to the Green Elf, "and thou hast our thanks as well. Though the years have passed and our kindreds have grown apart, our lore still recalls the past friendship 'twixt our peoples and we welcome its renewal."
"As do we, Lord Galor, for that league of friendship arose with my peoples return from Beleriand at the end of the First Age. Long it hath been indeed, meldir nín. I wish thee well 'til our next meeting."
"Quite a boon this sojourn in the lowlands has been," Belain said, "and I wouldn't have missed it for a troll's weight in gold. My heart is light this eve, for the renewal of so many friendships atop such a victory shalt be sung in our halls for many years. Send word if any of ye has need of us again."
The companies parted ways upon the road, each to their homes, whilst Eärendil shone o'erhead as it were a blessing, visible in a clear night sky for the first time in several days. West went the Green Elves into Eriador, invisible as soon as they left the road. Southeast went the Naugrim, to cross the Bruinen and make their way through Eregion to the Sirannon and Hollin Gate. Helluin and Beinvír, with Lainiel and the Rangers walked south into the woods, quickly finding a path that led to the cart track and Celenhár.
Now upon 27 Narbeleth of 1472 the companies returned safely to Celenhár, and great was the rejoicing amongst the people when their tale was told. A victory had been won and a strong blow had been struck against their foes, but more profound was the confirmation that they were not alone in their fight. True joy was felt by the villagers who filled the town hall on the night of the 28th as the Lord Galor addressed a full throng.
"Great tidings have we to share, if indeed any have not already heard them," he said with a smile.
Laughter followed, for most present already knew the results of the Rangers last mission north. Standing upon the dais, Lord Galor waited for their mirth to die down ere continuing.
"But four days past, Rangers of Rhudaur and Cardolan, together with our guests, Helluin, Beinvír, and the Lady Lainiel, defeated a Hillmen ambush just north of the Road. We then backtracked those foes to their village several valleys to the north. Thither the Rangers entered and reconnoitered the settlement ere withdrawing to join in a mission against Yrch of Angmar, found unexpected in the same valley. Together with companies of the Laiquendi of Eriador and the Naugrim of Khazad-dûm, these foes were embattled in their den and utterly worsted."
Here the crowd erupted with cheering, the stamping of feet, and the clapping of hands. It went on for some time, accompanied by many mugs raised in salute and drained with gusto. The Lord Galor was forced to wait much longer this time ere resuming his announcement.
"'Twas for us a great victory against fearsome and unfamiliar foes known aforetime only from dark lore, whilst for our allies, 'twas the successful continuation of a campaign long engaged. Yet the greater tidings art indeed of these allies. The fight but lately taken up by the Rangers of Celenhár against the Hillmen once allied with Angmar has been the concern of the Laiquendi since their deliverance of Imladris in 1356. Of the Naugrim, their war against the Yrch is from Age to Age.
In truth I know not how oft, nor for how long these two kindreds have allied themselves in actions against the common enemy, but I do know that they art of one mind in their enmity for this evil kind, and that the Laiquendi art determined to rid all Eriador of the servants of the Witch King. Through our mission we have rekindled friendships of old and found that we art not alone in our fight."
The cheering that followed was long and slow to diminish, and by the time it did, the Lord Galor had left the dais to mingle with the crowd. Thither, he and the captains Cánégin, Leginbór, and Rachdan were hoisted atop willing shoulders and paraded through the crowd with much praise.
Now as the festivities continued, Helluin and Beinvír marked that the Lord Galor and the Lady Lainiel spent much time together in conversation, sharing drinks and laughter. When a circle of dancers formed to promenade the room, 'twas the lord and lady who partnered with vigorous steps. The two ellith spoke of it together, silently, eye to eye.
T'would seem the only lord and lady amongst us have gravitated to keeping noble company, the Green Elf said with a smile.
Aye, 'tis so indeed, Helluin replied with a nod of agreement, and I find this scene reminiscent of one far to the east, many years past.
For some moments Beinvír sought for a similar scene in her memories.
Ërlick and Brekka, the Green Elf finally said. The captain and the serving wench,who in truth had been the lady of her house. The couple had become king and queen of the horsemen of Rhovanion. Think thou that more shalt come of it?
T'would surprise me little, and perhaps t'would not be so bad a turn. Galor is a good Man and I deem Lainiel could do far worse. As the days pass, I suppose we shalt see what is to be.
The Green Elf nodded, wondering if a courtship would proceed, or whether t'would be delayed through excess of introspection, as had happened with Elrond and Celebrían, Amroth and Nimrodel, and Thranduil and Inthuiril. And what of those last?
Think thou that Thranduil and Inthuiril art wed? 470 years it hath been since last we shared company with the folk of Greenwood.
The Noldo grimaced. Visiting Thranduil's realm was not atop her list of destinations.
I know not, meleth nín, being able to imagine with ease the answer equally yay or nay. Perhaps we shalt discover the truth when next a wraith inhabits Dol Guldur.
Celenhár's celebration went on well into the night ere the villagers staggered from the hall in the early hours of the 29th.
During the following months of winter, as 1472 turned to 1473, the Rangers of Rhudaur continued in their training 'neath the tutelage of Helluin, Beinvír, and Lainiel, with the aid of the Cardolan Rangers. The cold months of Hithui, Girithron, Narwain, and Nínui, (November, December, January, and February), passed as they learnt to survive and find sustenance in a landscape chilled by winter snow. On a few occasions, Helluin or Beinvír would mark subtle signs left to let them know that the village was guarded, but of the Green Elves themselves, even they saw 'naught.
The long nights of winter provided time for much else besides training though, and amongst the activities undertaken was a personal examination of the history and lore contained in the upper story of the town hall. The aging loremaster of Celenhár encouraged and aided his lord as he could, for though 'twas his duty, it had been long since a leader had shown so much interest in their history for its own sake.
With the opening of the new year 1473, the Lord Galor sought after references to the founding of his town and what had come aforetime in the Second Age. Thither, upon aged wooden shelves, dusty, but well preserved by the dry air, he found records of times long past, of family lines and events long forgotten, and as the days passed, further and further back in time his study took him. Upon 8 Narwain he summoned Helluin and Beinvír, and as e'er, Lainiel accompanied them.
"Hither I have found a journal written by a past lord, Meldir, and covering the years of 1048 to 1052," Lord Galor told them. "Amongst the entries art his observations of a migration of many Periannath from o'er the Hithaeglir. In 1050 they settled in the lands astride the Road so far west as Amon Sûl, and thither commenced to farming."
These tidings were of interest to the two ellith, for they had been amongst the horsemen east of Calenglad i'Dhaer in those days, only discovering the Periannath in Eriador upon their return some fifty years later.
"Pray read to us his first entry," Helluin asked.
With a nod, Galor turned back a few leaves and found his place.
"12 Gwirith, in the year 1050 of the Third Age: This morn brought to my eyes a thing aforetime unseen and quite remarkable…the arrival and westering passage upon the Road of many wee folk of kind heretofore unknown. They stood little past waist-high, hirsute of body, but clean of chin, and came forth unshod, burdened with large packs upon their backs as art traders of the Dwarvish race, or pushing barrows laden with house goods. I watched many pass by and finally chanced speech with one, naming myself and offering welcome ere asking after their journey. He answered in a most rustic and antiquated dialect of the Common Tongue, named himself Horlan Harfoot, and seemed both irritable and tired.
N'arly walked me feets off, I has, 'n fer what? Ta slave a for'night 'midst rock 'n snow when wisd'm says us'uns'll fry when tha sun crashes down at twi'lit? T'weren't fer sorcerers 'n goblins I be still in civ'lized parts…not sayin' fer offen's, sir.
He spat and shook his head, then nodded a farewell and continued on his way. I watched them pass by a while longer, thoroughly confused."
The Lord Galor concluded his recitation with a shrug as the two ellith laughed heartily whilst Lainiel stood by watching, also thoroughly confused.
'Twas some moments ere Helluin mastered her mirth, and after wiping her eyes, told them that, "'twas in the year 1002, when by the grace of the settler Barlun, I first made the acquaintance of the Periannath. East of Anduin and just south of the ford of the Men-I-Naugrim, he led me to the hamlet of Fur'long. Bobo Fallohide, the mayor of that pitiful row of hovels, and indeed all his folk, believed that Anor crashed down upon the western face of the Hithaeglir at each nightfall, scorching thus all lands west of the mountains. Eriador they deemed a wasteland despite my assurances to the contrary. 'Twas common wisdom to them, a truth long known to all and unquestioned. Indeed they scoffed at my claims to have traveled thither."
Galor and Lainiel stared in shocked disbelief at her words, the concept so outlandish as to boggle their minds.
"Some were eaten by Yrch and all were terrified of the Sorcerer of Dol Guldur," the Noldo added. "'Twas their beliefs, I wager, that stayed them forty-eight years from migrating west."
To be Continued