In An Age Before – Part 158
Now in the autumn of 1636, Helluin and Beinvír were roaming in Eriador when they saw many fleeing north up the South Road, yet no tidings of battle had come to them. From some amongst those refugees, they learnt that a plague had afflicted the South Kingdom of the Dúnedain, and that it was moving north. Thousands had died in Osgiliath, they said, and the royal family amongst them. Calenardhon was hard hit, yet Minhiriath, where few dwelt, was not yet so badly affected. In Cardolan, Men and beasts were dying by the thousands. Tharbad was becoming a city of the dead, and so they were fleeing north, hoping to outrun the infection. The two ellith immediately set out to aid their mortal friends.
After four days afoot they came to Húngan's mansion and found it deserted. By then, Castron son of Rochen, the last Regent of Cardolan, had been buried in his family's barrow at Tyrn Gorthad. They took their leave in sorrow and made their way east-northeast, 'cross country towards the Last Bridge o'er Mitheithel. Now no Rangers greeted them and they saw no patrols. The Red Hill Country was silent, for stealthy as the Rangers had been, 'twas the stillness of a land emptied that the Elves sensed now.
When they reached the East Road but a few miles from the bridge, they saw refugees heading west, and the bodies of some Men and horses lying in the grassy margins. They hastened their steps, fearing that worse lay ahead. The road 'twixt Mitheithel and Bruinen was much like the road further west, save that fewer of the living traveled it, and rather more of the dead lined the way. When they reached the track that led away south to the Angle and Celenhár, they found the inn abandoned, its windows shuttered and its doors nailed fast. They had seen no Rangers yet in Rhudaur.
Now on their second day walking south from the East Road, they came upon a strange thing. Well spread out in fields along the sides of the road were encamped some few hundreds of Rhudaurim in tents and covered wagons, and just beyond them a barrier. There the land had been laid bare in a band of four fathoms width, which stretched away to the east and west so far as their eyes could see. Trees had been cut and fields plowed under to accommodate the break, and blocking the track there stood a gate with a sign. Upon it, in Sindarin and the Common Tongue, was writ, Forty days ere ye be admitted to sanctuary. Stay or be shot.
They were still staring at it when three figures rose from 'naught but the air, it seemed, and welcomed them.
"Mae govannen, Helluin a Beinvír. In Erin Canchaen¹ applies not to the Elder Children, for we are not subject to the plague. Come, mildis nín, many friends would greet you." ¹(In Erin Canchaen, The Forty Days the original length of a quarantine. Sindarin)
'Twas Gwilolrán and two others of the Laiquendi. Shortly after, the five Elves vanished from mortal sight and took counsel together amidst a copse of willows 'nigh the banks of the Idethol.
"We were surprised to find that ye have come hither, my friends," Helluin said, "and we are very glad of it."
"How fares Rhudaur, mellon nín?" Beinvír asked.
To this, Gwilolrán chuckled and said, "they fare better than those in Cardolan or Gondor. Indeed, few as they were to begin with, fewer still have died. Those already living in the upper Angle were ushered south, and then we cordoned off the southern half of this land as a sanctuary. Many Rhudaurim living north of the Road have come and now wait the forty days ere being admitted, for by then, we deem no contagion abides with them. Of those who fled west, we know 'naught save that some have fallen."
"How then did all this come to pass, for elsewhere we have seen only panic and death?" the Noldo asked.
"Thy friend in grey learnt of it even ere the first refugees came north from Dunland, though we know not how. Still, he gave counsel to our king, and Dálindir to the wandering companies, and an order was sent to mass hither for a new duty. So for a few seasons we shalt guard the border of this sanctuary, along with some Rangers who are stationed furthest from the roads. In this land, rivers run to the east, west, and south, swift and broad. Thus we are isolated from those carrying the plague. Hither art most of the Rangers, the folk of the hamlets and farms of the Angle, and thy friends in Celenhár."
So, Mithrandir learnt of the plague ere it arrived, Helluin said to Beinvír silently, eye to eye.
Perhaps he hath spoken in thought with Elrond, wise healer that he is, the Green Elf replied.
And perhaps too with Galadriel, Helluin guessed, for of her could come tidings of Gondor and Rhovanion.
"Hast thou had to shoot many?" Beinvír asked, for she had seen the desperation of those refugees they had met upon the roads.
"A few, but fewer than one might expect," Gwilolrán said. "We go amongst them and explain all to them, and they have seen others enter who have waited the forty days, and so they have hope, and of that, patience. We bring them food so none starve, whilst 'aught else they may need, firewood, water, and shelter, are available in the lands close 'nigh."
"Know thou 'aught of Arthedain?" Helluin asked.
"We know that a lone messenger from Fornost passed into the Hidden Valley, and that he left the next morn, returning thence to the king's city," Gwilolrán said. "What message he carried, we know not, yet upon the very day of his return, the Dúnedain began to disperse from the fortress. They scatter still a fortnight later. We deem the Peredhel advised them thus, to reduce the density of their population, thereby to make the more difficult the spread of the plague."
The two ellith nodded in agreement with his assessment. 'Twas good advice and King Argeleb had been wise to accept such counsel. It seemed the king was doing all that could be done to preserve his people, and if Elrond and Mithrandir had 'naught further to add to the wisdom the Peredhel had already shared, then 'twas no more that the two ellith could do.
I deem this not a foe that I can fight, Helluin said to Beinvír silently, eye to eye.
Aye, swords and bows are of no use here, and the Wise have given their counsel, the Green Elf agreed.
Then whither now, meldanya?
Perhaps we should visit with our friends in Celenhár, for 'tis long since we have repaired thither.
With a nod, Helluin agreed to the course her beloved had named. They said their farewells to Gwilolrán and his companions and took their leave, knowing well the way.
That evening the two ellith came to Celenhár, and they walked down the road towards the upslope that marked the edge of the town. There they were hailed by a trio of Rangers of Rhudaur and this they were glad to see, for 'twas proof that vigilance survived, a welcome reminder of better times, and a catalyst of many fair memories.
"Well met, Rangers of Rhudaur, we are Helluin of the Host of Finwë and Beinvír Laiquende, friends of Celenhár and the Men of Rhudaur for many years," the dark Noldo said in greeting.
The lead Ranger of the detail, a young sergeant whom they did not know, looked them o'er carefully ere he offered a formal bow and his welcome.
"Your names are known to us from many tales, and ye appear as those tales tell. Ye are welcome in Celenhár," he said. "Some there are who would take counsel with you, now that ye have come hither."
"Lord Boron and the Lady Rínriel we would greet," the Green Elf said, "for it hath been many years since last we saw them. We would ask the lord if there is 'aught of aid that we can offer."
"The lord is at the town hall, and I doubt not that he shalt send for the lady once he sees that you have come," the Ranger said. "I am Leginbór and t'would be my pleasure to escort you hence."
At the declaration of his name, the two ellith stopped mid-stride and looked at him carefully, marking now the heirloom horn he bore and a slight resemblance to one they had known aforetime.
"Art thou named for an ancestor, good sergeant of Rhudaur?" Helluin asked.
"Indeed so," he said, the pride evident in his voice. "I am named for my great-great-grandfather, a captain of Rangers."
"We knew thy valiant ancestor upon a time, and thy great-grandfather Legindál as well," Beinvír told him. "T'would seem that service to Rhudaur is a tradition in thy family."
"'Tis so indeed, back to the time of the Dúnedain kings ere the rise of Angmar. In those days my family fled south and came to Celenhár."
They began their walk towards the town and the sergeant finally gave in to his curiosity and asked, "I pray ye, tell me of my great-great-grandfather, for I know the memory of the Elder Children fades not as it does with Men."
With a smile, Beinvír began the tale of their first meeting with the elder Leginbór.
"Whilst riding west from Imladris upon the Road, we were assailed by a party of two dozen Hillmen. Five of us there were, and we had dismounted to give battle, and then from the south we heard a horn calling…"
Now they spoke as they walked, and in time they came to the long familiar town hall, where Leginbór ushered them inside. 'Twas unchanged to their eyes since the days of Lord Galor. The same tapestries adorned the walls. Upon the same dais was set the same chair, which the Lord Boron was just rising from to greet his guests.
"My Lord Boron, son of Hírnas, son of Aranas, here come to our aid are Helluin Tarelda and Beinvír Laiquende, known to thy house since the days of Galor, son of Galion, thirty and fifth King of Eriador."
The wording of the introduction was 'nigh the same as what the sergeant's great-great-grandfather had spoken at their first introduction to the Lord Galor, and it brought forth a trove of memories from that earlier time. All that was lacking was the presence of the Lady Lainiel. Now her great-great-granddaughter Rínriel lived in Celenhár, and like her ancestor, she was the current Lady of the First House of the Atani and wore Dúrrél's ancient signet ring.
The two ellith bowed to the current Lord of Celenhár, and he in turn bowed to his guests. Helluin and Beinvír marked the changes his age had wrought on him, for they had not visited the town in o'er a score of years. The Lord Boron, the nine and thirtieth King of Eriador, was then fifty-eight, having been born in 1578. His third cousin Rínriel was sixty-six, and like each of her Third Age ancestors, she had been born a few years ere the king. It had become apparent to Helluin and Beinvír that some power had dictated that the firstborn of the House of Baran would be the Lady of the House of Baragund. That pattern had held for yet another generation, for the Lady Rínriel's daughter, Rian, was three years the elder of Bór, the Prince of Eriador and next Lord of Celenhár.
"My friends, 'tis good to see you again after so many years," he said. Half a lifetime to him had seemed but the blink of an eye to Helluin and Beinvír.
"'Tis our joy to greet thee, and a great relief to find thee well, Lord Boron," the Green Elf said.
"If there is 'aught that we might do to aid thee and thy people, thou hast but to name it," Helluin said, adding, "we are impressed at the precautions we saw being taken here in the Angle."
"We have learnt that Arthedain now follows the same wisdom that has been followed in Rhudaur, though Cardolan has fared more poorly," Beinvír added.
The Lord of Celenhár nodded in agreement. From the Green Elves he had heard somewhat of those same tidings.
"'Tis the wisdom of thy folk that we follow, Beinvír, much as 'twas of old when thou trained our Rangers. I know of 'naught that can be done that is not already being done, save to exercise thy prowess in maintaining the leaguer of our sanctuary."
"That we can do, Lord Boron," Beinvír said, for the prospect of spending time with her people seemed quite welcome, considering the state of Eriador. Beside her Helluin nodded in agreement. Few were the ways that she could imagine for them to make any stroke against the plague.
The Lord Boron sent word to his cousin, Lady Rínriel that the two ellith had arrived in Celenhár. She and her daughter came to the town hall to join Boron's family for the evening meal at which Helluin and Beinvír were the guests of honor. They met in the same kitchen towards the rear of the hall where the soulmates had met with Galion and Dúriel's families following their voyage to Tol Fuin in 1534. Whilst the structure of the room was unchanged, unlike Elrond's study, all of the furnishings were different now. Each generation added to, or replaced, the house goods and decorations so that, like the occupants whose generations had successively made the hall a home, the temporary details reflected the temporary nature of the tenants. In the abodes of Men, the more personal an item was, it seemed that the quicker 'twas replaced. In the abodes of Elves, little changed from century to century, just as the occupants remained the same. Helluin and Beinvír took this as a metaphor for the nature of mortal versus immortal lives.
"'Tis good to see you after so long, my friends. Alas, we offer our apologies," Rínriel said. "My husband is occupied with command of the Rangers during the plague, whilst my son is in the south, keeping watch on the leaguer."
"We understand," Beinvír said. "Thy herven¹, Cón Mánon² has great responsibilities in these trying times. We shalt also hope for the safety of thy son, Canthon³." ¹(herven, husband Sindarin) ²(Cón Mánon, Clever Commander lit. Commander Clever One = cón(commander) + maen(clever) + -on(n on adj suff, clever one) The diphthong –ae becomes –á in compound proper nouns. Sindarin) ³(Canthon, Bold One = cand(bold) + -on(n on adj suff, bold one) The –d changes to –th at the partition in proper nouns. Sindarin)
The lady dipped her head to honor the Green Elf's sentiments, then offered her friends a smile.
Her daughter Rian, then thirty-eight years of age, told a similar tale, saying, "likewise, my husband Bachor¹ also serves as a Ranger, whilst our daughter Beinwen² is now eleven and chose to stay with friends." ¹(Bachor, Trader Sindarin) ²(Beinwen, Fair Maiden = bein(fair, pretty) + gwend(maiden, girl) The –gw becomes –w at the partition in Sindarin names, and the final –nd simplifies to –n. Sindarin)
"We rejoice in thy marriage and the birth of thy daughter, Rian," Helluin said with a smile. "It hath been some years since our last visit, and t'would seem that much good has come since."
"Life has given us few causes for complaint, and this plague is the only great evil to have befallen us in my lifetime," Rian said.
"Yet we are thankful that it hath not been worse, as reports say of Cardolan and the lands south," Rínriel said.
"All here are grateful for the aid of our friends," Boron said. Beside him, his son Bór nodded in agreement.
"Would that we could do more to ease the plight of our neighbors," the lord's heir said, "yet I deem such power is not given to us if tales speak true, for in these days, even our wisest have 'naught to add save that we guard ourselves by segregation from our fellow Men."
"So too have we heard, lord, and 'naught that we know suggests wiser counsel," the Noldo said. "T'would seem the best course is simply to keep hope and endure."
To this the others nodded in agreement. Thereafter the meal was served, and following the silence of Thanksgiving, all ate with gusto, for if 'naught else, in a farming community, food was not scarce. The evening passed with good company and the telling of many tales of the wider world and of times past.
Now the two ellith remained in Celenhár, and they aided the Laiquendi to secure the leaguer of the sanctuary. Most of that time they spent at the gate with Gwilolrán, and there they went amongst the Rhudaurim and eased their fears as the people waited on the passing of the forty days.
'Twas after a fortnight at the gate, and as the month of Narbeleth opened, that one came thither, and he was most unexpected. This refugee was no Man of Rhudaur, but rather a Halfling, tired, fearful, and indeed distraught. Straight away he marched up to the gate, which he pounded on with his walking stick, and called out to any who would listen that he was in dire need of aid, and would any please attend him.
Having heard his rustic speech ere they saw him, Helluin and Beinvír came to the gate expecting a Perian, and they were not disappointed. The Halfling stood catching his breath, bent double with his hands upon his knees. He was dressed in the fashion of a farmer with a heavy oilskin coat, a thick hat made from doubled rabbit pelts showing fur inside and out, coarse woolen pants, and of course bare feet despite the chill. He didn't stand upright 'til the Elves had been regarding him for some time, yet finally he straightened, coughed, and spat.
"Elves," he said in surprise, "'r ye a-buildin' a kingdom o' fair folks here 'bouts or what?"
"Good farmer, we are simply maintaining a sanctuary from the plague," Helluin told him. "Those coming hither in flight from the pestilence must wait forty days ere they are admitted, for only so can we be assured that they are healthy."
The Halfling regarded them skeptically for a moment.
"If thou would enter, we can accommodate thee whilst thou wait the quarantine," Beinvír said, adding a smile that she hoped would set him more at ease.
"Bah! Me 'n mine has no business here 'bouts. I can't wait no furty days either 'n I don't want in 'neways. I needs curin' magicks fer me own folks in the Sûza."
The two ellith looked at him, wondering why had he come all the way to Rhudaur, a good hundred leagues east through lands afflicted by the Plague, rather than simply heading north to Fornost and his king?
"Whyfor hast thou come hither, good farmer, when Fornost is far closer to the Shire?" Beinvír asked.
The Perian looked at her in astonishment as if she was wit-lost. Then he puffed himself up, gesturing vaguely north-west o'er his shoulder with his walking stick.
"Sickly Big folk 'r fleein' Norbury 'n only crazies be headin' that ways," he well 'nigh shouted at them, as if 'twas self-evident. "The king hisself told 'em ta flee, 'n 'neways, they got no Elfish magicks there 'bouts 'ta cure folks."
As if he'd lost his wind, he seemed to shrink before their eyes as sorrow took him, and he continued thereafter in a normal speaking voice.
"I been a-road fer a fortnight 'n six, walkin' me feets off. Thought I'd go ta that Hidden Valley folks tell of, but it's too well hid 'n I don't know th' way 'cept its east. Couple days ago I runs inta Big folk walkin' south, 'n they claim'd some Elfish sanctuary lay ahead, so I join'd 'em, hopin' fer the best. Sûza folks wer startin' ta get sickly, 'n one even died, so I left seekin' aid. We needs help 'o yer magicks ta heal 'em."
He gave them a look so beseeching that it rivaled a lost puppy or a homeless kitten. Helluin and Beinvír were hard pressed to keep from bursting out laughing despite the gravity and desperation of his plea. Finally they quashed their mirth, and Helluin answered, hoping to utterly destroy his hopes as gently as she could.
"Good farmer, we esteem thy resolve in undertaking so long a journey, and thine unfailing hope of relief for thy folk, yet even the Lord Elrond, greatest healer amongst my people, knew 'naught of any cure, and could offer only counsel to King Argeleb in Fornost. His wisdom was for dispersing the population and segregating the healthy from the sick. The results thou can see in Arthedain and here, in Rhudaur. Neither the Noldor, nor the Green Elves know 'aught of treatments or herbs that can defeat the pestilence."
Her words brought the very reaction she'd feared. The Perian sank to his knees, set his head in his hands, and wept. He remained thus for some time as the Elves stood by unsure of what, if anything, they could do to comfort him. Yet finally, when his tears were spent, he seemed to tap some well of fortitude deep within, some quiet strength perhaps conferred by a life so close to the very earth, and he raised his head.
Still kneeling on the ground at their feet, he looked up and begged them, "even if 'ye knows 'a no cure, I still beg ye ta come. We lives a hard life, 'n short compared ta the king's folk. Crops 'n seasons we knows, but Elves live fore'er 'tis said, 'n must know much we Hobbits don't. T'would do us good ta know others would help, even if only ta bury the last 'o us."
He looked 'round and added, "seems like plenty here 'bouts ta order things. Can ye not be spared a whiles?"
Helluin and Beinvír looked each other in the eyes and spoke together in silence.
'Tis a truly pitiful pass his folk endure, meldanya, yet what aid can we offer? The Green Elf asked.
'Tis a tragedy, aye, but he is right that there art already plenty hither to keep the leaguer. We could go, but as he already knows, 'naught of aid that we can offer, save perhaps our sympathy.
Perhaps we shalt indeed bury the last of them then, Beinvír said sadly, thinking of Lainiel's family, laid to rest in haste 'nigh the East Road.
I hope t'will not be so, meleth nín, though I deem that we shalt bury many ere they art too scarce for the plague to spread further amongst them, Helluin replied.
So then we shalt go thither?
Aye, we shalt go, though only to hopelessness and heartbreak, I wager, Helluin said, shaking her head at the pathos of it all and breaking off the conversation.
"Good farmer, we shalt accompany thee back to the Shire, though as we have said, we know 'naught of any cure for the plague," Helluin told him.
The farmer rose to his feet, somber, but appreciative. It seemed he held no false hopes, yet hope lived in his heart still. Dogged he was, and unfailing in his resolve.
He nodded to the two ellith and said, "I thank ye greatly. If ye knows 'a no cure now, perhaps one'll come ta ye in good time."
Having obtained their agreement to help his people, the Perian turned and began to trudge north down the road. 'Twas only after a dozen paces that he marked that the Elves were not upon his heels. He turned and in exasperation said, "people 'r dyin'. Whatcha waitin' for?"
"We should bid our friends farewell," Beinvír told him. "T'will be but a moment."
Helluin strode o'er to where the company of the Green Elves gathered and told them, "I pray ye bid our friends in Celenhár farewell for a time, for we go to the Shire to aid the Perrianath with their burials."
At the questioning looks on the faces of the Laiquendi, she just rolled her eyes and gestured to the farmer. The Noldo made her way back to where Beinvír waited with the Halfling, gritting her teeth and trying to ignore the snickers of the Green Elves.
To Be Continued
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