In An Age Before

by Phantom Bard

Part 298 posted, in which Helluin and the Riders of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý aid the Third Marshal Haleth in Rohan's defeat of the Easterling invaders. Brutal weather, disease, and failing morale play a part. Aldburg is no sooner freed of the eastern threat when tidings come of the Dunlending's invasion from the west. OCs galore as usual.

165. In An Age Before Chapter 165

In An Age Before – Part 165

Chapter One Hundred-nine

The First Defense of Fornost Erain – The Third Age of the Sun

Now in Fornost Erain the midnight hour came with the Host of Angmar's charge. The battle would be fought in the first hours of 2 Lothron. The Yrch and Tor and Hillmen advanced as if eager for battle, and when they had reached a distance of just 'neath a half mile from the walls, the order for the firing of the catapults was passed 'twixt the companies upon the walls.

"Odd numbered batteries, ignite and release!" Cried out the Artillery Captain of the Eastern Wall.

The firemen in each of the odd numbered crews upon the east facing wall of the fortress touched their torches to the projectiles, round stones wrapped in a thick coat of oil soaked straw, and the shot burst into flame. Then the chief gunners tugged on the lines that tripped the triggers, and the great counterweights fell. The long boom arms whipped upward in an arc, and the shot in the slings snapped forward. The twelve batteries lofted flaming shot into the night, to crash down on the charging enemy and light the field of battle for the archers. Immediately the crews cranked the windlasses to draw the boom arms back to firing position, and the loaders replaced the shot.

"Even numbered batteries, release!" The Captain ordered.

The chief gunners of the twelve even numbered batteries released their triggers and 100 pound solid shot flew into the night sky. The round stones were 'nigh silent as they arced up and then fell amongst the Witch King's troops. Shrieks rose from those 'nigh the impacts. Those actually struck said 'naught.

Thrice did the batteries fire alternating flaming and cold shot, by which time the Host of Angmar had advanced to within a quarter-mile of the walls. With each volley, the artillery crews adjusted the slings to release their shot earlier, and their projectiles flew in progressively higher arcs, to land closer as they paced the enemy's advance. After that third volley, the odd numbered batteries adjusted their aim to land their flaming shot to the sides of the battlefront, to further light the field of battle, whilst the even numbered batteries ceased firing. Despite being a terrifying weapon, the single shot of a catapult was tactically ineffective against massed infantry. Yet the Dúnedain had a far more fearsome weapon that had struck terror into the hearts of their foes since the days of Ciryatur.

Upon the walls and amongst the footmen on the field were deployed corps of bowmen bearing the fearsome steel longbows of Númenor. Those on the field stood behind a palisade of doubled rows of sapling trunks, set into the ground at an angle so their sharpened tips faced the enemy. 'Twixt the archers stood shield bearers who also bore spare quivers, and many hundreds of pikemen. The bowmen stood to the fore as the order came from the Captain of the King's Archers, "archers, nock!"

With practiced discipline, a thousand Men drew thirty-two inch arrows from the quivers at their hips and set the nock to the bowstring. Despite facing down a charging horde, the motions they'd practiced thousands of times gave them a focus, and their breathing remained as steady as the bows in their hands.

"Archers, draw!"

The Men drew their bows, stretching the strings with the strength of their backs, shoulders, and arms, and building up 'nigh 180 pounds of thrust in the curved steel limbs of their weapons. They pulled the arrows back to their anchor points, base of the thumb set against the chin, and then they took aim. With their targets at a distance of almost four hundred yards, they raised their bows to an angle of forty-five degrees that would launch their projectiles into a ballistic arc that could cross the distance in a few heartbeats.

"Archers, loose!"

The three fingers that had held the bowstrings taut in the traditional Númenórean draw¹ abruptly straightened, and the sudden release of the tension stored in the steel limbs drove the arrows into the air as they snapped the bowstrings forward. Then there came that ominous, soft hiss of the fletches passing through the air, and all saw the dark cloud of shafts speeding up to the apex of their course. ¹(Númenórean draw, because of the extremely high draw weights of the Númenórean steel war bows, the Dúnedain drew back the strings of their bows using the first three fingers, placed on the bow string with the index finger above the arrow nock and the middle and ring fingers below it. The string rested behind the distal knuckles. This method contrasts with the Eldarin draw in which the pads of the thumb and first two finger pinch the arrow nock and string. The Elves say that their method reduced the possibility of any interference 'twixt the string and fingers on release, but their method wasn't stable enough for mortals when drawing back the 150 to 180 pound steel war bows.)

Those in the Host of Angmar who bore shields raised them o'erhead. Some dropped to one knee, supporting their shields on a shoulder and knee, whilst tucking their upper bodies in behind. The Hillmen and Yrch braced 'neath their oak or steel as the shafts sped down upon them. Some few without shields who marched 'nigh the Tor actually moved in closer in hopes of being protected by their bulk. Then the arrows struck, finding ground, steel, wood, or flesh. Some fell dead and screams came from the wounded, but those who had survived leapt back into motion and hastened their charge. They came on at a dead run now, seeking thereby to shorten their exposure by more swiftly closing on the lines of the defense.

The archers of Fornost loosed two more volleys as the enemy charged ere the order came to, "fire at will!" By then, the targets were straight ahead at under one hundred yards, and the Dúnedain briefly held individual foes at arrow point ere they released.

All this Helluin and her detail of fifty soldiers watched from the hillock to the south of the lines as the host of Angmar closed on the defenders. Men gripped their shields more tightly, feeling secondhand the fear and excitement of withstanding that assault, yet divorced from it as were their comrades upon the walls.

Now Helluin leapt down from the wagon bench and stood before her Men on the lowered lid of the crated mirror.

"The foe closes with the Tor amidst them. They come not at the fore, for the Yrch and Hillmen have outpaced them to the engagement, yet ere they wreck their havoc, we shall destroy them. Stand fast then and aim true, for the sake of thy brothers in the line," Helluin called out.

In the arc facing her, forty-five Men lifted their shields, and with practiced anticipation, angled them towards their targets as they squinted to protect their eyes.

Now as the Tor approached the battle line, the dark Noldo whispered words from her memory of the Blessed Realm that were both an incantation and a prayer.

"Aþāraigas, Tulukhedelgorūs rušur! Phanaikelūth, Ibrīniðilpathānezel ithīr!¹ Anno nin silim celeir!²"

The lines clashed, pikes skewering the foremost of the foemen as the last arrows were shot and the first swords were swung. Then, upon the hillock to the south, Light blazed as if Eärendil the Blessed had landed Vingilot in their midst, for 'twas the same light, come of the same ancient source, yet in intensity, far greater still. A furlong to the west, the walls of the fortress were lit as by a bolt of lightning that faded not. So bright was that ríl that friend and foe alike ceased their battle to stare in amazement, and then they clamped shut their eyes or turned away, for 'twas too brilliant to comfortably behold.

The Light of the Two Trees that the Noldo had absorbed in Aman in an Age before grew in its intensity for a heartbeat as Helluin stabilized her radiance. Then, both directly from her blindingly incandescent body, and reflected by the heirloom mirror of Númenor, the single place in Mortal Lands save Khazad-dûm from which mithril had e'er been mined, that Light was focused by the polished shields of the Dúnedain as they squinted into the glare. Forty-five beams of brilliant Light lanced out 'cross the field east of Fornost Erain. The beams shifted, seeking and then finding their targets, the great, lumbering Tor. Illuminated thus, the giant monsters fell prey to that mortal curse that even Morgoth, who had first bred them in the years of twilight ere the rising of the Sun and Moon, could not abolish. One by one, after a few seconds of steady exposure, the doomed Trolls froze and turned to stone.

A great cheer rose from the Host of Arthedain, whilst from the Host of Angmar came cries of shock and dismay. Then the blinding beams from the shields swept the battle lines, and the foes who faced them were forced to recoil away or close their eyes. Backed by the brilliance, the Dúnedain fell upon their foes, and began to drive them back.

Upon the hillock, the Light began to fade as Helluin diminished her manifestation of power. 'Twas an exertion to maintain, for it partook not of her battle rage, but rather 'twas a reasoned tactic born of cold intent, and she breathed deeply to recover as the dark of night reclaimed the field. Her company had won a great victory in but a few moments, quickly depriving the enemy of their most fearsome contingent, yet the dark Noldo deemed their action incomplete. She cast forth her senses and discerned 'naught.

Whither skulks that accursed shade, Tindomul? Forewarned now by our gambit is he, and I wager he shall be shy of the field hereafter, that miserable cur.

Similar thoughts born of her irritation took root in Helluin's mind, and she began to brood as her soldiers celebrated their destruction of the Tor.

On that first night of battle, the Army of Arthedain pushed back the Host of Angmar 'til the retreat gained momentum. And when that retreat became a rout, the army disengaged and returned to the city. Having met an unexpected defeat both tactical and morale, the Yrch and the Hillmen withdrew a league, and all wondered if they would sustain another assault by the cavalry during the following hours of daylight. Few would sleep in their camp where all were dejected and confused. They had not enjoyed the expected reinforcement of the Witch King's morgul following Helluin's assault, only the motivation of his threats during their advance. Likewise, the Dúnedain had not suffered for it.

In the failing hours of the night, the Yrch and the Hillmen counted not their losses, yet the Host of Angmar now stood reduced to half the strength they'd had when they marched from Carn Dûm. Amongst the Hillmen there grew the suspicion that their master cared 'naught for their welfare, a belief that the Yrch had long taken for granted. 'Round their camp, one survivor of the battle would fall here and another there through the remaining hours of darkness as the Laiquendi continued their sniping.

Now the Witch King indeed cared 'naught for the welfare of his troops. They were mortals, blade fodder, and nothing more. Their invasion of Arthedain was ne'er really intended to conquer the fortress, only to sap another measure of the strength from the last remaining kingdom of the northern Dúnedain, for his plans partook of a long term strategy.

The realm of Angmar was slow to build its strength, for the lands were marginal, and the growing of crops and the forging of weapons were carried out at a marginal pace. Some supplies he received as tribute from Hillmen in the eastern uplands of the northern Hithaeglir, and some from Easterlings deployed west by his master. These too had suffered in the Great Plague two centuries aforetime, yet Arthedain had suffered as badly, and the Dúnedain were slower to recover their numbers than the more short-lived mortals he commanded. So whether 'twas now, or in a century, or in two centuries, Arthedain would fall, and being immortal, he would be 'round to encompass their ruin.

On the night of the opening battle at Fornost, the wraith was riding at the head of a smaller, but better equipped host, numbering ten thousands. They had departed from Carn Dûm three days after the first host of twenty thousands…just long enough to be sure that the doomed parade of meat had drawn off the cordon of the Laiquendi. He had then marched his troops southwest in haste, skirting the North Downs entirely by two score miles to the north, through cold and barren lands that had ne'er been part of the old realm of Arnor. In the early morning hours, as his first host licked their wounds and ruminated on their defeat, he turned south towards Fornost, entering at last the north marches of what had once been Arnor. Though 'twas still nominally a part of Arthedain, 'twas so in name only, for the Dúnedain had become too few to populate it. So he rode forward expecting no opposition, and intending to come unlooked for upon the battle from the northwest, on 5 Lothron, which was now three days hence.

Tindomul knew of Helluin's presence and of the success of her gambit. The blast of shock and fear from his soldiers had been deafening, and it had contained sufficient detail to inform his understanding. The wraith knew doubt too, and with fell words he reinforced the masking spell that hid him and his second host. He could still feel the lash of his master's chastisement in 1409 when he had reported his earlier failure, because of her.

To preserve thy troops thou fled a host of Calaquendi, my servant? How so when none such exist in Mortal Lands? Come, open thy mind and show me, O Murazor!

The request was but a jest, for e'er his master took 'aught that he desired. Sauron had watched his memories, chuckled, (ne'er a good sign), and then openly guffawed. Tindomul had cringed.

Little fool of a prince, 'tis good thou was't but the second son of Ciryatan, for thou hast not the wit for kingship. Thou saw Helluin! Suspected thou not her lúthas? She showed thee phantoms, memories projected. The Dark Lord's ridicule had continued for several days 'til his master tired of humor and expressed his displeasure with pain. For by thy cowardice thou failed when victory lay within thy grasp, allowing Elrond and Helluin to escape whilst Arthedain remains. O'er and o'er thou shalt attack 'til thou succeeds…or falls.

Yes, he had been the second son of the king, but also second in line for the throne of Númenor. Craving power of his own, he had accepted the aid of Sauron the Deceiver in despite of the history of his people. Now, rather than being a long dead prince who had served his father and brother with honor, he was the undead slave of his master, and not for the first time he pondered his choice. Yet all that mattered not. He was laid in bondage 'til the end of days and he would do his master's bidding unquestioned, for any other choice lay dead in an Age before.

Now in the mid-morn of 19 Gwirith, Galdor had literally taken his leave of the Hidden Valley at once and ridden in haste for Mithlond. In a feat of endurance riding, (during which his horse had endured far more than he), the Sinda had made the walls of the Havens on the 27th. Straight away he reported the tidings from Elrond's council to his lord, and Círdan had called for the muster of the Sindar immediately thereafter. The first warriors had marched away during the night of the 28th, with the cavalry to follow two days later.

By the morn of 2 Lothron, the infantry of Lindon had covered some sixty leagues, for they had traveled in haste and nightfall stayed them not. Two score and five miles they had made in each of their fourteen hour marches. The Sindarin infantry had headed northeast from Mithlond, skirting the Emyn Beraid to the north, passing Sûza's northwestern border, and then the southern margins of the Emyn Uial. They had come to the eastern end of the Hills of Twilight with the rising of Anor, and before them lay the gently rolling woodlands stretching east to Baranduin and the North Downs. The Elves of Lindon expected to reach Fornost two days hence, to reinforce the Dúnedain, or break a siege of their city.

The infantry had been joined by their cavalry during the night of 30 Gwirith, and for the past two days, the mounted knights had formed the vanguard and had sent scouting parties in advance of the foot soldiers. The foremost of these companies had ranged so far as to confirm the crossing of Baranduin almost a full day's march to the east. The scouts had seen no signs of the enemy, and for this they had the Naugrim and the Laiquendi to thank, though they knew 'naught of the battle at the foot of the Caradhras Pass.

At Fornost Erain, the outcome of the first night's combat was celebrated with great thanksgiving. The Host of Angmar had been routed convincingly and the Tor utterly destroyed. These results could not have been more welcome. Indeed the battle had been so short-lived that in the aftermath, only half a thousand enemy casualties had been counted. As the field infantry and the archers feasted at what would normally have been their breakfast hour, King Araval and Prince Araphant met with the commanders and their allies. They were seated 'round a large table in the center of the general staff's council chamber, high in the tower where windows looked out o'er the battlements in all four directions. 'Twas 2 Lothron.

Gathered there to attend the king and his heir were the captains of the artillery and the archers, the knight commander of the cavalry, and the officers of the infantry. There too were the lords Elrond and Glorfindel, and with them, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, who sat brooding.

"By the grace of the Valar and the prowess of many have we been granted a great victory this night," the king proclaimed. "Indeed, thus far I would deem our campaign blessed, for we have worsted a numerically superior foe at each engagement.

Yet ere we celebrate prematurely, 'tis known that the enemy host encamps barely a league from our walls, and we deem they still comprise a force of ten thousands. The threat has not abated and the fighting shall continue, but each victory increases the chances of our foe's final defeat."

'Round the table, heads nodded in agreement with the king. Then he requested their post-action reports on the battle.

"I pray ye, share with us the status of your troops and the defense."

The captains and commanders stood to deliver their tidings in order 'round the table deosil. The first to speak was the Captain of the King's Archers.

"Your Grace, m'lords and allies, during the night's battle one thousand archers took part, half deployed upon the field at the palisade, and half deployed upon the eastern wall walks. Additionally, five hundreds of shield bearers were deployed on the field with the archers. No casualties were sustained upon the walls, but upon the field sixteen were slain and a score injured in varying degrees.

In sum, they fired some three thousand five hundred arrows, three thousand in coordinated volleys ere the lines clashed, and another five hundreds at close quarters upon the field. Following the battle, we have recovered almost two thousand seven hundred shafts undamaged, and another three hundreds to be refletched. We counted amongst the fallen, four hundreds and a score of foemen slain by arrows. Of their wounded, we know 'naught."

The captain bowed to his king and the prince and took his seat.

Next stood the Artillery Captain of the Eastern Wall. After bowing to his lord and the heir, he proffered his report.

"Your Grace, m'lords and allies. In the battle this past night, only the batteries upon the eastern wall were engaged." He looked to the three captains seated beside him. The captains of the southern, western, and northern walls nodded in agreement with his statement.

"Each battery fired thrice whilst the enemy charged from four to two furlongs range. The dozen odd numbered batteries applied burning shot to light the field, and the dozen even numbered batteries applied solid shot for effect. As the enemy closed within two furlongs of the line, burning shot was applied to the flanks to maintain light levels for archery and combat. Batteries one, three, nine, and eleven fired twice ere the retreat began in earnest and the order to stand down was called.

In total, the batteries released forty-four loads of burning shot and thirty-six loads of solid shot. In the aftermath of the battle, thirty-one undamaged solid loads were recovered from the field, and an additional twenty-eight cores for burning shot that are currently being resheathed in straw. We counted two score foemen certainly struck by the solid shot, another dozen immolated by burning shot, and some dozen and one-half possible casualties. None amongst the artillery crews took injury."

The captain bowed again to the nobles and reclaimed his chair.

He was followed by the Commander of the Infantry, who rose and bowed formally to the king and the prince, and offered a dip of his head to the lords Elrond and Glorfindel and Helluin.

"Your Grace, m'lords and allies, seven thousands of the infantry were deployed in defensive lines upon the field in last night's battle. As the Host of Angmar charged, they were engaged first by the archers, but when the lines clashed, these withdrew behind their shieldmen, bringing the pikemen numbering five hundreds to the fore. Once the charge was halted at the palisade, these advanced, allowing the six thousand footmen to follow, disperse 'cross the battle line, and engage hand to hand.

The engagement continued with the infantry advancing as the foe gave way before them, and eventually, their retreat became disorganized, leading to a full rout of the enemy."

Here the commander glanced o'er at Helluin, and added, "by the king's grace, fifty footmen were assigned to the company of Helluin Maeg-mórmenel for special training. In truth, I knew not what this entailed, but in last night's battle, all saw the results."

Here the commanders and captains seated 'round the table, stamped their feet in agreement, and they smiled and offered words of praise softly spoken, for by her tactic, many lives had been saved and the victory ensured through the destruction of the Tor, and the demoralization of the Host of Angmar after.

"I cannot o'erestimate the value of what our ally achieved, for by her prowess were the Trolls slain, the Hillmen and Yrch blinded when the lines clashed, and their spirit broken. We drove them hence in but an hour's fighting. I will add that our casualties were astonishingly light, a score and one hundred slain and eight score wounded after facing ten thousands and two score of the Tor. 'Tis unprecedented in all my years of experience, and I cannot recall the morale of my Men being higher."

The Commander of the Infantry bowed to his king and the prince, but also to Helluin, and then he resumed his seat. Thereafter followed the Knight Commander whose cavalry had not engaged in the battle, and who had 'naught to report.

"We have heard the accounts of the captains and the commanders," King Araval said, "and now I beg counsel. I pray ye air whatsoe'er concerns ye have regarding the state of the defense, for as I said aforetime, this war is not done."

The commanders and captains remained seated and they looked to one another, but 'til they had new orders, they had 'naught to add. Their sections were sound and stood prepared for further actions. When the silence had held apace and 'twas obvious that none would speak, Helluin rose from her seat. Clad in her black battle dress and armor, and radiating a simmering wrath, she made a compelling figure whose menace and subdued Light focused the attention of all in the room.

She bowed first to the king and the prince, but also to Elrond and Glorfindel, and then gave a nod to acknowledge each of the commanders as well.

"King Araval, noble warriors, despite the victory of the night just past, I have grave concerns regarding the state of the defense. During the battle, I sensed not the presence of the Witch King, nor felt his morgul upon friends or foes. This I deem a threat, for if Tindomul lurks not 'nigh the field, then he is at a remove, and I wager he leads a flanking force towards Fornost as he did aforetime in 1409. Also, he shall be aware of me, for he hath surely marked the despair that burst from his soldiers at the worsting of the Tor. He shall be wary now, and the more dangerous for it.

'Tis also known to me by tidings from the Laiquendi that he attempted to bring reinforcements o'er the Pass of Caradhras. Yrch from the Hithaeglir numbering some thousands were engaged and suppressed 'nigh the foot of the pass by a mixed force from Eregion and Khazad-dûm. In this, I see the strategy of a coordinated assault from two flanks whilst the force engaged o'er the past few days acts as a diversion.

Scouting parties must be sent out, O King, north, west, and south, for we also seek the march of our allies from Lindon who should now be drawing 'nigh. I deem our knowledge of the wider battlefield is insufficient to best marshal the defense."

Here Helluin bowed to the king and resumed her seat. A groan and a look of concern shaded the king's face, whilst 'round the table the captains and commanders muttered in their new found uncertainty.

Killjoy, the Lord Glorfindel said silently when he caught Helluin's eye. A chuckle, suppressed with difficulty, softened his word.

Helluin could only grimace and shrug. She had been bearing ill tidings to friends for millennia. To the north I shall go following our dismissal from council, she said silently to her old friend, for I doubt a host from Angmar shall come from the south, and t'will be our allies from Lindon that come from the west.

Pray take a horse then, meldis nín, for I deem speed the greater ally than stealth.

With a nod of agreement from Helluin, they broke from their silent conversation to find King Araval calling for the Captain of Scouts and adjourning the council.

Two hours later, that being three hours ere noon, Helluin took her leave of Fornost Erain. She rode bareback as was the way of the Elves with their horses, subjecting the noble beasts to neither bit, nor bridal, neither stirrups, nor reins. From the city gate that faced south, she made her way alongside the wall 'til she could turn northwest, and then she skirted the bottomland of the last down upon whose heights the fortress stood. North and west of the downs lay gently rolling land that flattened towards Forochel, and she set out north, alternately walking and trotting, and covering two to three leagues each hour.

No roads led through those lands anymore. No Dúnedain had dwelt there for many years now. 'Twas windy and cold for the most part, and a chill breeze blew down from the distant bay, funneled through the broad corridor 'twixt the Emyn Uial in the west and the North Downs to the east. The forest of pines that clad the southern portions of that land became more stunted and broke into copses as it progressed, then graded to low shrubs, grasses, and lichens in the north.

A zigzag course she threaded through the landscape, trying to espy any tell tales of a marching host, dust risen in the wake of their column, birds or other creatures put to flight, the smoke of cook fires, or the rumor of the tramp of feet in the earth.

'Tis 'nigh noon and I wager Tindomul marches by night, the better to maintain cover and coordinate with his first host when they meet in battle. So 'tis a camp I seek, rather than a marching column.

By noon, Helluin had ridden twenty-five miles. The forest was already becoming fragmented, which was both better for visibility, and poorer for maintaining her own cover. She had found no evidence of any, friend or foe, thus far. At a small creek she stopped to rest and water her horse, and she took some waybread in lieu of a noon meal. After the passing of a quarter-hour, she mounted and coaxed her horse to a trot.

They continued north for another four hours, and as the afternoon grew old, Helluin was some sixty miles north of Fornost Erain. There she again stayed her ride and dismounted, setting her ear to the weathered stone of an outcrop and listening for 'aught that the earth would tell.

Faintly came the rumor of footsteps, yet far too few for a marching host. 'Twas more akin to the pacing of a score or two, and as she listened, they drew no closer.

Sentries on watch, she realized, at last I have found evidence of their camp.

She remounted, and in haste now trotted north and slightly east, whence her hearing reported the pacing came. She deemed the distance another three leagues, give or take.

An hour's ride shall confirm the threat of the enemy, and with luck, their composition and the presence of Tindomul as well. The Noldo licked her lips in anticipation.

After two leagues, the landscape passed from open forest to isolated copses of stunted trees amidst a mix of low shrubs, ground cover, and coarse grasses. Bare rocks showed on the surface and boulders stood covered with heavily textured coats of lichen. The chill wind blew more freely from the north now, and Helluin slowed and again dismounted to listen to the earth.

Oh, close they are now, and with care I must proceed, for no stealth can hide my horse.

Half a mile further on she found a shallow, dry ravine where some periodic stream had run, perhaps with snowmelt in early spring, or perhaps with the flood of a deluge once a century. There she dismounted and with a few softly spoken words, bid her horse have patience and remain hidden lest it be discovered to the detriment of them both. Then she went forward with stealth, disappearing into the landscape and advancing on the camp of the Witch King.

She had come a quarter mile and a low ridge lay before her. This she climbed, and with the greatest care, looked o'er the top. In the rolling lands another quarter-mile to the north lay a wavering and ghostly presence, a morgul if e'er she had seen one. It sat as a dome encompassing in breadth a third of a mile, in which 'naught could be clearly discerned, and she could not see clearly through it either. All was quivering within its bounds, and the land behind it was aquiver as well. 'Twas as if an inverted bowl of heat waves had been set upon the ground obscuring 'aught that lay within. In a desert of the Haradwaith, t'would have made some sense.

Stupid wraith. He hides his host whilst planting a sign clearly announcing their presence. A smile graced her lips. 'Tis now 'nigh five hours past noon, and the eve shall be upon me in another hour. I deem the host shall march with the setting of the sun. 'Tis time to return and report my tidings to the council.

Yet even as she rose, Helluin was wracked with an incapacitating blow of mingled sorrow and pain, and she felt the rending of a part of her heart. She sank to her knees and then keeled o'er onto her side with a low groan of anguish. 'Twas every bit as profound as when the world had changed and Aman had been torn away with the Whelming of Númenor. The Noldo lay immobile in a crumpled heap, staring up at the sky where a few thin clouds hung. Dark spots sizzled 'cross the field of her vision, coalescing into a haze. Vanwa náse, she screamed silently. And then unconsciousness took her, and for a while she knew no more.

To Be Continued

¹(Aþāraigas, Tulukhedelgorūs rušur! Phanaikelūth, Ibrīniðilpathānezel ithīr! Anno nin silim celeir! Anar, Laurelin fire! Rána, Telperion light! = Aþāraigas(Anar, the Sun) Tulukhedelgorūs(Laurelin) rušur(fire) Phanaikelūth(Rána, the Moon) Ibrīniðilpathānezel(Telperion) ithīr(light) Valarin)

²(Anno nin silim celeir! Give me brilliant light! Sindarin)

My apologies for the slight tardiness of this update. Life beyond the keyboard has become increasingly distracting. I hope that all of you are safe and healthy, and that you are taking such precautions as you can to guard yourselves during this epidemic.