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.

171. In An Age Before Chapter 171

In An Age Before – Part 171

Chapter One Hundred-thirteen

The Destruction of Arthedain – The Third Age of the Sun

In rereading the extant accounts of the Fall of Arthedain in the late winter of T.A. 1974, some discrepancies stand out to me. If King Arvedui called for aid from Gondor in the autumn of 1973 when the coming assault by Angmar became known, why were his allies from Lindon and Imladris absent when the Witch King attacked? Surely he would have beseeched them for aid at the same time, for they had been instrumental in repelling Angmar in 1851, only 122 years before. They would certainly have had time, (a couple months at least from the timeline in Appendix A of LoTR), to arrive at Fornost. Yet they don't muster or appear on the battlefield until they joined the final battle in the summer of 1975, after the reinforcements from Gondor had arrived.

Next, why would it have taken Eärnur's fleet a year and a half to sail from Pelargir to Lindon? The distance was about 1,700 sea miles, and at 6 knots, it should have taken around 12 days. Even taking into account the time required for deployment to the port at Pelargir, the loading and offloading of Men, horses, and supplies aboard ship, and then the ride to battle, still the Southern Dúnedain should have arrived long before 18 months had passed. Also, I have to ask, why was the plea sent to Gondor, (and the prior arrangement of then Prince Arvedui's marriage to Princess Fíriel in T.A. 1940), by messenger and not transmitted instantaneously through the palantíri? And why was it that the only allies who came to Fornost in 1974 were archers from the Shire, even though they had not been summoned?

When constraints on military actions lead to ineffective performance on the field, it is often secondary causes that must be sought. Natural disasters, politics, instability at home, or radical changes in theater could all cause unexpected outcomes in war. As when the aid sent to Eriador by Tar-Minastir in Númenor took seven years from the request made by Gil-Galad until Ciryatur arrived in Lindon, the canon timeline doesn't make sense without some creative intervention grin. Of course, it could also be that some aspects of history were not reported in the lore of the times, or were lost after in the retelling, or were so o'ershadowed by greater events as to have been forgotten.

It seems to me that JRRT sometimes relied on inexplicable timing of military actions, (either unlikely and unexplained delays, or astonishingly fortuitous arrivals), to aid in the development of his plot lines. Perhaps such a tendency came from his experiences in the First World War. In any case, I have found it necessary to fabricate some details in order to resolve the events of 1974 to my own satisfaction while adhering to canon and retaining the results that JRRT provided in his timelines. I hope that you, the reader, will bear with me and find my solutions acceptable in the context of this story.

Now in the realms of the northern Dúnedain, many accounted Wise had served the kings of the line of Isildur since the days of Elendil, and it is believed that the first of these came with him from o'er the Sea. So 'twas that in the early 1800s, Malbeth was born in Fornost during the reign of King Araval. Although of common birth, he was a full-blooded Dúnadan whose forefathers had long served the crown, but more importantly, ere he came to the age of manhood, he was recognized as having been blessed with foresight.

Malbeth was still in his teens when he was invited to join the Office of the King's Soothsayers. King Araval had been three decades upon the throne when he was introduced to the youthful seer, then but eighteen years of age. They spoke candidly whilst walking in a garden of flowering vines, and Malbeth so impressed his lord that the king extended an invitation to join the royal court as an advisor in practical esoterica. Malbeth accepted on the spot. He had foreseen since the middle years of his childhood that he would serve kings. 'Twas T.A. 1843.

Five years passed, and in 1848 Malbeth foresaw great strife to come. Though such tidings were hardly welcome, Araval had great profit from that forewarning.

"Again the foe of thy fathers shall come from the north,

assailing Fornost from east and west.

Yet from both directions shall come aid,

seen and unseen,

and the Light of the West shall send the Darkness to flight in the end."

When Angmar attacked in 1851, King Araval had hope, for the Witch King's defeat had been foretold. Unseen aid had come from the Laiquendi to the east, and from the highly visible allied force of Lindon in the west. With Helluin's destruction of the Tor, he understood the final stave, and so with confidence, he agreed to the deployment of most of his troops in the east, despite the foe there being so drastically reduced.

For the next forty-three years, Malbeth the Seer served King Araval, and when Prince Araphant came to the throne of Arthedain in 1891, Malbeth was retained as a member of the court. He was trusted and familiar aside from his gifts, for King Araphant had known him during all his years of service to his father. By then it had been twenty-seven years since Malbeth had named his lord's heir.

"Arvedui you shall call him, for he will be the last in Arthedain.

Though a choice will come to the Dúnedain,

and if they take the one that seems less hopeful,

then your son will change his name and become king of a great realm.

If not, then much sorrow and many lives of men shall pass,

until the Dúnedain arise and are united again."¹

¹(Prophecy of Malbeth to King Araphant in T.A. 1864, taken verbatim from LoTR, Appendix A, (iv) GatHoA, pg. 1025)

Prince Araphant had named his son Arvedui, Last King, in accordance with Malbeth's prophecy. Despite the ill-fate presaged in his heir's name, King Araphant kept hope. From the start of his reign, he fended off repeated incursions by evil Men and Yrch, remnants of Angmar whom his father had defeated in 1851. With King Ondoher of Gondor, he reopened communications 'twixt the northern and southern realms of the Dúnedain. The need of aid by both during the dwindling years of their power had been foreseen. To cement the renewed relationship with a renewed tie in blood, he arranged the courtship and marriage of his son Arvedui to Ondoher's daughter, Fíriel, in 1940.

In that marriage, the lines of Isildur and Anárion were rejoined. Throughout the Third Age and after, the heirs of Arvedui ne'er forgot that they could claim the lineage of both houses. They were the Heirs of Elendil, though t'would be many a year ere any dared to display the heraldry of that blood inheritance. Two sons and a daughter Fíriel bore to Arvedui, just as her mother had borne aforetime to Ondoher, yet only their elder son, Aranarth, would be recalled in common lore.

The choice of which Malbeth had spoken came sooner afterwards than expected. In 1944, King Ondoher and both of his sons fell in battle, and by the Laws of Númenor, his surviving child was sovereign of the realm. Arvedui sent word to Gondor claiming the Crown of Anárion on behalf of his wife, Princess Fíriel, but the Council of Gondor made the choice that seemed more hopeful to them. Eärnil, their victorious captain and a distant relative of Ondoher, was crowned thirty-second King of Gondor. For the third time, a lateral descendant of Meneldur would rule the South Kingdom. Fíriel, still heartbroken by the loss of her father and brothers, and having no great desire for the crown, accepted their decision. And rather than changing his name and becoming the king of the great realm of the reunited Dúnedain, Arvedui looked forward to the long, downward spiral of his kingdom and his people.

Prince Arvedui ascended the throne of Arthedain in 1964, and unlike his father, he was reserved in his hopes. The remnants of Angmar still raided and harried his borders, even though three generations of the Men of Darkness had lived since last a Nazgûl had occupied Carn Dûm. With the fall of every soldier, he counted the strength of his realm diminished. The best he could do was to prepare his heir for the lordship if Arthedain should fall. No longer would there be a strong fortress and great armies to take the field.

"My son, heed me now, for a time may soon come when the forms of war and the strategies of defense that our people have so long employed may no longer be available to thee," he said to his heir, Prince Aranarth, in 1970.

The young Man looked to his father with his complete attention. He was then but thirty-two years of age.

"In the old Kingdom of Rhudaur, lore tells, there may still survive the remnant of a force tutored long ago by the Laiquendi. With stealth and the bow they defended their own. They call themselves Rangers of Rhudaur, though perhaps they are now few and only to be found in The Angle."

Prince Aranarth looked to his father and saw how earnest he was. Of the Laiquendi he had heard some tales from past wars, but neither he, nor any known to him had e'er seen one of that people. Of the Rangers of Rhudaur, he knew 'naught. He did know that if one were to journey so far as The Angle, they should then be close to the Hidden Valley, Imladris, the realm of Elrond Peredhel, of whom much lore spoke.

"With the Rangers may still live a King of Eriador, the right lord of all the Middle Men of these lands," Arvedui said, and at the look of disbelief on his son's face, he added, "'tis no jest, my son. His line comes down from Beleriand and the First House of the Atani. By now, 'nigh fifty generations may have ruled the line of Balar, elder son of Bëor."

For long the prince said 'naught. He could hardly believe of what his father spoke. A Man of Twilight with such a lineage was unheard of. Beleriand…the First House. He had learnt many tales of the Elder Days from his tutors during his youth, the things a son of royalty needed to know to value and understand his place and the place of his people, and from whence came his mandate to rule. Yet 'twas obvious that much had not been touched upon. He wondered what else he had not learnt.

When he looked up, he saw his father watching him, and deemed that his amazement was understood. With a nod from the prince, the king continued.

"The kings are distant kin to us through Tuor and Eärendil, father of Elros, first King of Númenor, though they are closer in kinship with the Lord Elrond. I cannot stress to thee deeply enough the ancientry of that house, nor the honor won by their sons and daughters of old."

Aranarth nodded again to his father, for those names were familiar from his lessons.

"Thou recall the Oath of Argeleb? I pledge to ye this day, that if by the grace of the One I should come to the throne of Arthedain, that I shalt discharge my kingship with all nobility and honor due the office, and act for the welfare of my people and all free peoples, to shield them from evil and the Great Enemy.

'Twas first spoken by Argeleb son of Araphor at the funeral of Galor, thirty-fifth King of Eriador, in 1529. Each of us who have taken the throne since have recited those words at our coronation. He pledged that earnest to the king's widow, Lady Lainiel, the Lady of the First House of Beleriand, whose story is very strange. She too may have a descendant living in our time, and if so, perhaps thou shalt hear that tale told one day. Argeleb certainly esteemed her.

My son, should the times grow so dark that the ways of Arthedain no longer suffice for the fulfillment of thine oath, then perhaps from the Rangers of Rhudaur thou shalt learn what is necessary. The realm and the kingship may pass, but still we are bound by the pact King Elendil made with the Middle Men of Eriador."

"Father, so long as I have life, I shall honor the word bond 'twixt our people and theirs, come what may."

"No more and no less can any subjects expect of their king," Arvedui said.

Following their conversation, Prince Aranarth studied lore and questioned the learned Men of the court, and ere need drove him east, he knew for whom and what he sought. Long the prince had contemplated his father's words, and in years after, when times indeed grew dark and the realm and the kingship were no more, still he would persevere in the duty Elendil and Argeleb had pledged to their subjects. 'Twas the start of a new way of life and the continuation of an ancient duty, and all of it had been foreseen by an old Man in Grey on Hollin Ridge.

Now later in that same year, Malbeth came to his king, and he spoke words regarding a distant future, and though they bore not upon the trials of the present, still they would be recalled for many generations in the north, for one day long ahead, they would hold a key to the reestablishment of the kingship and the realm.

"Over the land there lies a long shadow,
westward reaching wings of darkness.
The Tower trembles; to the tombs of kings
doom approaches. The Dead awaken;
for the hour is come for the oathbreakers:
at the Stone of Erech they shall stand again
and hear there a horn in the hills ringing.
Whose shall the horn be? Who shall call them
from the grey twilight, the forgotten people?
The heir of him to whom the oath they swore.
From the North shall he come, need shall drive him:
he shall pass the Door to the Paths of the Dead."¹

¹(Prophecy of Malbeth to King Arvedui, taken verbatim from LoTR, RotK, Book 5, II PotGC, pg 764)

In this prophecy, Arvedui found a measure of hope. The Curse of Isildur and the Oathbreakers of the White Mountains were recalled in the north. And the king deemed that one day, long years ahead, some Heir of Isildur would call the Dead to battle on behalf of the South Kingdom. Much sorrow and many lives of Men might pass 'twixt now and then, yet in the end, the realms of the Dúnedain would rise again.

King Arvedui also resolved that should Angmar come and Fornost fall, his wife and children, and his elder son especially, should flee and preserve their lives, for a possible future depended on their survival. In this he would not be gainsaid, and a detail of his finest cavalry was assigned with confidentiality to assure their escape. Ere the fortress fell, they would ride for Lindon and the safekeeping of the Elves.

Now the years grew short for the Men of the North Kingdom. In Fornost, Malbeth's dreams turned dark and the images hastened his aging. Fire and war he saw, pestilence, famine, and death, and at their heart, the Witch King and his armies. In 1973 he came to his king with the fell tidings that would be his last prophecy.

The hordes of Darkness come in winter,

and night falls like snow upon the north.

The fortress is breached, its people scattered.

A long dead prince sits at last upon the throne of Men,

whose subjects hate light, but love fire.

Short shall be his dominion, yet far ahead his fall.

From the ruins, an Age must end ere it rise again.

Malbeth finished his audience with the king, saying, "I shall not live to see that of which I have spoken."

"Then I pray thee enjoy many more years, old friend, but whether yea or nay, I thank thee for thy friendship and thy service," Arvedui said. "Would that we had more time."

The seer bowed to his king and took his leave. When he was missed at breakfast, servants entered his chamber and found him still abed, staring sightlessly at the ceiling, his brow already grown chill. He had lived 148 years. An hour later, riders hastened from the city bearing the king's pleas for aid to Lindon, Imladris, and Gondor. 'Twas 17 Ivanneth, T.A. 1973.

By the end of the month, word had reached Lindon and Imladris. The way to Gondor was far longer for the king's messengers, though some such as Helluin would have upbraided them for not using the palantíri. Ne'ertheless, word did come to Minas Anor in mid-Narbeleth.

By then, the South Kingdom was two decades past the attack of the Wainriders in which King Ondoher had been slain, and though that war ended in victory for Gondor, it had not been without cost. Many good Men, especially from the Northern Army, had fallen, and their numbers were e'er harder to replace. Those same Wainriders still held sway o'er the lands east and south of the Greenwood, and their closest forces were little more than sixty to seventy leagues north of Ithilien, 'cross flat land ideal for mounted forces. To the south lay the e'er present threat of Harad, and now Khand as well had to be taken into account. Despite his pledge of aid, Eärnil could not abandon his concerns for the defense of Gondor.

Ere sending an expeditionary force to the relief of Arthedain, many adjustments had to be made at home. Captains and companies had to be shifted whilst retaining coverage and strength with diminished resources in case a response was required. Threats needed to be reassessed to ensure the wisest deployment of his forces. As to the strength and compliment of the foe that his Men would face, he had very little information. The terrain was known for the most part, but the state of the field upon his arrival, that would remain a mystery. Should he send cavalry to fight on the plains 'nigh Fornost? Should he send infantry and archers to defend a siege of the fortress? Should he include engines of war sized for field use? What quantity of provisions would his Men require? What support personnel would be needed? Should he transport his soldiers by ship, or march through Calenardhon? What strength did Arthedain possess? Could they support a large compliment of allies for the duration of a campaign? And what of Fornost's other allies? Lindon? Imladris? The Men of Gondor hadn't fought a major campaign beside Elves since the Great War.

Eärnil had been a soldier long ere he had become king. Of the two, he had been a soldier far longer, and the considerations of mounting a large-scale campaign far from home were known to him. He understood the complexity, the effort, and the potential costs the endeavor would bring. Despite how things sounded in lore, or in popular stories and songs, one simply did not march off to a foreign land to do battle. With a groan, he beckoned a court page and bid him inform his Chief of Staff that a full council of war would meet at the third hour on the following morn. Then he called for his loremasters, to learn all he could of the North Kingdom and the Elder Kindred.

In Lindon and Imladris, the considerations were far fewer. They had been through this but a hundred and twenty-two years ago. The lands and the strength of Arthedain were known, for they enjoyed regular communication with Fornost. 'Twas no choice of how to get there…they would march and ride as they had done aforetime.

Círdan called for the muster of his people on 30 Ivanneth. Three thousand eight hundred infantry and one thousand nine hundred cavalry answered him. Six days were spent ferrying all to Mithlond at the head of the Gulf of Lhûn, for many of the cavalry's horses came from Harlindon, west of the Ered Luin. During that same time, supplies were collected and wagons loaded, and all else an army on the move required was prepared. By 7 Narbeleth, they were prepared to march.

In Imladris the Lord Elrond needed even less preparation ere he was ready to ride. As he had in 1851, he marshaled five hundred knights of the Noldor. On 29 Ivanneth they gathered their armor, their weapons, and the tack for their horses. They would ride in the morning and expected to arrive at Fornost a fortnight later.

Now though the plans of the Witch King cannot be attested save through the evidence provided by his actions and the information gleaned by the observation of his forces, a careful account was pieced together from military reports. Yet it made for a long-winded tale, not in the least heroic, and for that reason, the full history ne'er made it into popular lore, or the songs of tavern bards. What came down into the memory of all but serious loremaster was a streamlined account, shorn of its less flattering details, and bereft of those aspects deemed tedious, or uncomplimentary to the eventual heroes.

Following his 'near-undeath' experience whilst being blasted with the concentrated Light of Aman, Tindomul's spirit had fled screaming back into the east. He had barely escaped and the spiritual pain was a torment worthy of anything visited upon him by his master. If the Ringwraith had still retained any physical presence, he would have been burnt upon all surfaces in the third degree.

Indeed his condition was so pathetic that even Sauron was impressed. The Abhorrent hadn't seen such wounds since the War of Wrath. The equivalent of a grimace came to the master's Great Eye, for he too would have shied from such an assault. If e'er there had been a moment in which Gorthaur had felt a shred of sympathy for his servant, t'would have been then. Howe'er, there was no such moment, and Sauron felt no sympathy. The closest he could come was to withhold his scorn 'til Murazor's spirit had healed enough for his chastisement to make an impression. To that end, he left the Nazgûl alone in a deep, damp dungeon where he could feed on the darkness and rejuvenate his 'unself'. Sauron figured that t'would occupy a century, give or take. In the meantime, he had other matters to attend, for a gloating Khamûl had hinted at a great prize that awaited him in Dol Guldur.

Khamûl had been a king and still acted like one oft enough, the Dark Lord thought. The Lieutenant's resentment of Murazor, who had been only a prince, and his rampant competitiveness with him was tiresome, but it did serve as motivation. If the Easterling had wanted to be Lord and Captain of the Nazgûl so badly, he should have died sooner, Sauron muttered to himself for what seemed the thousandth time.

For the next ninety-seven years, Tindomul slowly recuperated in the dark. 'Twas soothing, and eventually the respite seemed an underhanded gift. He had memories, and a wealth of tactical information gleaned during his defeat that would aid him in his next campaign, for o'er the years he had worked on his plans for Arthedain. His first need was for far greater troop strength, at least double the count he had deployed in 1851. Yrch and Easterlings and Hillmen in vast numbers he would require, and many more Tor. One could ne'er have enough of the blundering creatures, but also wolves and Wargs he would include despite their need for massive amounts of meat, and this time, his primary host would travel in daylight.

There were other considerations, the most pressing of which was to find some way of distracting Helluin. He could not afford to endure her upon the battlefield again. Twice now she had encompassed his defeat. Absent her aid, Arthedain would fall. 'Twas simply a matter of isolating the Dúnedain and o'erwhelming them, for they had become e'er fewer. Clarity of purpose had hastened his healing and now he was feeling much better. Having a plan was marvelous for his…constitution. Tindomul wondered how many years had passed, and where he could find a black cloak and a horse.

When the Witch King arose, he found the door of the dungeon open and the Citadel of Fire deserted. Sauron and the other Ringwraiths were gone. Of course, they had left no note. It took him all of an hour to acquire suitable raiment, from a diseased cadaver left alongside a road, a passable sword from a warrior that he drove mad with fear, and a horse taken from a terrified stable boy at an inn. At first the beast was petrified with fear, shivering, drizzling its water, and emptying its bowels, but eventually a spell served to aid them in reaching an understanding. Thereafter he made his way west, recruiting as he went. 'Twas T.A. 1948.

Tindomul had deemed the old model of Angmar obsolete. Slowly breeding Yrch and enlisting Men in permanent settlements was a waste of his time. Now he cowed whole tribes, conscripted small outlaw armies, and slew any chieftain who stood in his way. Brigands, mercenaries, soldiers, deserters, cannibals, indeed any who bore a sword, he cared not a wit, only that they would fight for him. Promises of riches and plunder, vengeance, or the indulgence of their brutality and bloodlust, all helped to cement their fealty. He emptied orphanages for children who would grow up as part of his army, training them with fear, hunger, and desperation to forge them into merciless warriors. Those he deemed unfit became fodder for the pack of wolves that followed the army. The growing host rampaged 'cross the east from Rhûn to Rhovanion, a fearsome mass of cavalry. Any not a part of them were fair game. Villages were exterminated for sport, women taken as doxies and breeding stock, and animals butchered for feasting. The Nazgûl indulged all of his Men's worst inclinations and thereby won a fearful loyalty. Occasionally dropping Sauron's name hadn't hurt his cause either.

Finally, he turned north, 'round the Greenwood to Mt. Gundabad. There he easily conscripted the whole of the vast Yrch warren. Thirty thousands returned to his rule with only a couple hundred deaths required for motivation. This time, instead of only providing part of their army, Tindomul insisted that all of them would come. He then sent companies of Yrch south, to impress all the smaller dens and lairs in the Misty Mountains. The Wraith next spent time enticing packs of Wargs with promises of howe'er many Dúnedain children they would care to eat once Fornost fell, and he thereby won their allegiance. Their only constraint was not to feed on his Easterlings horses.

During that time, he also received some valuable tidings. Some of the warrens his Yrch visited had been emptied, slaughtered, and by then, tales were circulating amongst the conscripts of the rampaging Ghâshgûl. It took Tindomul but one hearing of those stories to recognize Helluin's handiwork. The wraith produced a wet gurgle that passed as laughter, and then recalled his recruiting parties. He would leave the Hithaeglir to Helluin if it kept her occupied and out of Eriador. By then he had raised a host of o'er seventy thousands and autumn was upon him. 'Twas time to return to Carn Dûm and renew Angmar. The year was T.A. 1973.

As his host passed through the tunnels of Mt Gundabad that led 'neath the Hithaeglir to Eriador, they recruited almost two hundred Tor of various breeds. When they issued from the west entrance of the vast Yrch warren, they found yet more Tor in the highlands of the Ettenmoors.

A mixed army of six thousands, Men, Yrch, Tor, Wargs, and wolves, he detached as a blocking force, to pass through the Cold Fells of Rhudaur so that they could come to the Bruinen and waylay the entrance to the Hidden Valley. Of course, they were promised the sport and meat of any Elves they could catch, though their primary assignment was to constrain the Host of Imladris from leaving Imladris. He reserved only Elrond himself to be taken prisoner.

Now the main body of the host crossed the broad valley that lay 'twixt Mts. Gundabad and Gram, and they came before the latter displaying such o'erwhelming strength in numbers that the Yrch of Mt. Gram joined them willingly, though of course, they were not to be trusted. Still, Tindomul had enlisted another eight thousand Yrch.

The Ringwraith immediately deployed a cavalry force of twelve thousand Easterling Men to cross Eriador at speed on horseback. They were tasked with blockading the Tower Hills and the lands from the River Lhûn to the Ered Luin, thereby withholding any forces from Lindon that sought to aid Fornost. Thereafter he spent a fortnight marching north to reoccupy Carn Dûm, and gathering such Hillmen as had remained settled in the lands of Angmar, another five thousands all told.

The new Host of Angmar arrived at Carn Dûm in late-Ivanneth, and the Wraith ordered his host into companies and appointed captains, and he familiarized all with the lands about Fornost, and his plan of battle. This time, he would come against the Dúnedain with fifty-eight thousands, Men, Yrch, Tor, Wargs, and wolves. Most of his remaining twenty-two thousand Men were riders, Easterling cousins of the Wainriders, though most were also outlaws. Of the thirty-six thousand Yrch not deployed to Bruinen, some three hundred scouts would ride Wargs whilst the rest would fight afoot. Twelve score Tor would march by night with a security force of a thousand Yrch as they made their way to the Northern Fortress. The remaining host would attack from the south, en mass, and this time, he had enough Tor to haul siege engines.

Now Tindomul's reorganization, the fabrication of a great battering ram upon which he laid heavy sorcery, the sewing of hides for the giant slings used by the Tor in place of catapults, and the collection of pumpkin-sized boulders to provide shot for them occupied several months. Rawhide tarps were sewn together and rolled up for transport on supply wagons. During that time, reports came to the Wraith that his blockades of Imladris and Lindon had succeeded. Fornost would enjoy no relief from its allies. Then, after the turn of the year, the Host of Angmar followed the Nazgûl south from Carn Dûm. The march to war would require at least a month, for they would not spare any holding, fort, or village they found along the way. Their route would take them south of the North Downs, through the populated flatlands of northern Arthedain, where the Easterling cavalry would have the greatest advantage. Having learnt his lesson in 1851, Tindomul avoided the North Downs entirely. 'Twas Narwain of 1974.

To Be Continued