In An Age Before – Part 173
On 3 Narbeleth, T.A. 1973, the Lord Glorfindel took his leave of the Hidden Valley and rode up the climbing path towards the High Pass o'er the Hithaeglir. 'Twas the same pass he'd ridden almost two thousand years aforetime, when he'd marched south with the Host of the Last Alliance. In preparation for the armies of Arnor and Lindon, the pass had been widened and graded for the passage of the cavalry and supply wagons, whose column had stretched 'nigh ten miles in length. Now the reborn Noldo compared what he saw against his memories and marked the weathering and the slow decay of the track. Two millennia of freeze and thaw, sun, rain, and snow, and the unceasing clawing of growing roots had wrought their signatures on the stone, one minute crack at a time.
With him rode three Calaquendi long known to him. All three had left Aman in the Exile of the Noldor, and later they had served King Turgon as warriors of Gondolin. All three had chosen to remain on the Hither Shores following the War of Wrath.
Thórá¹ was a gifted archer and bore a bow laminated of yew and horn as well as a falchion. The mithril brooch that pinned his cloak of cobalt blue was in the shape of an arrowhead, set in a copper bezel enameled in dark blue, purple, and black. In Gondolin he had served Lord Duilin of the House of the Swallow. ¹(Thórá, Swooping Bird = thór(swooping) + ae(small bird) The diphthong ae becomes á in compound proper names. Sindarin)
From the noble House of the Fountain had come Gwingion¹, who bore the same bright longsword he had wielded in the service of his lord, Ecthelion. ¹(Gwingion, Wavecrest's Son = gwing(wavecrest) + iond(son) The final –nd becomes –n in proper names. Sindarin)
Glorfindel's third companion was Galadhon¹, who bore both a single-handed sword and a war club studded with short steel spikes. He wore a cloak of green, pinned with a brooch in the shape of a shield bearing the device of a leafless white tree. In Gondolin, he had served the Lord Galdor and marched with the host of the House of the Tree. He was one of the most valiant, but also most warlike of the remaining Noldor. He had been a friend and sparring partner of Helluin's in the Hidden City. ¹(Galadhon, Great Tree = galadh(tree) + -on(enhancement suff on n. great) Sindarin)
Three days they spent in the pass, for it ran fifty miles from west to east. Yet they descended not to the Vale of Anduin on the fourth day, for their errand was to find Helluin, and she had haunted the Yrch dens that lay higher up in the mountains. Glorfindel doubted that Helluin had left any trail they would find. Instead, they sought for her prey. The company of four turned south on a faint highland path, rather than following the pass down to the Ford of Anduin.
On their fifth day, they found Yrch spoor. 'Nigh the hidden entrance to a filthy cave lay bones, shreds of weathered clothing, and the ring of a campfire. Surely 'twas the aftermath of some assault on a party of travelers that had led to prisoners taken and later slain for sport, and then eaten. Perhaps the Yrch had even used the unfortunates' own campfire for their feasting ere retreating to their festering hole. The forked branch embedded in the ground beside the fire ring testified to the presence of a spit. On closer examination, they found tooth marks on some of the bones and knife cuts on others, butchery and feasting surely.
For a night the party of four kept watch on the cave entrance, but they saw 'naught of any activity, smelled no scent of fire, and heard no sounds of the quarrelsome creatures. In the morn, they chanced to explore. Drawing lots left Thórá to guard their horses, whilst Glorfindel, Galadhon, and Gwingion carefully entered the den. The stench of the Yrch was faint, as though none had dwelt there for a long time. Some of the typical leavings of those creatures lay strewn about the floor, and even their crude weapons had not been taken. Further into the den they found old corpses, dried husks with bones peering 'twixt shreds of flesh. The former denizens had become fodder for rats, but it had all happened many years ago. Upon a wall, crudely written in old blood, they found the words, Im belthant huiniath!
The three ellyn retreated from the cave and returned to Thórá and their horses. There they shared tidings and took counsel together.
"'Twas certainly she," Glorfindel said. "The words upon the wall echo her battle cry, yet the trail is long cold, for 'aught that happened here came to pass many years ago."
"It may be that the Yrch thou questioned knew of this cave, or others like it," Galadhon said. Then he chuckled and added, "I should have liked to witness the dismay upon their faces."
"And what of the dead 'round the campfire, for they were not Yrch?" Thórá asked.
"Yet they were eaten by Yrch," Gwingion said. He looked to the others and asked, "how do ye read these clues?"
"From the Yrch that I questioned in Imladris, we know that the Ringwraith sent his agents to the Hithaeglir to conscript soldiers for his host," Glorfindel said, "and they too had need of meat. It may be that during their visit to this den, they were fortunate to find travelers 'nigh."
"T'would make sense," Galadhon reasoned, "for by the weathering of cloth and bone, I deem the deed done here but a few seasons old, whilst those we saw within had lain dead for many years, decades, perhaps."
"I agree," Gwingion said, "for thy tale accounts for all and leaves 'naught at odds."
"Whither then went Helluin, think thou?" Thórá asked Glorfindel.
The Lord of the House of the Golden Flower shook his head. 'Naught that they had discovered yet pointed to one way more than any other. He could only guess that 'twas more likely that she had gone, (or had already been), south rather than north, for that direction would have meant closer to Gundabad.
"'Tis my guess that we should try to the south, 'twixt the High Pass and Nanduhirion where Beinvír went missing," he said. "Still, we have not a clear path to follow. Have any of ye an inspiration?"
'Round him the other three thought a while and eventually shook their heads 'nay'.
"South then," Glorfindel said. 'Twas 8 Narbeleth.
On that same day, Helluin was twenty-three score miles to the south. In a dismal system of caverns deep 'neath Mt. Methedras that o'erlooked Angrenost, she had spent the past season, for the mountain was riddled with Yrch. Indeed, she had discerned that these were of many separate tribes, sometimes feuding amongst themselves, but most of the time warily ignoring each other. 'Twas unlike Gundabad, or the curiously named Kapul Utot, 'Goblin Town', north of the High Pass, in that it had been centuries since the last chieftain powerful enough to unite the tribes had lived there. In those glory days, they had dined on Dunlendings and the remnants of the folk of Minhiriath. Then the Great Plague had struck and the Orch King had perished, and when his body was eaten by his devoted subjects, he took thousands with him to the grave. After that time, the survivors had followed whoe'er was able to cow their local band into acknowledging his lordship. Their lack of cohesiveness had made them that much easier to destroy.
In the summer of 1973, Helluin had found a freshet running out of a cave and down the east slopes of the Hithaeglir, where it drained into Fangorn Forest. Curious, she had explored the cave, which she found went e'er deeper. Eventually, she came to a pleasant cavern with a small lake and an appropriately small waterfall fed by seepage through the rock above. For a while there had even been a few small fish, pale, blind, and sluggish. She had eaten them, one small meal at a time.
Now the cave was not a dead end. From it, several passages led upward. Though she marked no spoor of Yrch, 'twas almost a certainty that some lived in the mountain above, for well 'nigh all caves in the Hithaeglir were occupied by something. Up Helluin went, following passages that sometimes required enlargement with judicious blows of a small boulder ere she could squeeze through. Several days it took 'til she broke through a wall and found the crudely hewn passage of a Yrch den. In the darkness, she barely needed to call on her Laiquendi stealth as she took the measure of the creatures and their habitation. From the grumbling and cursing Helluin o'erheard, she pieced together some sense of their political arrangement. She surveyed a few groups at a time, confirming that they were not friends, one to another. Thereafter, she began her work.
Like anyone aspiring to advance, Helluin started at the bottom. From the roots of the mountain she came, and after two days had slain four dozens, the sum of the first den. As e'er, she asked her questions, and as e'er she received no valuable replies. Thereafter, she worked her way up, one den at a time.
Now some clans were larger and required her to work piecemeal, but o'er the course of a few days, or a few weeks, she would exterminate them all and then move on to the next. 'Twas not long ere even those at some remove marked that something was awry. Those they disliked no longer troubled them, and at times they found piles of their rivals dead. This was both welcome and unwelcome, but most deemed it a threat that included possibilities for gain. Howe'er, when they would try to expand into the newly vacated spaces, they disappeared.
Helluin persevered with dogged determination. She had 'naught but time, after all. The Eagle had said that she wouldn't die, and indeed she would linger long after all her people had left the Mortal Shores. In the meantime, she could think of 'naught more constructive to occupy her time. So the weeks passed into months and the count of the dead grew e'er higher. Cerveth, (July, more or less), ended. Urui came and went. Ivanneth followed as 'tis wont to do. Having peeked out of a few entrances, Helluin reckoned that she had worked her way half the distance to the uppermost occupied tunnels.
Surprising as it seemed, the uppermost tunnels were not the most desirable. They were further from the traveled paths in the surrounding foothills, thereby requiring more effort in coming and going to and from such places as might provide sport or plunder. So 'twas that as she worked her way higher within the mountain, she encountered fewer Yrch. On 8 Narbeleth she wrote her last, Im belthant huiniath! on the wall of a room just inside the entrance to the uppermost cave, in the blood of the last chieftain, an unpleasant character who had died still promising to eat her fleshy parts. Afterwards, she walked from the tunnel into the daylight and sat upon a boulder, looking out o'er Angrenost towards the White Mountains 'cross the Gap of Calenardhon. She traced the glint of sunlight off the River Angren as it flowed south, ere it turned west to pass 'round Drúwaith Iaur. A look behind showed the snowcap of the southernmost peak far above. For all that she had just left the highest of the tunnels, 'twas but a third of the way to the top.
"I need a bath," she said to herself.
With that in mind, she made her way downslope, and by late afternoon she had come to that very same stream she had first followed into Methedras. Soon she found a small pool amidst a rocky depression bordered by ferns, mosses, and a couple of old willows. Despite feeling the grime of the tunnels and the residue of Orc blood on her hands and face, being a warrior, she attended first to her weapons and armor. Finally, she doffed her leather battle dress and sank into the water wearing only her shift.
There Helluin reclined, enjoying the sunlight, though Anor had sunk low by then. The water was chill, but the mid-autumn day had been warm and the cool was welcome. Slowly she felt the filth of the Yrch warren washing away. She took a deep breath and let her head sink 'neath the water to cleanse her hair. After several minutes thus, she sat up and took a deep breath of the fresh air. The day had found its end, evening colors painted the sky, and she deemed 'twas time to be on her way.
And whither now, she wondered. I can go no further south. For a century, a score, and two I have sought for answers amongst the Yrch and found 'naught. 'Tis just as 'twas in Khazad-dûm and Lórinand. None know 'aught. For the millionth time she sought with her spirit, and for the millionth time, no answer did her fëa receive. Had I not questioned Námo and Nienna, I would deem her long dead, and yet I know 'tis not so. Somewhere she lives, and someday I shall find her.
As the sky darkened, Helluin climbed out of the pool. She dried herself and dressed, and girt her weapons about her. Then she turned her footsteps north, back towards the scene of Beinvír's disappearance.
Now in Fornost Erain, the Army of Arthedain was withdrawing from the city by companies. At the first impact of the ram, the Knight Commander of the Cavalry had given the order for his riders to descend into the understories 'neath the fortress. There they followed many passages, and finally came to the broad way leading to the last armory just within the northern postern door. Then they marshaled by companies and awaited the leave-taking of the royal family. After the queen and the heir had cleared the fortress, they would ride to guard the flight of the folk of the city.
'Round them were gathered the wagons and carts holding their people, fearful and grim. Many wept for the losses already endured, and for the uncertainty they all felt. They were abandoning their home, and none knew if they would e'er see it again. The knights marked that the citizens had brought little save the clothes on their backs, and the single bag each was allowed, just as the king had ordered. The elderly, the women, and the children, all were being driven hence, in the dead of night, and they had little save their faith to sustain them. 'Twas the darkest hour that any of them could recall.
In the fortress above, the infantry had begun their withdrawal from street and wall. Those who would leave last were heartened when the king joined them in the courtyard behind the outer gate. He stood a moment, as if defying the booms of the ram striking the stout doors that held back the Host of Angmar. Then he addressed his Men in a great voice that carried o'er the sounds of battle.
"Men of Arthedain! Soldiers of Fornost! On this night we cannot hold our home. Our defense was doomed by the numbers the Witch King has summoned to his cause," King Arvedui called out. "'Tis now for us but to preserve the lives of our people. Those we do have a chance to defend, and indeed we are sworn to defend, for they are the heart of our realm. These strong walls have e'er stood only for that cause.
Now ye all know the plan. Those not now upon the outer wall shall begin to withdraw by companies to the Hidden Way. Ye shall join with the cavalry already gathered there, to guard the passage of our people on their long march to Lindon. Fornost may fall this night, aye, but if the blood of Westernesse survives, our people shall endure.
I bid ye farewell now, my valiant soldiers, and by the Grace of the Valar, I shall join ye in time, should fate so allow."
With a nod to the Commander of the Infantry, the foot soldiers were dismissed to began their double-time march down the tunnels leading to the northwest. In the courtyard, the commander gave his lord a grim smile, then grimaced as another boom resounded 'twixt the walls as the ram struck the gates again.
"All is in place as ordered, my king," he said.
Arvedui returned his smile, and then beckoned the last of his archers down the steps from the wall walk. They had left behind dozens of loads of liquid shot, and trails of incendiary leading from one to the next that would act as a fuse. The king eyed the small piles of shot stacked about the courtyard, and then when the archers and shield bearers had descended the walls to join him, they retreated together down the avenue and through the second gate, leaving a trail of incendiary as they went. There they lowered the massive stone block of the gate, sealing off the city within from the outer defenses.
In the courtyard behind the second gate, they were joined by such sentries as had manned the eastern, northern, and western walls.
"My lord, the queen's party was seen leaving the fortress and entering the woods west some quarter-hour past," a sentry from the northern wall reported.
The king nodded and offered the young soldier a smile, glad to receive his tidings. Come what may, his people would have a leader to follow him.
"Thou knows what to do," Arvedui said to the Commander of the Infantry as he lit a torch and took a handful more 'neath his arm.
The commander nodded. He knew well the plan. Still, he felt bound to try once more.
"My lord, any can do what follows and I should be honored to do so, knowing thou hast taken thy leave," he said, but the king shook his head 'nay'.
"Celegon, thou hast served me with honor these past ten years, and my father for four score more ere I took the throne. Serve me now, my friend, lead our Men hence," Arvedui said. "Besides, if any should bear the weight of knowing they burnt the city of kings, it shall be the king and no other."
With a grim smile, he clapped his commander on the shoulder, maintaining a firm and reassuring grip there 'til the commander nodded and returned his smile.
"Lead thy Men to the outer door and await me thither with the last of the horses as we planned," Arvedui said. "I crave to see the wraith's dismay when his charge is met with his own element. I shall join thee shortly. Now go!"
Commander Celegon snapped to attention and bowed formally to his king ere he took his leave with the last company still lingering in the courtyard. Arvedui watched them go and then swiftly climbed the steps 'til he stood on the internal wall walk o'er the second gate. There he kept watch on the outer gate that stood on his right, down a short segment of avenue to the west and 'cross the outer courtyard. The gate shivered 'neath the impacts of the ram. T'would not be so much longer that it held.
Yet for each minute that ancient gate holds, I give thanks, King Arvedui thought, for with each minute, my heart and my people flee further beyond the reach of the accursed servant of Sauron.
The ram of the Witch King was bespelled with curses for the ruin of the North Kingdom, and therein the Ringwraith had set all his hatred of the Dúnedain. But the gate of Fornost was stout, and in its first building it had been enchanted by King Elendil himself. In those days, the might of the Men of the West had been great, and newly come from the blessed Land of the Gift, the Faithful partook of powers far beyond those of any other kindred of Men. The Curse of Isildur had entrapped the traitors of the White Mountains in 'unlife' for two thousand years, denying them the peace of death and flight beyond the circles of Arda. They had sworn an oath to him, and thereby bound themselves 'neath his power. Elendil's will had been more potent still, especially where it concerned the wellbeing of his people.
The timbers of Fornost's gates had been hewn from ancient white oaks that grew in the forests 'nigh Annúminas. Six inches thick were those slabs, and they had been set crosswise in a triple lamination totaling eighteen inches thick so that no pattern in their grain would weaken them. Then they had been sheathed in plates of hardened steel with a pattern of domed bosses that covered their outer face. Three massive hinges per side were set into blocks of granite that formed the adjacent walls of the gate towers, and those blocks were Man high in thickness. The hinge pins were forged of steel, thick as a Man's thigh.
Yet no gate can stand fore'er against a ram of sufficient mass to break it. The great gates of Minas Ithil had fallen before the ram of Gondor in an Age before, and so too would the gates of Fornost Erain fall to the ram of Angmar. Still, for a full half hour the Tor swung the ram against the gates ere even a crack appeared. It took Tindomul's host 'nigh three-quarters of an hour ere the gates finally fell.
At the breaching of the fortress, the Nazgûl gave a great shriek of triumph, and his host cheered. Then the wraith ordered his Easterling cavalry to charge. In the enclosed space behind the gate, he expected his horsemen to run down any opposition afoot. Yet when the Men of Rhûn galloped into the city, they found none there to withstand them. The courtyard was deserted. The avenue leading from it empty. As they continued down the paved way from the gate, they marked none, only a few torches dropped from the inner wall as they passed.
The torches lit the rivulets of incendiary poured 'cross the paving stones, advancing towards the piles of liquid shot. Despite their headlong charge, some of the Rhûnwaith marked the trails of fire, and though they knew not what exactly the liquid shot was, they felt a brief apprehension. Then the fire reached the shot, igniting the fuses, one to another, and 'twas not long 'til the heat cracked the glass vessels. With the explosion of each, the volume of fire and the temperatures it generated increased. Now fire climbed trails running down the walls from the wall walks above. Horsemen began to panic, and they sought to stay their mounts and turn them back, but the avenue was packed with their formation and the momentum of the charge could not be o'ercome.
And now explosions burst on the walls above, and gushes of fire o'erflowed to cascade down upon them, clinging and disordering the ranks. To either side, yet more shot burst into flame in a succession down the lengths of the wall walks. The cavalry found themselves trapped in a canyon of fire with no option to retreat, for they were too closely hemmed in by their own Men and horses. In desperation they charged ahead, trying in vain to outrun the conflagration. And so they came at last to the dead end, and the blind courtyard of E-Nbelthed Tal where yet more piles of shot awaited them. There they perished, engulfed in fire, and many amongst them suffocated ere they burned as the air was consumed by the greedy flames. So it came to pass that of the Easterling cavalry, but a couple hundreds survived, and that was deemed a great blessing, for their count was insufficient to face the remaining cavalry of Arthedain, or threaten the flight of the Dúnedain once their escape became known.
Much as he had desired to see the frustration of the Ringwraith at the failure of his charge into Fornost, King Arvedui could not delay his last Men's withdrawal from the fallen fortress for his own pleasure. After assuring himself that his torches had ignited the liquid shot, he descended from the wall. As he crossed the inner courtyard, he heard the cavalry charge, the beat of hooves, and the detonations of the incendiaries. The king hastened into the fortress and descended the ramps and tunnels, knowing that his tactics had bought time for his peoples' flight. He came to the broad way 'neath his city and broke into a dead run. Arvedui was panting for breath when he finally reached the armory where the last company of his soldiers waited. He stopped and reached for the rope that hung from the side of the arch where the underground passage ended, and he gave it a hard yank. Then he ran to join his Men. Behind them, the broad, lamp lit way collapsed 'neath hundreds of tons of chalk and masonry, whilst in E-Nbelthed Tal, the cavalry of Angmar died in the fire they had once worshipped.
The walls and floor rocked with the deafening crash of the tunnel's collapse, and a blast of wind and dust exploded into the armory. Celegon held the reins of the king's horse, the heavy saddlebags hanging against its flanks. After giving his commander a smile of gratitude, Arvedui mounted. Then the company walked up the ramp to where a soldier stood by the postern door, and at a nod from the king, the door was opened and the company filed out.
The riders gathered in the bottomland behind the fortress. The night was chill, and from the o'ercast above, a slow drizzle commenced. All were glad of the fresh air, but they drew up their hoods to protect from the cold rain. The last soldier hauled the postern door closed and the outflow of dusty air was cut off. Then he too mounted, and at a gesture from the king, the company rode west in haste, following the dampening hoof prints and wagon ruts of their people. Soon they passed the northwest corner of Fornost, and for a short while they could see to the south the Host of Angmar on the field before the broken gates. They were still a vast host, but they had not yet advanced into the city, for the fires raged there still. And finally, as they passed into the forest, they heard from a distance a great shriek of hatred, and their hearts beat chill at the fury of the Nazgûl.
The king's party rode west, and as they drew away from Fornost, by the dim light of the burning behind them, a few marked something wholly unexpected. The road was lined with kneeling archers, dark cloaked and silent, barely to be seen along the southern verge of the track. All held bows with arrows knocked upon the strings, and they swept the forest to the south seeking targets. Not a one of them turned, or bowed or saluted, nor did any amongst them even acknowledge the passage of the king, yet a glance back revealed the archers rising and melting into the wood once the company had passed.
Now the rain fell harder, swiftly growing to a downpour, and though a discomfort to all, still t'would aid greatly in obscuring their tracks. Arvedui doubted if t'would be sufficient to obliterate all trace of their flight, but perhaps their numbers would be impossible to calculate. When the company reached a stream that crossed their path, the king led them into the woods on a branch that turned north off the road. There, after but a furlong, they came to a small holding, a hunting lodge of the kings, deserted now, for Arvedui had bidden the caretaker and his family join the flight of the people of Fornost.
The company dismounted and they stabled their horses and entered the lodge. Some food and a few hours sleep they took, whilst those on guard duty watched the road for any sign of pursuit. The rain continued through the remainder of the night and into the next morn, melting away the last of the winter's snow. With each moment, it washed away more of their tracks as well. All hoped that the concentrated run off 'twixt the downs and on the treeless lands 'round the fortress would obscure the direction of their flight even more fully, yet none doubted that eventually they would be discovered.
They had fought well this past night, but they had been too badly outnumbered. Now they would mount a desperate rear guard action to buy more time for their people. They were four dozens, and behind them were perhaps thirty thousand foes, but if any doubted the value of their part, they had but to look o'er and see their king who would gamble his life in their company. 'Twas the morn of 29 Nínui¹. ¹(29 Nínui Even though it sounds like a Leap Day, by our Gregorian calendar, this date would coincide with February 17th. The Sindarin name Nínui is for the 2nd month of the Dúnedain calendar called King's Reckoning that would have been in use in T.A. 1974. That system encompassed a solar year of twelve months, 10 of them having 30 days, and 2 months, (the 6th and 7th), having 31 days. Therefore, in Arthedain, the month of Nínui had 30 days. Additionally, the Númenórean year began at mid-winter, the Winter Solstice, currently falling on or about December 21st. Given all this, 29 Nínui would have been our February 17th, or close to it.)
On that same day, Glorfindel and his three companions were riding down a path into Nanduhirion. Winter in the Hithaeglir had been brutal, cold and windy, but they had endured it far more easily than mortals might have, and they had been far 'neath the elevation of the pass and its frigid, snowcapped peaks. Five months they had spent searching out the dens and warrens of the Yrch, from the High Pass south to the Pass of Caradhras, two hundred twenty-five miles as the Eagle flies. Most of these they had found deserted, emptied either by Helluin, in which case they found corpses and Im belthant huiniath! scrawled on a wall in blood, or in the northernmost, by conscription of the Witch King, in which case, the Yrch had taken their weapons and all else with them. Less than a half-dozen times had they actually found caves inhabited by Yrch. These they had given a wide berth, for their purpose was not to offer battle.
Now they had arrived 'nigh Khazad-dûm, for they thought to ask of the Naugrim if any had seen or heard 'aught of Helluin of late. Down the Dimrill Stair they rode, and the mist crafted a rainbow in the early afternoon sunlight o'er the series of sparking falls down which the water skipped on its way to Kheled-zâram, the Mirrormere. Below them it lay, still and bright 'neath Anor, reflecting the sky and clouds as would any other placid lake seen from that distance. Its reflections only became peculiar when one stood upon its banks.
For another hour they descended 'til they came to the Dwarf Road. This they followed back uphill a short ways, and finally they approached the East Door of Khazad-dûm. When they arrived, the four Eldar dismounted and bowed to the sentries at the Azanulbizar Gate.
"Greetings, noble guardians of the Realm of Durin," Glorfindel said. "We come from Imladris seeking tidings on behalf of our lord, Elrond Peredhel. I am Glorfindel, and with me are the loyal warriors Galadhon, Thórá, and Gwingion."
The sergeant of the guard company came forward and returned the Lord Glorfindel's bow.
"My lord, I am Barkûn son of Ukrafubeshêk¹,Sergeant of the Second Gate Company. Thy name is known in Khazad-dûm from the days of the Last Alliance, and so too is the name of thy lord, Elrond son of Eärendil. Thy voucher of thy companions is acceptable to me, and if ye would have it so, then I bid ye enter the Halls of Durin." ¹(Barkûn son of Ukrafubeshêk, Axe Man son of Bone Breaker Neo-Khuzdul)
"We are honored to accept thy gracious invitation, Barkûn son of Ukrafubeshêk," Glorfindel said.
"Pray follow me then, and perhaps with the favor of Mahal, ye shall hear such tidings as ye seek."
Now Barkûn led his guests through the Dimrill Gate and into the First Hall. To their right was a short passage leading to a guard chamber and an inn. The sergeant took his guests into the common room of the inn where they could be seated together in an informal setting that was out of earshot of the rest of his company.
"This establishment caters to travelers and merchants, and as such, the fare and the ale are quite good," Barkûn said. "Had I ridden from Imladris, I would desire to slake my thirst with a tankard and enjoy some victuals."
Smiles and nods of agreement met his suggestion, and the four Eldar began to relax. 'Twas the first time in many days that they had felt wholly safe. T'would be their first meal in months, other than waybread and some creatures they had hunted, for they would eat 'naught found in the dens of Yrch. Barkûn beckoned o'er a server.
'Twas the innkeep came o'er to their table and greeted the sergeant by name, being obviously long acquainted.
"Barkûn, welcome, my friend. I see that once again thou hast brought esteemed and unusual guests. Thou art blessed by Mahal to encounter so many from the wide world beyond our halls." Then he turned to the four Eldar and extended the welcome of his establishment. "Noble guests, I pray ye find satisfaction in the fare here at my humble inn. 'Tis my honor to serve ye."
"We thank thee, Umrazudilinzillîn¹," Barkûn said, "and though I know not what fare this noble company may desire, I do know that I crave a tankard of thy fine ale." The sergeant looked to the four Elves who nodded in agreement with his selection. ¹(Umrazudilinzillîn, Inn Keeper Neo-Khuzdul)
"Thy ale shall be greatly appreciated, noble Umrazudilinzillîn," Glorfindel said. "We have had 'naught but water for the past five months."
The innkeep nodded to him in sympathy, saying, "after five months I should welcome even the meanest swill, yet the golden ale of this inn is esteemed even by His Highness when he comes to the East Door. I shall return in moments, my thirsty friends."
True to his word, Umrazudilinzillîn returned promptly bearing a tray 'nigh the size of a battle shield, upon which were set five tankards of surprising generosity. He set the tray on their table and distributed the ale with a flourish. Then he drew forth menus from a large pocket in his apron and said, "now I shall leave ye to peruse the selections. Pray beckon to me when your choices are made."
As he walked away, Barkûn o'erheard him muttering, "poor lords must be famished after months of 'naught but gumzablâg, (bushmeat)." The sergeant chuckled at that and then gave his attention to the menu.
Now eventually the party enjoyed portions of beef tenderloin wrapped in thin slices raw cured ham, a duxelles of wild mushrooms, a pâté of goose livers, a paper-thin sheet of fillo dough, and finally, a puff pastry sprinkled with coarse smoked salt. There were side dishes of scalloped potatoes, baked carrots, deep fried sweet onion rings in a batter made with beer, and a loaf of the ubiquitous dark, dense bread with butter. Alas, the season was not good for fresh vegetables.
Ere they finished their meal with complete satisfaction, evening had arrived bringing a growing crowd of diners anticipating a happy hour and then supper. The room hummed with an increasing volume of conversation. Seats were taken and tables filled. The innkeeper and his employees buzzed 'round the room like bees. Having paid for their refreshments, Barkûn led Glorfindel's company back to the guard chamber, and there he took counsel with the Elves so to best find who might provide such tidings as they sought.
"Now if ye know not to whom to address your requests for information, I may be able to make suggestions," the sergeant said, "yet to do so, I would need to know at least some generalities of your needs. If 'tis a privy matter 'twixt the Lord Elrond and some official of Khazad-dûm, then I need not hear 'aught, only a name to send word to."
By this point, Glorfindel deemed Sergeant Barkûn wholly trustworthy, and in any case, his errand was neither urgent after so long afield, nor privy. Indeed, he thought that perhaps an officer at the gates might know as much as any.
"My esteemed host, I deem secrecy unnecessary for our errand. Being one who sees much and hears much of the world outside thy halls, I shall ask thee first, and if any known to thee may know more, I would most deeply appreciate thy counsel and aid."
Barkûn nodded to Glorfindel and said, "I shall aid thee as I can, my noble guest."
"We seek tidings of Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, and indeed we seek for she herself, if that may be. When last we saw her in Eriador, she rode hither seeking clues to the disappearance of her beloved, Beinvír Laiquende. Since that time, none have seen her west of the Hithaeglir, and now war marches upon her allies in Fornost. We have sought for her from the High Pass south, but have found only the scenes of her past slaughters and emptied lairs of the Yrch."
Barkûn nodded and swallowed. She of whom they sought tidings was a legend in Khazad-dûm. All knew the tale of her history with the Longbeards and of the disappearance of the Green Elf as she had made her way from their halls. 'Twas a source of embarrassment that so valuable an ally had been lost so near their mansions. Yet Helluin had come to Hadhodrond after leaving Eriador, and then she had gone to Lórinand. She had not been seen since. Only the rumor of her had been heard o'er the past century.
"My lords, all here know the tale of the disappearance of Beinvír and of Helluin's search for her. At the time Beinvír was lost, we came to understand that she had aided a party of our traders who were slaughtered by Yrch as they made their way north. They were less than a day from our gates."
The sergeant shook his head. Yrch were ne'er so bold as to assail their people so close to Khazad-dûm.
"Now when they were found, amongst the dead Yrch we marked two dozens shot with her arrows, and six more hewn with knives. We found also many more slain by the sword, and so we deemed that Beinvír had aid. No trail of any surviving Yrch was e'er found leading from that place, and so we deem our traders were avenged and Beinvír and her allies were victorious. Yet we have ne'er discovered who those allies were, or whither they went.
A more thorough search revealed 'naught save her travel bag upon the road leading down to the Golden Wood, where she had been expected, but ne'er arrived. These things were told to Helluin when she arrived. His Highness King Durin dispatched soldiers to seek for clues, yet they too found 'naught, even though they sought so far as the High Pass and Fangorn Forest. Since those days, we have learnt no more of Beinvír. Helluin left to make her way to Lórinand, and we have not seen her since."
'Twas already more than they had known in Imladris. Glorfindel dipped his head in thanks to acknowledge the search Barkûn's people had undertaken.
"Noble sergeant, know thy people 'aught of the Ghâshgûl?" Galadhon asked.
For a while, the sergeant sat silent. His command of Orkish was lacking, yet finally he was able to pick out the roots, ghâsh, fire, and gûl, a ghost or wraith. He had not heard of a Fire Wraith aforetime, and so he shook his head, 'nay'.
"Ere we left Imladris, the Lord Elrond and I questioned an Orch from the northern Hithaeglir who had been impressed into the service of Angmar. He chose death rather than venture back to his homelands in search of this Ghâshgûl. During his interrogation, he revealed that the Fire Wraith blazes with the Light of Aman. We deem 'tis Helluin, for no other of our people blaze so brightly."
A grim smile curled the lips of the sergeant and his eyes twinkled. Like most of his people, he sincerely enjoyed 'aught that might torment his peoples' hereditary foes.
"As we made our way south through the mountains from the High Pass, we came upon many Yrch lairs emptied with slaughter, and upon the walls in each was painted in blood the words, 'Im belthant huiniath!', 'I killed them all!' So similar is this to Helluin's battle cry of 'Beltho Huiniath!', that we deem it a certainty that she hath taken upon herself the extermination of all that kindred in the Hithaeglir."
Here no smile would suffice to celebrate the prowess of his peoples' ancient ally. He stamped his feet and pounded the table with both fists.
"For many decades we have marked the threat of those foes reduced," he said later after he had mastered himself, "and indeed they have become scarce. We too have found that same token in dens we had known to be active aforetime, yet had been emptied by slaughter after. But once only was a survivor found, and he close to death."
And here the Elves give Barkûn's words their full attention and he felt the weight of their stares. Yet he was noble and truthful, and he bore their gaze and met their eyes steadily.
"Just ere he died, the Orch spoke, saying, 'Ghâsh gijak-ishi', which our Lord Durin translated as, 'Fire in the Blood'."
The Lord Glorfindel nodded. The Yrch of the Hithaeglir were terrified, and Helluin was bent on genocide. She had no limits of time, and there would be no limit to her wrath, for her loss could not be assuaged. He sighed. She would linger long past the Fading, seeking for foes and living by her sword. T'would not bring her healing, and he understood that for Helluin, there would be no real healing from the loss of Beinvír, a loss that had kindled the fire of vengeance in her blood.
"We bear tidings as well, noble sergeant," Glorfindel said. "To Eriador great evil has come. Our knights are blockaded in Imladris by a force of Men and Yrch, Wargs and wolves, far greater than our own count. When we attempted to answer King Arvedui's call for aid, we were assailed as we issued from the Hidden Valley and our Lord barely escaped the trap. We know not how things stand in Lindon, or in Fornost, save that against the Dúnedain, Angmar again raises its fist. Arvedui's power diminishes, for the count of his Men grows e'er less. We deem that if he is isolated, things could go ill for the North Kingdom of Elendil."
"Thy tidings I shall convey to my officers, and word of these things shall come to our king," Barkûn said. He shook his head. The Dúnedain were ancient allies of their realm, yet so far as he knew, no call for aid had come to Khazad-dûm. Old allies grew estranged, and old friendships grew e'er fainter without renewal. Glorfindel's party had been away from Imladris for five months, and much could have happened in that time. He deemed that he had no more to tell, and they had no more to say. Still, he asked, "whither now, noble warriors of Imladris?"
"From the north we came, and having not found Helluin, 'tis to the south that we shall go," Gwingion said. 'Round him, the others nodded in agreement.
To Be Continued