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.

179. In An Age Before Chapter 179

In An Age Before – Part 179

Now following the creation of their plan for Sûza, Helluin took her leave of Bucca and Weaselgrub in Tuckburrow on the morn of 9 Cerveth, and she rode east on the Stock Road, intending to cross the Baranduin and make her way along the East Road, offering such aid as she could.

Of the four dozen horses that she had taken from the last company of Easterlings, one had chanced to speak with her ere they left Sûza. He was a chestnut stallion with black socks, mane, and tail, who held his neck proudly and named himself Barq, which signified 'Lightning' in the Eastern tongue of his birth.

I am swift and tireless and have come many miles, yet still I would rather run than pull, he said, explaining that, I was bred for battle, not the plow. Pray take me with thee, for thou art a warrior as these Halflings are not, and I would die as I have lived, swift rather than slow. If thou would have me, I shall serve thee with honor.

Helluin had looked him in the eyes and seen the truth in his words. By some chance, Tindomul had enlisted a disgraced minor nobleman who sought adventure and excitement as well as escape from his shame, and he had brought his horse, a scion of a long line of warhorses.

T'would be my honor to have thy company, O Barq, and run thou shalt, the lighter afoot than afore, for I use no saddle, bit, or reins. Come then, we go east in haste.

'Round noon on the 10th, she rode o'er the Bridge of Stonebows, and saw dust rising some miles off. 'Twas too much for a small party of travelers, and indeed few chanced to ride openly in those days, save the minions of the Witch King. With a groan, Helluin turned from the East Road and coaxed Barq into the Old Forest that lay 'nigh along the east bank of the Brandywine. There she found a sheltered copse in which to leave him with assurances of her return, and then she backtracked afoot 'til she found a place of concealment where she had a view of the road.

'Twas not long ere she saw a horde of Yrch and Hillmen marching west, and the only destination in their path was the Shire. The danger she had foreseen was come and she deemed her warning had been heeded in the nick of time. After another quarter hour, the host was passing her and crossing the bridge. At least they would find few if any of the Perianin in Stock. Helluin remained concealed through the afternoon, watching as smoke rose in the East Farthing, yet 'twas not so much as she had expected to see, and certainly not so much as if the Witch King's troops sought to burn the Shire. T'would seem that they recognized the value of the crops that grew there, for harvest time lay but two months ahead and even they had to eat.

After spending the rest of that day 'round Stock, Tindomul's troops recrossed the bridge and camped for the night in the fields just northeast of the Baranduin. Helluin felt that she could reach out and touch the closest of them, and had she not feared to incite them against the Halflings, she would have invaded their camps and slain howe'er many she could. Instead, she only kept a watch on them through the night, and in the morn, she deemed that the Valar had given her a great gift.

As dawn brightened on 11 Cerveth, a company of Yrch and a company of Hillmen moved into the Old Forest, though to what purpose, Helluin knew not. As far as she could reckon, 'twas 'naught of value for such marauders to be found in the wood, only peaceful settings 'neath the shade of leaves, the somnolent buzz of insects, and the musical tinkling of streams. The Ringwraith's soldiers followed paths e'er deeper into the forest, and Helluin came behind them, watchful and intent on mayhem. Ere they had passed a mile 'neath the trees, Helluin had taken the last in their line several times o'er. Along the way, she marked others who had fallen, shot in the eye or throat, unmarked by the rest in the companies for the silence of their deaths.

Now the Yrch and Hillmen came to the banks of a small stream that Helluin knew well. 'Twas one of many tributaries that ran down to the Withywindle as it found its way from the Barrow Downs. She marked the effect on these mortals, just as had been told in the lore of the Perianin. With good reason, they mistrusted the strangeness of the forest. By some enchantment, the Hillmen and Yrch were drawn down the tributary to the river, just as the water coursed e'er on towards Baranduin. Amidst the rhododendrons on the stream bank they stayed their march to take some food, and they stooped to fill drinking skins and flasks. Helluin waited with some dark expectations for their future.

It turned out that she had not long to wait, for a Hillman cried out with glee. A hive he had found, and in it honey, much prized as a source of sweetness, for save the laboriously gathered and concentrated syrup of certain maples, 'twas the only source of concentrated sugar in their world. The Man accepted the stings of many furious bees to snatch a piece of comb, and this he put into his mouth, larvae and all. He was followed by many others, though the Yrch partook not, for that kindred little favored the taste of sweetness. Eventually, well 'nigh all the Hillmen had sampled the honey, and they felt their sojourn into the forest well rewarded.

Indeed 'twas not so, for those who know the ways of bees, as do the skin-changing settlers in the Vale of Anduin, know that in their honey, a colony concentrates the virtue of all such flowers as they sample. 'Nigh this small tributary of the Withywindle, 'twas mostly the rhododendrons that provided their essence. Through thousands of visits to those blossoms, the bees had created from the raw nectar a honey of strong narcotic properties¹. In the months since the spring flowering, evaporation had rendered the honey all the more potent. A spoonful only was required to drag a grown Man into stupor, and a mouthful brought unconsciousness. One by one, the Hillmen dozed off where they sat and could not be roused. ¹(This is akin to the "Mad Honey" of the Black Sea coast in modern Turkey. It is a concentrated form of grayanotoxin and has been known regionally since antiquity. In 67 BC, Roman legions of Pompey the Magnus invaded the Trabzon region of southern Colchis and were poisoned by the followers of King Mithridates VI of Pontus. In the resulting stupor, over a thousand Legionnaires were slain. In 401 BC, the Greek general Xenophon's troops were incapacitated after eating the honey, however they recovered.)

The Yrch were torn 'twixt slaying and despoiling them in their helplessness, or eating them right then and there. Whilst they stood by undecided, a half-dozen fell, shot dead, though none of the archers could be seen. In their resulting moments of panic, Helluin charged into their midst, flinging the Sarchram and then hewing them with Anguirél.

"Vrasulûk!" Helluin screamed as she attacked.

The Yrch recoiled from the sudden horror of her, whilst the Sarchram whizzed from target to target and arrows hissed into their midst. A group of o'er a dozen turned tail and fled back up the path towards to East Road. Helluin gave chase, cackling with glee and screaming, "Beltho Huiniath!" at the top of her lungs. The Yrch couldn't flee her fast enough, and one by one, she cut them down. Behind her, the remaining Yrch brandished their swords and cursed, or desperately fled into the forest. The Laiquendi shot them whether they ran or stood their ground. Ere Helluin returned, they had slain the Hillmen as well.

After cleaning her weapons, Helluin walked back to the stream, well pleased at how things had turned out. Granted, the companies had been but a fraction of the host, but the manner of their death, or more rightly, their disappearance, was good for diminishing the host's morale. When she beheld the dead Men and Yrch, and found the peace and quiet of the forest returning, she took up a discarded flask. Into it, she collected such honey as had been spilt, for she threatened not the hives. By and by, the flask was filled with enough narcotic honey to fell a couple dozens, and she placed it into her travel bag for future use.

Then Helluin returned to the copse where Barq seemed thankful to see her. Together they walked east through the forest 'til they came to the Barrow Downs. These they skirted to the north, and so they came at last back to the East Road, upon which they made haste, hoping to alert the garrison at the crossroads whilst the foe was delayed, futilely looking for the return of their dead.

The road 'twixt the Brandywine Bridge and the crossroads ran for fifty miles, and Helluin arrived at the garrison in the early afternoon of 12 Cerveth. Straightaway she was taken to the captain of the garrison, and she attempted to persuade him to abandon the fortifications and withdraw with his Men and the refugees into the Chetwood. She was astonished when he refused.

"I am a soldier of Arthedain and I have received no orders from the king or my commander requiring me to withdraw," he said. "I command two hundreds in the king's name, to hold the crossroads that no enemies come against Fornost unmarked, whether from east, west, or south."

"Alas, the enemy came from the north. Fornost is long fallen, and were I thee, I would expect no orders from thy king or commander," she said. Helluin saw his adamant expression and sighed, ere adding, "I will tell thee that even now a host of Yrch and Hillmen numbering several thousands advances towards the crossroads from the west. I saw them leaving Sûza but a day past. They shall be here in two days."

The captain blanched at her tidings, but still he would not budge.

"Perhaps behind our walls, and in staunch devotion to our duty, our valor shall render this post less desirable once they find us willing to offer battle. I shall not yield, nor surrender the crossroads uncontested."

"I question not thy devotion to duty, nor thy soldier's valor, yet how shall this post stand when the walls of Fornost fell? I pray thee, on behalf of thy Men and the refugees who shelter behind them, to preserve all such lives as thou can. The Witch King is bent on exterminating the Dúnedain, for he does Sauron's will, and Gorthaur would see every Man of the West in his grave. 'Tis no coincidence that he hath sent his lieutenant against Arthedain again and again."

"Helluin, I know of thy past campaigns against the Witch King. I do not expect victory o'er his host, only do I hope to turn them aside for a time," the captain said. More quietly, he added, "if it be our fate to fall, then I would do so in battle, not rousted out and hounded after, to eventually be run down to our deaths, broken in spirit and despairing of our cause. If we are to die, then we shall die as soldiers of Arthedain and Men of the West."

Helluin could but offer him a grim nod. She had heard such fatalism aforetime.

"In restitution for his defeat by the host of Ciryatur an Age ago, Sauron continues the campaign he began when he corrupted Ar-Pharazôn and brought about the downfall of Númenor. Nor has he forgotten his defeat at Isildur's hand. He holds a seething and unamenable hatred for all the survivors of the Faithful.

I have faced Sauron in combat, and I have defeated the Witch King thrice aforetime. Still they return, and even in defeat, they play a long game of attrition against their mortal foes, whilst they themselves are deathless. Many a valiant sacrifice their victims have made. Many tales celebrate their deaths and much lore recalls their memory, and yet the only victor is the last one standing. I would that thy people survive, for only so shall they endure to the eventual mastery."

Helluin took her leave of him shortly after, and she rode slowly into the Chetwood. 'Twas the only place to which any survivors could flee and the refugees already cowered 'neath the eaves of the forest. And, if she were to find allies anywhere 'nigh, t'would be in the forest. To that end, she made her way to the entrance of the narrow defile that led to the sheltered valley wherein the hamlet of Combe lay hid. 'Twas the singular defensible settlement in the Bree-land.

After taking the measure of the land and viewing the heights of Bree hill that rose up, encompassing the valley of Combe, she made her way a furlong into the Chetwood, curried her horse, and set a hunter's camp. O'er a trench fire, she began to roast a brace of quail that she had snared 'nigh one of the small fields cultivated by the Men of Combe. There she awaited nightfall, and perhaps the arrival of visitors drawn by the scent of cooking food.

Now the stars kindled as the sky darkened, and she sensed the approach of three whose feet made no sound. 'Twas as she'd learnt long ago. Beinvír's people could only be marked by their fëar, for when they desired it so, their hröar were invisible to the physical senses.

Excellent, she thought, Green Elves tarry in the Chetwood.

"Be welcome to my camp and share the One's bounty with me this night," she whispered.

The Laiquendi lessened their stealth and one replied, "mae govannen, Mórgolodh, gladly shall we join thee."

Soon two ellyn and an elleth sat with her 'round the trench fire, and as was their custom, they added a skin of wine, a sack of apples, and waybread to the feast.

"The One has been generous to us this night," the elleth said, smiling. "I am Mielin¹ and my two companions are Lágrandir and Anthrín²." ¹(Mielin, (f) Cat's Song = miel(f. cat) + lind(tune, melody) The final –nd becomes –n at the end of proper nouns. Sindarin) ²(Lágrandir, Green Wanderer = laeg(green) + randir(wanderer) The diphthong –ae becomes á in proper names. Anthrín, Long Memory = and(long) + rín(memory) The –d at the partition of a proper name becomes –th. Sindarin)

"Mae govannen, Mielin, Lágrandir, and Anthrín," Helluin said. "I have tidings as well as food to share."

Mielin sharpened the ends of several sticks and impaled apples on them, then set them o'er the fire to bake. Anthrín crumbled some waybread and minced an apple, then added some spices from a pouch and some wine to make a stuffing to enhance the birds.

Lágrandir asked, "pray share thy tidings, Mórgolodh, for much is afoot in these lands and we too have seen many things of late."

Now the four Elves sat, sharing the wine and their tidings as they waited for their food to cook.

"I have come from Mithlond by way of Sûza," Helluin reported, "and the force blockading Lindon was halved ere I took my leave upon 1 Cerveth. I came to the Shire on the 4th, and with Bucca of the Marish, convinced the Periannath to hide from the soldiers of Angmar. Those forces arrived at the Bridge of Stonebows on the 10th and spent a day in the East Farthing ere they withdrew back o'er the bridge. They camped o'ernight 'nigh the border and in the morn of the 11th, deployed a company of Hillmen and a company of Yrch into the Old Forest. With the aid of thy people, we slew all and then I rode for the Bree-land. Earlier this afternoon, I failed to prevail upon the captain of the crossroads garrison to abandon his post and seek shelter in the Chetwood. Alas, I fear he and all his folk shall be slain, for the Yrch and Hillmen number several thousands and shall drive the Dúnedain hence."

The three Green Elves sat a while in silence digesting her words.

"'Tis good tidings that the enemy outside of Lindon is so reduced," Lágrandir finally said. "I deem the winter shall be harsh for them, and in the spring they may be swept away at last."

Mielin and Anthrín nodded in agreement.

"Since the Fall of Fornost and the flight of the king, our people have sought to do likewise outside of Imladris," Anthrín said. "Our company would have joined them, but we were ordered to reinforce those already keeping watch on the Periannath of the Bree-lands."

"A long duty your people have maintained in guarding them," Helluin observed. She recalled Dálindir having ordered that watch at Mithrandir's request, when the Halflings had first entered Eriador in T.A. 1050.

"'Tis a long and boring duty save in times of war," Mielin muttered.

"What count of your folk are deployed hither?" Helluin asked.

After a moment's thought, Mielin said, "two dozens watch Bree proper, with a dozen 'nigh Staddle and another dozen of us roaming the Chetwood 'twixt Archet and Combe where the Halflings are few."

"I came amongst the two hundreds sent by Gwilolrán following the Fall of Fornost," Anthrín said. "Most have come to the Chetwood, deeming it to have the best cover and being 'nigh the crossroads."

"These are very good tidings," Helluin said, smiling at the possibilities she imagined. "In two days time, the garrison shall be o'errun, and with the refugees, any surviving soldiers shall flee hither. They shall have nowhere else to go, yet I deem they shall be pursued, for the Witch King's goal is the extermination of the Dúnedain.

I would that we make them fear the Chetwood as they now fear the Old Forest, so that they recall their tales of terror and defeat from of old and turn aside."

By now the dinner was well cooked. Helluin, Mielin, Anthrín, and Lágrandir divided the food and set to their repast. After spending some minutes to amend the worst of their hunger, Lágrandir asked about reminding the Yrch of their lore.

"Mórgolodh, to promote their terror, shalt thou fling into their camps the heads of their slain?"

"If necessary, I shall fling into their midst whole bodies…piecemeal," Helluin replied with the hint of a grin as the Green Elves blanched. In fact, she did not intend to spend precious time dismembering the dead. "I hope t'will be enough to assail them unheard and slaughter them unseen."

Now the host of Hillmen and Yrch arrived at the crossroads on 14 Cerveth after a march of two and one half days, and they met the captain's defiance with savagery. The garrison was o'errun in under an hour. There they slaughtered eight of ten defenders and drove the rest into the Chetwood in a rout. Along with the refugees, the survivors fled blindly into the forest, and absent their officers, they sought neither to regroup, nor to protect the civilians. The Yrch declined to enter the Chetwood, but several hundred of the Hillmen gave chase, running down some and hounding the rest afterwards 'neath the eaves of the forest. They cut down soldiers and civilians ruthlessly and without distinction, for all were Dúnedain.

The Hillmen had passed only fifty yards into the Chetwood ere they began to fall, yet in the headlong rush of their pursuit, they marked not their losses. The deeper they went into the forest, the more separated they became 'til they had broken into many bands, each chasing down a soldier or two, or a small group of refugees, families perhaps, who fled in terror for their lives. So 'twas no surprise when a band here or a band there were shot dead, or hewn by sword or Ring, and were lost and came ne'er back to the host at the crossroads. The battle cries and the screams of the victims died away o'er the course of an hour, and then silence was restored in the wood at last.

'Twas long ere the host even marked their absence, for they had taken to feasting and reveling as victors are wont to do. Yet as evening drew down and the shadows spread 'neath the boughs and boles, the captain wondered whither his troops had gone and when they would return. Fewer than two score soldiers of Arthedain had escaped, and the refugees were unarmed. The slaughter should have been completed in a couple hours, yet they were gone now for 'nigh four.

"Send a company to fetch our Men," the captain of the Hillmen ordered, yet the commander of the Yrch stayed him and they spoke together in urgent whispers.

"Send soldiers and you'll ne'er see them again," the Orch said. "Remember the ones that vanished in the Old Forest 'nigh the Shire? Tales tell of the same unseen gûl here."

The Hillman looked at the Orch. He had assumed that his missing troops and the Yrch had agreed to desert together and had doubled back to lord it o'er the Halflings and enjoy their bountiful land.

"All the forests in these lands are haunted by killers, and they are impossible to slay. They were here before the Nazgûl. They have afflicted us in every campaign for an Age. I would not go into that wood for any sport or spoil."

"And what of my Men who gave chase?" The Hillman asked.

"They are already dead," the Orch told him with certainty ere he stalked off to rejoin the feast.

So 'twas that the captain of the Hillmen sent forth none to seek for their missing comrades, and those who had gone in aforetime were ne'er seen again.

The Yrch and the Hillmen spent the night reveling and ransacking the garrison. They spent the next day recovering and resting. On 16 Cerveth they spent the day burning and razing the walls and buildings, and when all was ruined, they marched south and then east on the 17th, intent on searching Bree and Staddle for any surviving Dúnedain.

Now following the battle in the afternoon of the 14th, Helluin and the Green Elves gathered and tended such of the surviving soldiers and refugees as they could find cowering in the Chetwood. Some of them chose to stay in Archet and some in Combe. These were mostly the wounded and the elderly, or wives who had children and were bereft of their husbands. Yet some families, single Men, and most of the soldiers chose to leave the Bree-land when Helluin bid them flee east to outpace the host of Angmar.

"I deem they shall not march this day or the next," she told the gathered Dúnedain, "for they shall not pass up the chance to feast and destroy all they can. They shall then seek for foes in Bree and probably Staddle as well, ere they march east to embattle the garrisons at Weathertop and the Weather Hills. Ye shall have three to four days grace ere any pursuit, and in that time, I bid you make your way through northern Cardolan and 'cross the Lone Lands. Stay south of the road and return to it only to cross the Last Bridge. Once beyond Mitheithel, leave the road and march south into The Angle of Rhudaur. Thither, I wager, ye shall meet friends."

'Twas a march of nine score miles and would probably take them a fortnight or more, but 'twas the only path to safety that she could foresee. Perhaps they would shelter amongst the Rangers of Rhudaur, and one day, even aid in breaking the siege of Imladris, yet that thought, Helluin kept to herself.

After the horrors they had just endured, the people were eager to be away, and they followed Helluin south through the forest at the crack of dawn on the 15th. Whilst the Hillmen tended to their hango'ers and the Yrch to the burning and defacement of the buildings, some four score and five Dúnedain escaped. At the end of that day's walk, they came to the Great East Road, for they had marched 'round the east side of Bree-hill, bypassing Staddle. There Helluin bid them farewell and good fortune.

"Here I must leave you, for I ride in haste to warn the soldiers at Amon Sûl and the Weather Hills. I counsel you to cross the road into the southern Chetwood ere turning east. I doubt the enemy will seek for you there as those heading south take the Greenway through Andrath, and those heading east, the East Road. Make haste and light no fires this night. Be wary if ye must light fires after. The further south of the road your path, the lesser your danger shall be."

After seeing some nods of understanding, Helluin turned Barq onto the road and galloped east into the dimming evening. Through the gathering darkness they rode, and Helluin asked how far Barq would be willing to travel that night.

I have spent the last day walking the forest or standing hidden during the battle. I need to run. Shall we continue 'til we pass the Last Inn, a score and five east of Bree? A full day's lead on those marching behind thou shalt then have.

"T'would be greatly appreciated, O Barq. Thou dost indeed earn thy name, two score and ten from Baranduin to Bree in little more than a day."

'Twas traveled on a road that I could run in my sleep, Barq said, and thou art light to bear, O Helluin, for thou sits well with neither saddle, nor tack. I bore a cavalryman from Scythia to Eriador o'er plain, through forest, and 'neath mountains. I feel I bear now not half that weight.

"Thou came from far east of Rhûn," Helluin said, "a longer journey than I have made in three Ages of the world."

I was foaled on the steppe 'nigh Xwârazm. The miles from here to the Sea of Rhûn are barely a half of that distance.

"Tell me somewhat of thy birthplace to pass the time," Helluin asked, and so they spoke as the hours and the miles passed, trading tales of their journeys.

In the second hour past midnight, they came to the Last Inn, a modest stone structure of one story with a couple outbuildings of wood. It sat just back from the road 'cross a gravel lot where were a hitching rail and watering trough. The yellow light of candles and oil lamps brightened the windows along the façade.

"Pray await me," Helluin said. "I shall not be long."

Helluin dismounted and after entering, made her way to the common room. But a handful of guests sat at the tables, drinking, smoking, and talking. At the bar stood a Man of Eriador and a serving wench, quietly attending to the cleaning of glasses ere closing for the night. Both looked her o'er, wondering if she would offer trouble.

"Good sir, I bear tidings most grave," she said to the Man. "Art thou the proprietor?"

"Aye, that I am. Abel Duckworth at your service."

"Master Duckworth, I come with warnings from Bree-hill. On the 14th, a host of Hillmen and Yrch worsted the garrison at the crossroads. They number several thousands and shall come east down the road in the next couple of days, on their way to embattle Weathertop. I bid thee, be ware."

The Man nodded and his eyes were serious, though he was not ruled by fear.

"I thank thee for thy tidings, warrior, and I bid thee good fortune. We survived the invasions from Angmar an' the wars 'twixt Rhudaur, Cardolan, and Arthedain ere that. I'll close up for a few days an' bring my family into the hills, but I wager we'll be back an' open for business in a week or two, just like my great-grandpa did in '51."

To this, Helluin nodded. 'Twas the common peoples' wisdom and far greater than the captain at the crossroads had shown. She bid him good luck and a good night.

Returning to Barq in the lot, Helluin mounted and they rode another two furlongs east ere they stopped for the night, 'nigh a small stream a furlong south of the road. There Helluin made a cold camp and ate some waybread and an apple lefto'er from the previous night's supper.

Whyfor dost thou camp in the wild when an inn lies but a quarter mile west? Barq asked.

"For several causes," Helluin said. "First, I hope Master Duckworth shall take his family and flee in the morn, and a guest would mean serving breakfast, cleaning a room, and even providing for thee in his stables. Second, I wish to be off 'nigh dawn, for haste is needed. I hope to prevail upon the soldiers at Amon Sûl and in the Weather Hills to take the road east to The Angle, and if they shall do so, then we shall travel with them. And third, I am simply more at home on the ground and in the wild than in the houses of Men. 'Tis the long habit of a wanderer."

Helluin's reasoning Barq accepted as he was not so favoring of strange stables himself, having grown up on the open steppes. He did have one further question, though.

Thou also sent the refugees east to The Angle. What lies therein that makes thee believe that safety too can be found in that land?

"'Tis not so much what as whom," Helluin answered. "Five centuries past, a nation arose in the fallen realm of Rhudaur when the Men of Twilight reclaimed their realm from Angmar. There dwelt the king of those Men, whose line comes down even from the First Age, and with him, cadres of Rangers who hunt as do the Green Elves. If any place in the lands that were once Arnor shall provide succor and haven to the Dúnedain, t'will be there."

Barq nodded, then went to drink from the stream and crop some grass, whilst Helluin reclined on a ground cloth of rat skins from the Hithaeglir and watched the stars.

As dawn began to brighten the heavens, Barq came to Helluin and saw that she was rousing from her repose. Unlike his previous rider, who had taken any opportunity to be at his ease, she seemed to conduct herself with purpose and decisiveness, which to his mind meant, as a warrior. They were trotting east on the road in the quarter part of an hour.

What mileage lies ahead to Amon Sûl? He asked after a short while.

"'Tis some three score and ten from the Last Inn to Weathertop," Helluin answered. "I hope to come thither on the morrow."

I smell a marsh on the breeze. Know thou 'aught of such ahead?

"Indeed so. 'Tis the Midgewater Marshes, a morass of stagnant water, reeds, and biting flies, with pools of quicksand and shoals of silt most treacherous. They lie fifteen miles ahead and stretch for another fifteen miles 'nigh the road."

Barq bared his teeth and snorted at the description and said, I would favor bypassing such a place in haste, and if t'would please thee, then I shall make two score miles this day, leaving but a score and ten for the morrow.

"T'would please me indeed, O Barq. Camping within a league of that miserable place without a smoky fire is a torment, for 'aught of warm blood draw clouds of midges and gnats."

In the fourth hour past dawn, they began to see the darker lands of the marshes drawing 'nigh on their left and Barq broke into a canter. Another hour brought them to the western margin of the swamp and the horse increased his pace to a comfortable gallop. Much to Helluin's surprise, he maintained that pace for o'er an hour unbroken ere returning to a canter and then finally to a trot. By then, 'twas just after noon and they had left the Midgewater Marshes behind.

"We have come past the marshes. Well done, O Barq. Rest at thy convenience now, for the day is still high, with many hours of light remaining."

Know thou 'aught of fresh water 'nigh? I find myself thirsty.

"If memory serves, a small freshet lies just south of the road within the next mile," Helluin said. "I doubt there is much flow now in high summer, but some wholesome water should be available."

For a while they sought for the creek, eventually finding it, though indeed there was barely a trickle of water flowing. Helluin pulled a large rock free from the edge of the streambed, making a drinking basin for Barq into which the water pooled. The horse drank his fill and soon they returned to the road and continued on their way.

When the evening drew down, they sought for a place 'nigh the road with both fresh water and fodder. The landscape had grown drier after passing the marshlands, but with a bit of searching, they found a good site for their night's camp. As on the previous night, Helluin reviewed memories and viewed the stars, and in the morn, they took to the road at dawn on the 18th.

Now when noon came, Barq had borne Helluin eastwards for five hours. They turned off onto the road that wound 'round the base of Amon Sûl and soon came to a guard outpost that stood at the foot of the track that climbed to the ruins of the tower. There Helluin named herself and explained her errand to the sentries, and they allowed her to pass.

Looking up, Helluin recalled coming to the battle in 1409 ere the tower was o'errun, when she had met with Mallar, last King of Cardolan, and retrieved the Palantír of Amon Sûl. She had delivered the Seeing Stone to the young King Araphor in Fornost. Weathertop still appeared as a tall and roughly conical hill, but the top had been sheared flat when in days of old, the Dúnedain had leveled it to set the foundation of the sturdy Tower of Wind. That foundation was all that remained now of the five hundred foot tower, just a circle of heavy blocks spanning a diameter of one hundred feet, and within which sheltered cruder buildings raised with rubble and wood to house a garrison and watch post. Helluin shook her head, remembering the view from fifteen hundred feet above the plains of western Rhudaur. Now Barq and Helluin took the climbing road, which ascended a thousand feet to the summit in a succession of switchbacks that lay along the northwestern slopes.

As their viewpoint rose, they could see the line of the Weather Hills stretching off to the north, with the banked causeway that stretched from the southernmost fort to Amon Sûl, providing a raised and paved way for the passage of cavalry, and more importantly, supply wagons. From the time of their creation in the reign of Argeleb, the forts had been supplied from the East Road, by way of the tower. Beyond that fort, the way hid amongst the western feet of the hills, where it wound through hollows and 'twixt boulders, e'er seeking to deceive prying eyes.

At last, Helluin and Barq came to the flattened summit of Weathertop, and there the Noldo met with the captain of the garrison, who was also commander of the forts. In all, he led four hundred fifty soldiers, fifty staffing each of the seven forts, and one hundred garrisoned at Amon Sûl. At Helluin's appearance in his small office, he gaped at her in shock for a heartbeat ere quickly rising to his feet and offering a bow.

Helluin returned his bow and was about to offer her tidings, but the captain spoke first, still shocked by her presence.

"Lady Helluin, it hath been long since last I saw thee. I am Captain Úcúnon¹, and in 1851, I was a young infantryman assigned to the western barricade. I stood with the thirty-five hundred and our allies from Lindon as the Host of Angmar charged on the last night of battle. We expected a hard fight, but the king's tactics won the field, and then thou appeared, opposing the Witch King alone." ¹(Úcúnon, Unbowed Oneú-(neg. pref.) cún(adj. bowed) -on(agent suff., n on adj) Sindarin)

The captain shook his head, and the feelings of amazement that had lived in his heart for a century and a quarter were writ plainly upon his face.

"Thou must understand, he is our worst foe and our worst fear, unkillable by Men, and yet…," he trailed off, unable to find appropriate words, and instead set his hand o'er his heart and bowed his head to the Noldo. "Whatsoe'er I can do to aid thee I shall do, if 'tis within my power."

Helluin regarded Captain Úcúnon. A far different Man was he than the captain of the crossroads garrison. If she could save him and his soldiers, t'would be a great boon to the Dúnedain after.

"Captain Úcúnon, I come with dire tidings and hope of preserving the lives of thee and thy Men. A host of several thousand Hillmen and Yrch has o'errun the garrison at the crossroads and are now hunting the Bree-land for Men of the West. They are bent on genocide and shall leave none alive. I deem thou hast not the count of soldiers to meet and defeat them, and 'neath their assault, this high position would become thy death trap. Likewise, the isolated forts shall be o'errun, one after another.

I pray thee, issue orders withdrawing thy Men that they may survive to fight another day, for this war is not ended despite the fall of Fornost. I have met with Prince Aranarth, Queen Fíriel, and the younger prince and princess in Mithlond. Though the fate of King Arvedui is still unknown, he was last seen fleeing into the far north, not slain. The royal line survives and an Heir of Isildur yet lives. There is still hope."

Without protest or uncertainty, the captain asked, "how long ere they arrive?"

"I left Bree-hill on the 15th, in the afternoon following the battle, whilst the host still lingered at the crossroads razing the fortifications there. I deem they spent at least two more days scouring Bree and Staddle ere taking to the road. Thou should have at least two days' grace ere they can come hither."

Captain Úcúnon nodded his thanks for Helluin's tidings and then called for his lieutenant. The junior officer arrived shortly, saluted his captain, stared at the Noldo, and then recovered himself and offered her a bow.

"Lieutenant, I am ordering the immediate withdrawal of all troops in the hill forts. They are to mount and ride hither with all haste. 'Aught that they deem sensitive is to be brought or burned."

The lieutenant stared at his captain in disbelief.

"Now! Lieutenant!"

The officer jerked off a parting salute and fled the office. A few minutes later, they heard shouted orders and horses leaving the garrison. The captain shook his head and offered Helluin a wry smile.

"Just this morn I had told them that we were the last defense of Arthedain and would stand our station 'til ordered otherwise." He chuckled at that and then asked, "whither shalt we go? All I have heard tells that Arthedain is fallen and the Witch King's troops roam the countryside."

"Captain, there is but one fastness of free Men left in Eriador. I ride thither and would that thy soldiers repair thither as well. For long years, The Angle in the old realm of Rhudaur has been an independent holding 'neath the Kings of Eriador, Men of Twilight who were loyal to the Dúnedain kings. In the mid-1400s, my beloved and I trained their warriors in the ways of the Laiquendi, and as did the Rangers of Cardolan aforetime, the Rangers of Rhudaur reclaimed their lands from the remnants of Angmar."

The captain thought on Helluin's suggestion. He knew little of modern Rhudaur, had heard 'naught of a King of Eriador, and had learnt no lore telling of the Rangers. Finally, he shrugged and said, "well, we certainly can't go north."

The captain's jest was familiar, and from memory, Helluin recalled when it had been spoken aforetime. O'er five and one-half thousand years had passed. As they had fled the Fall of Gondolin, Tuor son of Huor had spoken those same words as the refugees had gathered in Idril's tunnel and taken counsel for their path. Not only were the words the same, but the cause was the same as well. To the north lay Fornost and the Witch King, whilst to the north of Gondolin had lain Thangorodrim and Morgoth. A smile graced her face. The Song…we too shall escape.

To Be Continued