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.

181. In An Age Before Chapter 181

In An Age Before – Part 181

Now whilst the evening meal had grown awkward in Celenhár, in the Blue Mountains far to the north, meal times had grown desperate. Gwaeron had ended and the month of Gwirith had opened as King Arvedui and his four Men ate the remainder of their last horse. 'Twas a stringy beast, well muscled for the charge rather than well marbled for the table. Still, 'twas all they had to eat, and when the last meat had been stripped from the bones, and those were picked clean of marrow, they wondered how they would survive. Of the five Dúnedain, all bore swords, one a spear, and two their bows, though after the battles with the Yrch and Easterlings, those two had 'naught but three arrows 'twixt them. It fell to one of the other soldiers to contrive a solution.

With hair from the mane and tail of the last horse, and by bending the pin of a broach, Barasron¹ an infantryman who had served on the southern wall at Fornost, wove a line and fabricated a hook with which to angle in the chill waters of a pool at the foot of the mountains 'nigh the mine in which they huddled. The ground was hard, still frozen even at the start of the fourth month of the year, and so he was forced to dig deep ere finding 'aught with which to bait his hook. Had he known the ease that his counterpart in the cavalry had enjoyed whilst fishing in the lake amidst the Emyn Uial, he would have been quite envious. ¹(Barasron, Fiery One = baras(adj fiery, eager) + -ron(n on adj suff) Sindarin)

Still, after much shivering and many curses, and dogged perseverance foremost, Barasron was finally able to catch several fish. These were of no species he knew, but they were alive and they would provide a meal, for with hunger, any finickiness at table had evaporated. His catch was greeted with muted enthusiasm, but the king said words of thanksgiving o'er the fillets after they were roasted on an open fire of dry scrub gleaned from amongst the tailings accumulated downslope of the mine head. The fire smelled acrid, the fish tasted terrible, and their meal was cursed with a plentitude of bones. Within minutes though, all had been consumed.

The celebrated angler Barasron was out shivering in the cold at the pool again the next day. Another infantryman, Talagant¹ collected firewood and filled water skins, whilst the archers Nohadan² and Annuiél³ went scouting in the lowlands northeast of the mine. The king kept watch from higher up on the mountain, hoping to mark any other source of food. Thus, a fortnight passed as they endured cold days with bad meals, acrid campfires, frigid water, and few tidings. They saw no others, and save for a few birds circling high and far off, 'naught of potential game. ¹(Talagant, Harper Sindarin) ²(Nohadan, Family Man = nos(family, clan) + adan(man of the 3 houses) At the partition in proper names –s becomes -h Sindarin) ³(Annuiél, Western Star = annui(western) + él(star) Sindarin)

By some chance, 'twas Barasron who discovered their next source of prey. Whilst digging e'er deeper for bait, his right leg disappeared thigh deep into a void 'neath the ground. His foot stopped upon something soft, from which he recoiled by reflex. After frantically jerking his leg out of the hole, he examined the void, finding it to be the wintering den of a family of marmots, one of which his foot had landed upon. The creature was so sleep addled that it barely marked being trod on, and with three others of its kind, was dispatched by the soldier's sword and hauled out of the burrow.

King Arvedui and his soldiers greeted the angler's triumph with jubilation, for none of them had been enamored of the fish. Straightaway the marmots were skinned and dressed, their pelts to be worked into leather for mittens with their pale grey fur turned in, and their meat roasted or cached. One of the soldiers who had been scouting knew the animals and their habits.

"They are 'naught but large squirrels at heart," Annuiél said, "and spring is 'nigh. If there are others to hand, they shall be soon to wake, for see how skinny these are? They have consumed their autumn fat whilst dozing the winter through. I deem that we should make at least a cursory search for other dens whilst the creatures are still dull-witted and easy to catch."

To his counsel all enthusiastically agreed, and the next day the marmot hunt began. Ere the week was done, they had discovered another two dens, and dug out another seven marmots. Along with the meat, they were all now provided with mittens and the last pelt was scraped of hair and cut into thongs.

By then the month of Gwirith had come to an end and the month of Lothron had opened. At last the weather warmed a bit, though the nights' chill was little improved. Whilst going about their tasks, the soldiers marked a few marmots arisen from their dens. These seemed disheveled, emaciated, and ill tempered. Any approach by the Men resulted in sharp whistles that carried far, and the disappearance of all the others that lingered 'nigh. They also marked that at least one marmot in every group would sit upright keeping watch, much as they themselves did. In any case, once awake, they were far more difficult to catch.

The month of Lothron featured a greening of the mountain terrain 'nigh the old Dwarf mine. During those same weeks, the Nazgûl's Men, Yrch, and Tor labored at the deforestation of the Northern Fortress. In the Blue Mountains, the marmots grew fat and the Men found edible plants as well. Young dandelion leaves, wood sorrel, and the buds of meadow salsify were gathered and treated as swiftly cooked leaf vegetables. Even a few clumps of wild strawberries were found where patches of sunlight fell on rich soil. The soldiers recognized their bright yellow flowers, their serrated leaves, and shortly after, the appearance of the bright red fruit. By carefully retrieving their three arrows, the bowmen managed to shoot a few more marmots, which were rapidly gaining weight, and an occasional brown hare.

One further bit of good fortune came ere Lothron ended. During his lookout upslope from the mine, King Arvedui espied movement yet further uphill. With the greatest care, he advanced to take the measure of this potential foe. What he found was much more welcome. There, grazing on young, green grasses was a small herd of eight horned animals, though from a distance, the king was unsure if they were goats or antelope. By his best guess, they stood less than a ranga in height with coats of grey darkening to a deep brown summer hue, and that coloration was carried as a stripe upon the white fur of their faces. Their horns were short, curved back at the tips, and they bore a very short mane that ran all the way down the center of their backs. He returned to the mine in haste and sought the counsel of his bowmen.

The trio returned to find the animals still slowly eating their way through the stand of grass. Carefully staying downwind, they worked their way into archery range. Then, when they able to see the creatures more clearly, they marked that 'twas a herd of females. They discounted three that appeared pregnant and concentrated on the two nearest. Targets were chosen, bows were slowly drawn, and arrows carefully aimed. The king knelt facingAnnuiél and Nohadan, and at a subtle nod from each, he nodded back and both released their arrows as one.

The further animal staggered and then dropped, cleanly shot dead. The closer animal staggered to follow the rest of the herd as they fled, bounding out of sight in moments. The third and final arrow dropped it and it lay still. At first, the king and his archers could barely believe that they had managed to bag o'er a hundred pounds of meat. They stared at each other as if they had ne'er met, and then they gave a great whoop of joy and ran to check on their kills.

Now the chamois were an unfamiliar species to them. They were close in size to the domesticated goats they knew, but their horns and pelts were different. Still, they were akin close enough to be recognizable. The hunters slit their bellies, dumped their entrails, and carried the carcasses back downhill to the mine. There they were skinned and butchered. They found the meat quite tasty and hoped to hunt the animals again. Alas, chamois move to high pastures in summer, and the herd they had encountered had lingered longer than normal 'neath the tree line, a behavior that the creatures were now convinced had been a fatal miscalculation.

The king and his soldiers spent the remainder of Lothron feasting on the chamois, and after the leather was processed, they were impressed with its softness and fine quality. Eventually the meat ran out though, and no more of the animals were found to be hunted. Hunger resumed.

The month of Nórui opened, and as Tindomul ordered the Tor to break the inner gate of Fornost, the king looked out from the Ered Luin. From those heights, he marked the open water glinting now on the Bay of Forochel some four leagues to the north. Upon their arrival, it had been solidly covered with ice. There he saw many sea birds circling, and whither birds circled, there was food to draw them. As the Men could no longer count on marmots or chamois for their sustenance, Arvedui deemed it time for a longer hunting trip and a wider exploration. The Dúnedain would visit the coast.

Now it should be noted that though they were but two hundred fifty miles north of Fornost, they were well west of the fortress and on the shore of a bay that connected with the sea. Of old, the Anfauglith, which had lain southwest of the Bay of Forochel, had been a land grown cold, with chill winds and bitter winters. They were far north of the remains of Dorthonion that Helluin had encountered whilst visiting Tol Fuin. Somewhere, sunken 'neath the icy waters of the bay, lay the ruins of Melkor's first fortress, Utumno. Indeed, with the reshaping of Arda after the sinking of Númenor, they were now as far north as Morgoth's fortress of Angband, and they had no longer the volcanoes of Thangorodrim to maintain the land's warmth. At the northern end of the Blue Mountains, Anor traveled lower than they were accustomed, the days remained short even as spring turned to summer, and the light was weak, a pallid yellow that to each Man's eyes left his comrades looking vaguely unwell.

On 8 Nórui, the king's soldiers packed all they deemed necessary for scouting and hunting, and they descended from the mine. The way had become familiar o'er the past two months, but once they struck the flat lands that sloped down to the bay, 'twas unfamiliar territory and they went forward more warily. They took their time, examining the terrain during their march. Most of the land was sheathed in low plants such as sedges and grasses, bearberry, diamond leaf, rock willow, bilberry and other prostrate shrubs, and groundcovers such as saxifrage and pasque flower. Where bare rock showed, lichens spread to cover the surface, and everywhere else there grew a variety of mosses with arctic moss and caribou moss the most plentiful. In a few places, stunted trees managed to survive the cold and wind, dwarf birch and balsam poplar amongst them. They also found bogs of peat, treacherous, though in places still partially solid from the permafrost. 'Twas a landscape far removed from the forests further south, and even from the North Downs. Although the landscape undulated, 'twas far more open country than any they had lived in aforetime, and with its lack of tall vegetation, left little cover for hunters.

Evening found them approaching the shore, and whilst still a couple furlongs back from the water, they made a minimal camp in which to spend the night. The king sought to observe the shoreline and water from dawn to dusk in hope of discerning the behavior of any possible prey. All agreed that beginning a hunt at nightfall in a strange land was folly, and so they hunkered down in the lee of a lichen-covered boulder. There they drew lots for the watch and took turns sleeping. They found the sounds of the water lulling and they marked 'naught threatening through the night.

Dawn came and the Men roused themselves and moved with care to a good vantage point from which to watch the shore. The scene they saw was a mix of familiar and bizarre. As on any coast in Middle Earth, mews wheeled o'erhead, opportunistically plucking 'aught that moved upon which to feed, both on land and sea. Several species of auks and murres joined gannets in diving for fish. Peculiar were the cadres of fat but streamlined birds that waddled upright on land, swam in the water, and ne'er flew. These were of several sizes, but all were black on their backs and heads with white breasts, and strangely, they had flippers for wings.

Of greater practical interest were the diving ducks, the black and white scaup and eider that floated in large flocks amidst the waves. The Men would seek for their nests ashore, both for their eggs and for the birds themselves. Some of these they had already seen, eiders sitting atop clutches of eggs in bowl-shaped nests of their own down. The scaup were more difficult to find, having built their saucer-shaped nests of stems and leaves amidst the grasses that grew 'nigh the shore. That first night at the coast, the oft-reused arrows bagged two eider and the Dúnedain ate well, roasting the large, heavy-bodied ducks. The archers Annuiél and Nohadan had been surprised that the birds had only watched them as they approached, reacting not to the Men 'til they were shot from a distance of but two fathoms with only a partial draw of their bows. Alas, their eggs were too developed to be eaten, save at great need, which none felt that night.

The king and his soldiers passed the months of Nórui and Cerveth 'nigh the shore of the Bay of Forochel. They moved their camp every couple of days, proceeding south and then east o'er that time along the coast for some thirty leagues. Proximity to the water conferred the benefit of a 'nigh constant breeze, and this proved invaluable in reducing the clouds of mosquitoes and biting flies to a bearable level. The Men hunted as they went, becoming e'er more familiar with the animals of that land, but Barasron also fished when he could, though he had no pole, or an abundance of line. 'Twas high summer and the land provided what it could.

Two times only did King Arvedui and his Men hunt 'aught larger than the ducks. The first time came in the second week of Cerveth. As the Hillmen and Yrch came to the Shire, the Dúnedain espied a small herd of caribou some half-mile distant, grazing their way 'cross the tundra in their pre-rut migration. The largest bulls were a hand's length o'er a ranga in height at the withers and the best guess of their weight was 'round three hundred-fifty pounds. The cows were perhaps two-thirds their size. All the adults bore antlers, far larger in the males than the females at that time of year, and still covered in velvet. The herd comprised about three dozen animals representing both genders and all ages including recently weaned calves.

Now the caribou were slowly traveling a path that wound through the undulating terrain with no visible rhyme or reason. The route seemed dictated by 'naught but tradition, having probably been used o'er many centuries by generations of the animals. Indeed the land was criss-crossed with such trails, perhaps each patronized by a particular herd. Those most inclined to the hunt could mark the probably path of the animals, and so they chose two sites from which they would be able to shoot. The company split up, one bowman in each party, and they hastened hence to take cover and wait.

That wait was longer than expected. With the breeze and the reduction of the torment from the clouds of insects, the caribou were in no hurry. They grazed on just about anything that grew and only slowly made their way down the path. After an hour, the herd finally came to a fork in their trail that had dictated the hunters' positions so that they would be placed to cover both branches. As the animals moved onto the path that led more closely to the shore, the king and the two hunters with him groaned. The animals were heading towards Nohadan and Talagant, who had taken a position behind a group of boulders surrounded by tussocks of grass and covered with bilberry and procumbent rock willow. They could do 'naught but remain unseen and watch.

Another half-hour passed as the animals advanced, and soon it became apparent that they were heading towards the boulders that lay alongside their path. 'Twas the leaves of the rock willow they sought, and so they wound up on one side of the boulders, with the pair of hunters on the opposite side, not two fathoms away. With slow deliberation and in utter silence, Nohadan knocked and drew, and when he was set, quickly rose to his feet and cleanly shot the nearest animal, a large cow, low in the side just behind the shoulder. The arrow slammed through the cow's shoulder blade, piercing the animal's heart, and whilst the rest of the herd leaped into flight and swiftly disappeared, the cow staggered ten yards in their wake and then keeled o'er on her side stone dead. Nohadan was 'nigh as astonished as the cow, for he had shot his single arrow and his quiver was empty.

The Dúnedain gave thanks to the Valar for this bounty and that they would not have to pursue a wounded animal 'cross the landscape. After the butchery, they found themselves with a good-sized hide and 'nigh a hundred pounds of venison. They spit-roasted a haunch and then set to slicing the rest of the meat into strips that they hung o'er fires to dry. Thus they were occupied in camp for two days ere they could travel with their bounty, yet from this one hunt, they now had o'er eighteen pounds of preserved meat for each Man. On that day, as they finally broke camp, Helluin was arguing with the captain at the crossroads. 'Twas 12 Cerveth.

For the remainder of the month of Cerveth, the king and his Men continued to hunt the caribou, and although they had less luck on subsequent attempts, they were finally successful again on the 25th. In Rhudaur, the soldiers from Amon Sûl and the Weather Hills followed Helluin 'cross the Last Bridge o'er Mitheithel. On that day, the king's company slew another caribou cow. By the 28th they were again ready to travel, but ere they set out, Arvedui called them to council and asked their counsel on their course.

"Now 'tis still summer by the calendar, yet the weathers of these lands are not known to me. Winter lingered long, and I deem it may start earlier than we are accustomed. We each carry now o'er thirty pounds of dried meat, and so we shall not march so fast as aforetime. Yet thirty pounds of meat shall not last us the winter. We must gather additional stores if we are to survive.

Of worthy shelter, we have seen 'naught in these lands better than the abandoned mines in the Ered Luin. Yet those now lie o'er thirty leagues north and our journey thither shall take weeks, for we must also find sustenance along the way. For the laying in of sufficient stores, firewood, and the tanning of hides for winter gear, we shall need yet more time and a base from which to work and sally afield. I am of a mind to begin our return thither today. What say you?"

At first, the soldiers said 'naught. Arvedui was their king, and none of them had been officers. They were far more used to taking orders than deciding their course. None of them knew these lands any better than their king, and though all longed to see again their homelands, those were occupied by strong foes. Friends were far away, enemies stood 'twixt them and any sanctuary they might reach afoot, and such a journey would be slow in any case whilst hunting along the way.

Finally, Annuiél spoke, saying, "I recall that aforetime we found ice upon still water so late as the opening of Lothron, a full four months past yestarë, the shortest day. Should the seasons be balanced here, then four months ere yestarë next, the ice may form again. If such is true, then we have not a fortnight ere the seasons turn. I agree that we should return to the mine, and do so with all haste. As for laying in further stores, I reckon we may already be too late."

'Round the archer the king groaned whilst Barasron, Nohadan, and Talagant regarded him wide-eyed and nodded in agreement, looking to the north. They set out immediately, walking with a sense of purpose, and thereafter they marched so long as the light of day would allow.

In order to hasten their journey, they ate some of their dried venison rather than spend time hunting if no prey was visible. Along the way, they shot several ptarmigan for suppers and became all the more worried to find that these were already in white winter plumage. Even the king regarded this as a bad omen.

The month of Urui opened and the nights grew uncomfortably chill whilst the days were markedly cooler as well. It seemed the breezes off the bay that had driven away the mosquitoes and biting flies had become winds, and these carried a dampness that promised snow. Upon 7 Urui they were still o'er fifteen leagues from the Ered Luin, and in the morn they found a thin skin of ice upon the puddles. 'Twas the first precursor heralding the return of surface freezing. The active soil layer upon which the Men trod would rejoin the permafrost lying below to become a solid mass of ice bonded soils and rock.

'Tis insanity, Arvedui thought. Harvest lies still a month away and yet this land freezes. 'Tis abominable! Have we escaped the ruin of Fornost merely to die a slower death amidst a frozen waste? 'Tis little wonder that we were not pursued.

On the horizon, the darker heights of the Blue Mountains rose in the distance, and slowly their welcome form drew closer as the days of toil passed. Finally, on 13 Urui, just ere they turned from the coast towards the mountains, the king's farsighted eyes espied a strange vision. A good two furlongs offshore, a single Man rowed a slender boat, pointed both fore and aft, using a single oar with a blade on each end. His strokes were sure and continuous, and he was heading away from shore, straight out into open water. The king had the impression that he was scouting, as a hunter searching for prey. Eventually the king turned away and followed his soldiers up the path back to the Dwarf mine.

Now the Dúnedain knew their days were numbered ere the northern winter closed down 'round them, and they made every effort they could think of in preparation. Whilst Talagant collected all the dead trunks, branches, and sticks he could find to build a cache of firewood, Barasron caught every fish he could coax onto his hook. These he dried on a string of woven caribou sinews o'er their constantly burning campfire. King Arvedui scouted the higher paths for chamois, but finding none at first, joined Annuiél and Nohadan in searching the marmot burrows. A few of those animals they shot 'nigh their dens, yet for each one taken, the rest fled 'neath the ground. One or two a day seemed the maximum they could bag 'til the creatures began their winter sleep. At least the ones they were able to take were plump, and these they either ate straightaway, or butchered to cache and rendered their fat for later use.

The month of Urui fled as the king's company prepared for winter and none too soon, for on the morn of the 28 Urui they were greeted with falling snow. The Dúnedain spent the day processing the animals they had killed, drying meat, stretching and scraping hides, and from a few straight branches, carving a handful of new arrow shafts. These, Annuiél and Nohadan intended to tip with heads shaped by sharpening chips of bone against the rock walls of the mine. They had 'naught with which to fletch them as yet though, or 'aught in which to boil down hooves for glue. Eventually they would draw lots, and one of them would go upslope seeking a pine from which they might render a small amount of pitch to use as an adhesive. Ere the snow ceased in the night of the 29th, 'nigh a ranga had fallen, and the 30th dawned with a biting chill and a howling wind. The Men retreated from the mine entrance, 'round the first bend in the tunnel, and for the third day, stayed inside.

Ivanneth opened feeling like Girithron in Fornost. Arvedui and his company were astonished. They now had irrefutable proof that a full eight months of winter lay ahead, whilst a scant hundred leagues to the southeast, the Periannath were preparing to begin a hasty harvest.

Because he could no longer fish, Barasron took a brand from the fire and went exploring deeper into the mine. He sought not for treasure, expecting 'aught of value to have been taken by the Naugrim when they left. Rather, he sought for 'naught in particular save greater knowledge of their refuge. At each turn, he scraped an arrow upon the wall with a stone to ease the finding of his way back, and for any future explorations his company might be inclined to make. The further he went, the more amazed he was at the extent of the tunnels. After the third part of an hour, he came upon a small room. There he did indeed find treasures, though not of precious metals or gems. Rather, he found a long abandoned pick with a rotting handle, the blade of a shovel, and a small axe with a notched head and its haft intact. These he happily took and retraced his steps back to camp, for the last five minutes feeling his way in the dark, as his 'torch' had burned out. He called out to his comrades and followed their answering voices 'til he again stood in their company, and his return with the miners' tools was warmer than when he had caught his first fish.

With a few hours' work, the Men had replaced the handles of the pick and shovel with stout branches, carved on their ends to fit the eye of the pick and the socket of the shovel. The notch in the axe blade had been smoothed and the blade sharpened in the meantime. Now they could chop firewood and even take down standing snags, but most of all, with the pick and shovel, they could dig out hibernating marmots. Indeed, they could hardly wait, though wait they did. Again, 'twas Annuiél who made a suggestion.

"During my time at scouting, I had occasion to espy a camp of Hillmen. Little mind I paid their cookware at the time, yet now I recall them boiling meats in a hide sack filled with water and hung from a tripod o'er a fire. They added to the water many stones set in the fire to heat, and these they frequently replaced using tongs. It seemed that because of the water inside, the skin came to a boil, but it burned not, for its temperature could rise no higher."

At first, none spoke, yet all could imagine hot tea and soup, stew, and even heated water for washing. Anything would be a vast improvement o'er chewing dried meat 'til their jaws ached. They would also be able to melt howsoe'er much snow they needed for fresh water whene'er they needed it. Arvedui imagined companies afield cooking without being burdened by the weight of a cauldron cast of iron. Then he eyed the marmot pelts. All of the Men already had mittens.

So it came to pass that on 2 Ivanneth, Annuiél and Talagant, who had proven to be the most skilled at sewing together hides with caribou sinew whilst using the pin from another broach as a needle, created a parfleche. Barasron used his new axe to fabricate a tripod and tongs, and the king and Nohadan collected fist-sized pieces of granite from the tailings in the mine tunnels. With practice, the 'stone boiling' method of cooking proved a great advantage. Ere the end of the month, they had a parfleche for boiling water, another for rendering fat into tallow, and the original one for cooking meats.

Now Ivanneth progressed to Narbeleth as it e'er does, and with their shovel, the Dúnedain were able to clear narrow foot trails to those places where they had aforetime espied the dens of marmots. With their pick they were able to excavate the creatures' tunnels, and they hauled the sleeping animals from their underground refuges. 'Twas not hunting as any of them had known it aforetime, yet 'twas productive and entailed no danger to the hunters. So the Men managed to feed themselves with fresh meat through the tenth month of the year. Yet by the end of Narbeleth, those dens they knew had all been harvested, and save by luck, they expected no more marmot hunts.

With the end of Narbeleth came one further traditional requirement, though this tradition fell to the king alone. In more civilized parts, autumn was ended and 'twas time to give thanks for the harvest. So in the afternoon of 29 Narbeleth, King Arvedui collected from their stores, dried meat and some dried herbs, a sad offering by his estimation, but representative of all they had. Alone the king climbed the slope of the last peak of the Ered Luin. 'Twas a slow struggle through the snow. He passed the place where he had kept a watch the previous spring, and then highest meadow he had come to aforetime, when they had hunted the chamois. Further uphill he went, following a path he deemed to be a game trail. Anor set, night fell, yet still he continued thrusting one leg and then the other uphill against the snow.

A king without a kingdom I have become, and yet I am still a king, still a Man of the West, and still thankful for all the blessings of this world that I have enjoyed. Of those things for which I am thankful, I am bound by tradition, honor, and reverence to acknowledge before the Ainur and for the sake of my people. Even should I fail in all else, I shall not fail of this.

King Arvedui's feet and fingers were numb from the cold ere he sensed the coming dawn. He found a place, surprisingly level, with a view out o'er the lands that lay now far below. From the direction in which the sky paled and the stars dimmed, he realized that by the winding path he had taken, he had somehow come to face west. There he stopped, and from the bag slung o'er his shoulder, he drew forth his offerings and set them on a patch of bare rock the winds had swept clean. Then he knelt in the snow and bowed his head, awaiting Anor's first light.

Now by some chance of the shaping of those lands, the first ray of Anor shone as a beam through a distant col to the east, and it struck full upon the clearing where the king knelt. Then Arvedui's faith was renewed, and despite the desperation of his condition, he knew he still had the ear of the Lords of the West. Through chapped lips his voice was steady for his teeth chattered not from the cold. And he spoke the words of the Prayer of Eruhantalë in the Quenya tongue.

Far to the West beyond the bounds of Middle Earth, his words were heard by those who rule o'er Arda, for his heart was true and his reverence was felt clearly by those from whom 'naught can be hid. And the Elder King dipped His head to honor the spirit of this Younger Child of the One who had maintained his faith though all he knew had been taken from him by evil. And Manwë marked that the king's hope yet lived; perhaps not hope for his own fortunes, but hope for the fortunes of his people and the race of Men, and the world that would continue to unfold when he was gone. This frail mortal had been tested to the breaking, and more darkness was to follow, this He knew, yet still he came with reverence and acceptance of his fate.

Estel, estel túluva an lietya.¹ ¹(Estel, estel túluva an lietya, Hope, hope will come for your people. Quenya)

The words came clearly into Arvedui's mind, and with the clear sight of his heart, he knew from Whom they came. He bowed his head and tears of thanksgiving coursed down his cheeks. Long he knelt as Anor rose to clear the peaks to his east, and he felt 'naught of the world's cold.

When he finally rose and took his leave, his feet were light despite the snow, and he made his way downslope with higher spirits than he had had for many long days. When he passed the meadow, he marked the chamois. The herd was still there two hours later when he returned with Nohadan and Annuiél, and they took two cows on the day of the Eruhantalë.

Now the month of Hithui came in. The weather remained brutally cold and more snow fell. The king and his Men spent much time trading lore, and the tales of their lives, for they had 'naught else to occupy their time. Girithron followed, and with its passing, the year 1974 came to its end, and good riddance to it, Arvedui thought. The Dúnedain celebrated yestarë, the mid-winter short day, by eating the last of their fresh meat from a frozen cairn 'nigh the entrance of the mine. They had survived half the northern winter.

During the month of Narwain, the winter maintained its cold grasp on the Bay of Forochel and the surrounding lands. In the Dwarf mine, King Arvedui and his soldiers reduced their rations, and still they saw their caches emptied one after another. The dried meat they had laid in during the short-lived summer was disappearing far faster than the occasional additions they could make. Ere the first month of the year was old, all knew their stores would last but a week into Nínui, leaving o'er two and a half months for starvation. By the end of Narwain, they had eaten the last of the marmot meat, most of the caribou venison, and most of the dried fish.

The king went out each morn, climbing uphill to the lookout, and there he strained his eyes against the white, snow-covered landscape, hoping against hope to descry some animals moving in the lowlands or 'nigh the coast that they could hunt. Barasron chopped holes through the ice in attempts to fish, but 'naught took his bait or hook. Day after day, they returned to the tunnels empty-handed. Each week they had agreed to reduce their rations, but all knew their only hope was in hunting fresh meat, yet with each passing week sighting 'naught living, their hopes dwindled. Finally, on 6 Nínui, they ate the last of the caribou meat, a scant few ounces that they made into a thin soup. On the 7th they went hungry.

In the morn of the 9th, by which time his stomach had even given up grumbling, the king sat at the lookout and stared towards the coast. On the bay, in the distance well offshore, he thought he saw something moving 'cross the ice. He kept watching, and after the half part of an hour, he marked the progress of a half-dozen advancing towards the shore. They were still too distant to be sure of their kind save that they were darker than the ice and moved forward with purpose, yet not always in a straight line. Each moved independently, but all in the same direction. When they approached the shore, he went back to the mine and spoke to his Men of all he had seen. Together they agreed to march thither, for they deemed that they had 'naught to lose. They gathered their spears, swords, daggers, bows, and arrows. They brought their axe, shovel, and pick, and carried their parfleches in hopes of cooking a meal.

Now their progress was slow for the way to the shore was covered in snow and led twelve miles 'cross the undulating landscape. It took them all that day and part of the next, and ere they drew 'nigh, they marked a thin column of smoke rising from where memory told that the beach lay. Knowing now 'twas no animals that had come to the shore, they went forward warily, uncertain if they approached friend or foe, Men or Yrch, or whate'er else might have made this wasteland home.

Finally they came to the edge of the land where it sloped down to the strand, and there they beheld a sight most unexpected. Gathered in a group were six domes of snow, and from each came a thin column of smoke. In the snow 'nigh each was a sledge and a crowd of dogs with thick, pale fur, lying at their leisure and gnawing on bones. These had been tethered on long leads to stakes 'nigh the doors of the shelters, lest they wander off to hunt on their own.

As the Dúnedain watched, a Man crawled out into view from within one of the snow shelters. He stood heavily cloaked and hooded in skins and furs, and he threw to the closest dogs a hunk of something that drew them in a crowd. After a glance 'round the beach, he crawled back into his shelter, leaving the dogs to fight o'er whatsoe'er he had cast to them.

Arvedui looked to his Men and quirked a brow towards the shelters. Nohadan, Talagant, Barasron and Annuiél shrugged. None of them had e'er aforetime met any of the Lossoth, for in this land, these could be no others. Indeed, none of the Dúnedain had met any of that folk in centuries. They were reputed to be no friends to Men of the West, yet also not openly hostile. They simply crossed paths so seldom that they entered not into each other's calculations. They traded not, for the Lossoth were far and had 'naught that the Men of Eriador wanted. Ancient lore told that their sires, the Forodwaith, had come from far in the east, to the service of Morgoth, and with his fall in the War of Wrath, had fled the Sinking of Beleriand, back to the lands about the Bay of Forochel. There they had created a way of life and because of their remote homeland, had little to do with other Men.

In fact the lore of the Dúnedain was somewhat in error. The Forodwaith had indeed occupied the Northern Waste from the Elder Days, but they had not come to serve Morgoth. Rather they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Whether or not they had actually come from the furthest east, or were simply of a type with those who dwelt far beyond the Sea of Rhûn, was a matter of contention even amongst the Wise. What was true is that from the Elder Days, they had adapted to the harsh, endless cold, and had developed a culture that allowed them to survive on the Cape of Forochel. They believed that Angmar, like Utumno aforetime, had promoted the cold clime. They feared the Witch King, hated his Yrch, and were withdrawn from other Men by distance and for the sake of their own security.

The wind blew steadily off the bay, and even the dogs would not scent the Dúnedain who watched from fifty yards inland. The king and his Men could leave and none amongst the Lossoth would be the wiser, yet they had 'naught to leave for save the shelter of the mine where they could starve to death ere spring. One by one, all of them came to this same conclusion. When the king stood and began walking towards the shore, his Men followed.

The Dúnedain came to within twenty yards of the shelters, still beyond the tethers of the dogs. Those perked up and looked to them, barked a few times, but made no move to attack. It seemed they had been approached by others aforetime and saw it not as a threat.

"Halloooooo!" Arvedui called out.

With his Men, he waited a while, and when no response followed, he repeated his hail. At the sound of his voice, the dogs barked a few more times ere seeming to lose interest. Eventually, after several repetitions, a Man and what appeared to be his son crawled out of the nearest shelter, stared at the king and his companions in shock, then waved in greeting ere they crawled back into their shelter. Arvedui groaned and threw up his hands in exasperation.

Inside the snow shelter, the Man warned his son and wife that five spirits had appeared in the guise of tall Men. Such apparitions were best off ignored 'til they went back to their own world and troubled living people no more. So long as they stayed inside, they were safe. Then they settled back to resume their meal of whale blubber.

Outside, the king resumed his hail, for he could think of 'naught else to do. Eventually other people appeared from the surrounding shelters, but they behaved the same way. They came out, looked, and then went back inside. The Dúnedain began to feel that to the Lossoth, they didn't actually exist.

Finally, at the end of his wits as well as his patience, and after gesturing his Men to maintain their distance, the king walked right up to the entrance of the shelter and shouted inside. The dogs had surrounded him of course, but they smelled only Man and wood smoke, and those scents were akin to those who fed them, so they accepted the ruffling of their necks and the scratching 'twixt their ears, for in all places, dogs are more alike than not.

Now inside the shelter, the family heard the dogs interacting with the spirit, but dogs, by virtue of their sense of smell, were easily capable of distinguishing 'twixt the living and the spirits, (to which they paid no mind), and so the Lossoth were forced to believe the Men were actually Men and not some residue of a netherworld.

The Man of the Lossoth crawled out of his shelter and the king stood back from the entrance to allow his exit. He beheld the gaunt countenance of the stranger, but also the sheathed sword and dagger at his waist that were unsettling, for his people had no such artifacts of steel. Despite the stranger's obvious starvation, 'twas a light in his eyes that made him confident that this was no servant of the enemy. Indeed, he looked more like one of the mythical Kings from the Sea, though such folk had not been seen in the north for many generations. Still, t'would explain the sword. Finally, deeming that he had 'naught to lose, he chanced speech with the stranger, using the foreign tongue with which all the different tribes of his people could communicate.

"Who b'you, tal'n starv'd 'un?" The Losdír¹asked. ¹(Losdír, Snowman = los(snow) + dír(man, male) Sindarin)

"I am Arvedui, son of Araphant," said the king, astonished that he could understand the Losdír's Westron. He thought it no worse than 'aught that he'd heard in the Shire.

If the Losdír recognized the royal prefix in the king's name, he made no mention of it, but rather, sought to trade names.

"I'yam Tulukaruq," he said, and then to make sure his intention had been understood, he pressed his hand to his chest and repeated, "Tulukaruq". He pointed at the king and said "A'ridoo."

Arvedui nodded, pointed at Tulukaruq and said, "Tooloocrak."

They both smiled, accommodation of the other's effort trumping accurate pronunciation on this first meeting. The king waved his Men o'er and introduced them one at a time, slowly and with many smiles. Tulukaruq called forth his people and soon 'nigh two dozens stood in a circle. One by one he introduced his fellow Lossoth. No one pronounced a name right, and a gaggle of children stood by snickering at the strangers, but by the end of it, all were acquainted by name.

One further thing the king did, and unknowingly endeared himself to his hosts. He pointed to the east and said, "Angmar", then spat on the snow and stomped on the spittle.

Following the formalities, the king asked if the Lossoth could spare any food. Tulukaruq smiled.

"We give," he said.

Shortly later, and amidst a festival atmosphere, the adult Lossoth came forth with long knives shaped from the ribs of some big animal, and carved out blocks from the snow. In the circle from which they had taken the blocks, they began a construction that the Dúnedain watched with great interest. By stacking the blocks in a diminishing spiral, they quickly built a domed shelter of snow, a bit larger than those they used, and with an entrance tunnel to keep the wind at bay. Then, from each shelter, the Lossoth brought hunks of red meat to feed their guests, and these they offered with many smiles.

The Dúnedain offered the Lossoth great thanks, and Arvedui took Tulukaruq aside and offered him the brooches from which the fishing hook and sewing needle had been made. They were silver settings, one with a cabochon of opal, and the other with a faceted beryl of green. Tulukaruq looked at the gems and asked what they were for. The king answered that they were symbols of wealth used for personal decoration. The Losdír laughed at that for a long time.

Eventually Tulukaruq would decide on what he wished to trade for his people's support of the Dúnedain, and the king agreed, saying, "when spring comes, we leave these lands and then they are yours."

Now Arvedui and his Men hunkered down in the snow shelter the Lossoth had built for them, and they ate the lean red meat they were given, ne'er realizing that the lean was to the Lossoth fit only for their dogs, whilst for themselves they kept the blubber and the fattiest cuts. Only those could provide the raw calories needed to work and resist the cold. So the King of Men spent the rest of Nínui eating dog food, and he was happy to have been able to deliver his Men from starvation.

To Be Continued