In An Age Before – Part 196
Chapter One Hundred twenty-eight
The Angle, Rhudaur – The Third Age of the Sun
Now on 30 Lothron, the armies of Gondor, Rhovanion, and Arthedain marched proudly through the gates of Lindon and there was great rejoicing at the Havens, for the warriors had returned victorious and the power of Angmar was utterly destroyed. Two further weeks were spent in celebrations and the dismantling of the military columns and the support trains and the camps that the armies had created in Lindon. Yet when all was done at last, the soldiers boarded their ships and prepared to sail for home.
Then Prince Eärnur came to Queen Fíriel and said, "The Witch King is defeated and the realm of Angmar is fallen, yet I have seen Fornost, and as does thy son, I deem it uninhabitable by Men for 'tis populated by horrid wights bespelled by the morgûl of the Ringwraith. Therefore on behalf of my father and the South Kingdom, I offer thee and thy people sanctuary in Gondor if thou would have it. T'would be our honor to conjoin our peoples in a single realm as 'twas in the days of Elendil."
Yet the queen said, "Most gracious is thy offer, lord, yet for myself, I choose to remain in the north, in the land I came to in my youth, and whence I have raised my family with the love of my king. Still, I shall not oppose thee making thy offer to the people, for much horror and hardship have they endured in the north."
Prince Eärnur stood before the gathered Dúnedain of Arthedain and offered sanctuary and citizenship with transport to Gondor. He saw there thousands of refugees bereft of their homes and livelihoods, and he pitied them. He deemed that they could not but gain by accepting. They were Men of the West, and they were of more pure stock than his fellow Men in the south. A great and rejuvenating strain they could reintroduce to his realm. 'Twas a situation in which he believed all would benefit.
To his amazement, his offer was met with silence. The people of the fallen realm of Arthedain stood still and no hands were raised. No voices claimed acceptance of his offer. Not a single Dúnadan of the north chose to leave the lands of their ancestors. Instead they looked upon him with bright eyes, and though he could ne'er be sure after, for no such expressions were e'er made, still he felt 'twas they who pitied him. In the end, he could do 'naught but wish them well and prepare to sail.
In those days there came also to Queen Fíriel a healer of Gondor, a private citizen attached to the army for the duration of the campaign, but not commissioned as a military officer. This was Almiril¹, with whom the queen had some prior history. ¹(Almiril, Sparkling Flame = almir(sparkling flame) + -il(fem suff on n.) Sindarin)
"Your Grace, I doubt thou recognize me after so many years, yet in Minas Anor I was once a handmaiden to thee at the court of thy father. If thou would have me, t'would be my honor to serve thee again. I have learnt the ways of healing in the south, yet I have seen somewhat of the herb lore of the north and would both learn it to increase my own skills and to serve thy people who have taken much hurt."
"Almiril, I recall thee, yet would not have recognized thee now save for thy introduction. The years have changed thee greatly and the sweet and happy girl I knew has grown to the beauty and knowledge of a young woman that any lady would be proud to accept in her service. If thou art resolved in this and shall not incur the displeasure of thy parents or thy lord, then I shall accept thee as a member of my household."
"I came hence by my own choice and am not in the service of any lord. Nor am I not an officer in the army. My parents understand my desire to master the craft of healing, and I shall send a letter to them explaining my choice. I thank thee for accepting me, m'lady."
Almiril bowed to the queen and then prepared to join the Dúnedain of Arthedain on their march east. Her greatest hope was to learn the healing lore of the Elves, which was unknown in the south, but which she had realized might be learnt in Eriador after her time at the Havens.
The queen recalled that like her other handmaidens at the court of King Ondoher, Almiril was a daughter of the lesser nobility of Minas Anor, sent to the court to learn the ways of the regency and to become known to the royal family. Fíriel tried to recall her lineage, but could only remember that her family was descended from a lateral branch of the noble house of Andúnië.
Fíriel was now seventy-nine years of age. She had been forty-four when she left Gondor to wed Prince Arvedui. At that time, the girl she remembered as a handmaiden had been nine years of age. She was now the same age the queen had been when she had come to Arthedain.
Now on 16 Lothron, Prince Aranarth stood on the North Road bidding his allies and the bulk of the Army of Arthedain farewell as they began their return march to Lindon. The hosts of Gondor and Rhovanion had won renown and the gratitude of the North Kingdom. The Host of Lindon had achieved a measure of redress for their losses and had aided in the defeat of their ancient foe, the Witch King of Angmar.
For the soldiers of Arthedain, the resolution had been bittersweet and felt incomplete. Their lands were free of the evil at last, but their kingdom was diminished. Many friends had been slain, their king was lost, the countryside had been pillaged, and though freed, their city was haunted. The prince had refused to accept the crown, had declined to return to the refuge of his people in Mithlond, and had sent them back to Lindon bearing privy tidings to the queen in the form of a parcel 'neath the care of an elite company of guards.
The prince had remained outside of Fornost with a force of two hundred cavalry, and had expressed the intention of riding east to The Angle in the old realm of Rhudaur. Thither, he had been told, the soldiers from the garrisons of Amon Sûl and the Weather Hills forts had escaped 'nigh a year aforetime, and there they were being trained in the ways of the Rangers. The truth of this he needed to assess firsthand.
Amongst the comrades who had left him behind at Fornost, many shared a sense of foreboding that some further change was to come. Some recalled that, rather than returning to Arnor with his army, King Isildur had once set out from Gondor with two hundred cavalry, and he and his sons had ne'er returned home. The analogy was far from perfect and at heart they all knew this, yet it had become stuck in their minds and they could not dismiss it. 'Twas the fallout of their uncertainties following the resolution of a war that left more unknown than known. For surcease of their anxieties about the future, they sought for any omen or portent that might augur 'aught to give them reassurance. Alas, after seeing the wights and learning that even death itself was in doubt, they tended to choose the most depressing examples, and so their superstitions provided little comfort.
As for Prince Aranarth, 'twixt the claims of his father about hidden Rangers and royalty in Rhudaur, the words of Mórfin Laiquende, and the condition of the realm of Arthedain, he deemed 'twas high time to examine The Angle. He had thought much of late on a conversation he had had with his father five years aforetime.
My son, should the times grow so dark that the ways of Arthedain no longer suffice for the fulfillment of thine oath, then perhaps from the Rangers of Rhudaur thou shalt learn what is necessary. The realm and the kingship may pass, but still we are bound by the pact King Elendil made with the Middle Men of Eriador.
Father, so long as I have life, I shall honor the word bond 'twixt our people and theirs, come what may.
No more and no less can any subjects expect of their king.
"No more and no less should a king expect of himself, father," Aranarth whispered as he gestured his company hence and they began their ride south, down the North Road from Fornost.
The evening of the 17th found Prince Aranarth's company at the crossroads. There they found the ruins of the garrison and its fortifications, but no soldiers or refugees awaited them. In the morn they began their journey down the East Road. By arrangement with the gatekeepers of Bree town, the causeways and gates were open and clear west and east. The prince's riding passed o'er the dike, through the hedge, and past well 'nigh every inhabitant Big and Small, who lined the road 'neath the steep southwestern face of Bree Hill. They waved and the prince's knights waved back, and some shouted, 'Angmar is defeated', or 'Fornost is freed'. The people cheered and their rejoicing was great, and many days of celebration followed when the news spread to the outlying villages of Staddle, Combe, and Archet.
Now Prince Aranarth led his riders onto the East Road. They soon passed the Last Inn a score miles east of the crossroads and offered their tidings to the innkeeper. Master Duckworth recommended that they make haste. The company continued on, and after another fifteen miles they saw the dark blot to the north of the road that signified the Midgewater Marshes. For fifteen miles that wetland stretched within two furlongs of the road, close enough to populate the air with biting flies, mosquitoes, gnats, and 'aught else a-wing that could bite, suck blood, or bring itching torment to Man and beast.
For those fifteen miles, the company couldn't flee down the road fast enough. They alternated gallop with trot, but allowed the horses to set the pace and most of them ran as if they were in rout. They did not slow 'til they had come a league beyond the swamp. There they set a camp for the night and built smoky fires to drive off any insects that should happen upon them.
The morning of 19 Lothron found the prince's company but thirty-three miles west of Amon Sûl. They rode at a pace comfortable for both horses and riders as the flat lands opened up north and south. After coming a score and five miles, they saw the irregular line of the Weather Hills rising to their northeast, and the conical silhouette of the Hill of Wind southernmost 'nigh the road. By the second hour past noon, the company stood at the foot of Amon Sûl. The road ascending to the causeway stretched up towards the guardhouse at the foot of the switchbacks that led to the summit. In the dust on the road they saw the remnants of many hoof prints and ruts from wagon wheels left behind by the cavalry of Imladris who had departed three weeks aforetime.
Having still some hours ere dark, the prince led his company up the road to the guardhouse. Then, choosing a dozen to accompany him whilst the rest prepared camp and kept watch, Prince Aranarth ascended the switchbacks up the northwest side of Amon Sûl, eventually reaching the summit.
Though there was little enough to see amongst the ruins of the watchtower, the view was inspiring from a thousand feet above the flat lands and the East Road. As he had on his few prior visits, the prince tried to imagine the panorama from atop the tower that had stood another five hundred feet higher 'til its destruction in 1409. Finally he sighed and took the measure of the surrounding lands. 'Naught moved and all appeared deserted so far as he could see. No travelers came or went upon the road, and no campfires or columns of smoke rose from the surrounding lands. For a while, he and his Men watched Anor setting in the west, then he took a last survey of the surrounding terrain. With nightfall, the company carefully descended from the summit and returned to the guard house to join the encampment upon the causeway.
They spent an uneventful night, and for that they were thankful. No foes lurked ahead, they sought no enemies, and none hunted them. After the past year and a half, 'twas simply a relief to be able to enjoy the land and the company of their fellow soldiers in peace. Eventually, 'neath the watchful eyes of the sentries, they slept undisturbed.
20 Lothron dawned, and after breaking their fast, the company returned to the East Road. From Amon Sûl to the Last Bridge that spans Mitheithel was one hundred and eighty miles. The prince planned their rides to cover forty-five miles each day, and so they would make their camp on the night of the 23rd astride the road on the west bank of the river. They would cross the bridge and enter the Troll Shaws of Rhudaur on the 24th. Once 'cross the Last Bridge, all the lands south of the road ere it reached the Bruinen were the north march of The Angle. In those lands, Prince Aranarth had no idea wherein the Rangers or anyone else might reside.
During the days of their ride to the Last Bridge, the low, flat lands of western Rhudaur stretched out to the north, whilst south of the road were the more rolling lands of northern Cardolan. The prince and his Men had visited neither aforetime, and of old, they had been hostile realms that had oft been in contention with Arthedain. Yet Cardolan had for a time been allied after its fall, when regents loyal to the kings had ruled 'neath the scepter of the north and the remaining Men of Rhudaur had become their allies. Indeed lore told that some had been kin of the regents, but those tales had been of times centuries ago. On his father's counsel, Prince Aranarth fervently hoped 'twas true.
As had their ride to Amon Sûl, the company reached the Last Bridge unchallenged, and though they had marked none in those lands, they were constantly watched the whole way. Indeed they had been espied ere they took their leave of Fornost. On the day they came to the Last Bridge, the Rhudaur Ranger Túrandir was met by a Green Elf who appeared beside him on patrol so suddenly that the Man started ere he marked the grin on the Laiquende's face. O'er the past few months, they had met more than once and it had become a sort of amusement to the Elf.
"Scared the bejeezus out of me again, Calenél," he admitted without rancor. "What goes forth that thou hast appeared so…abruptly?"
"Well met, meldir nín," the elleth said with a straight face. "I have tidings for thee. Prince Aranarth of Arthedain leads two hundreds to the Last Bridge. He seeks thy people. We deem Lord Níshír and Captain Úcúnon should learn of this."
"Probably a good idea," Túrandir agreed. "I shall return to Celenhár at once. Pray join me this time?"
The elleth laughed. She ne'er accompanied him into the town.
"Why then would I seek thee, were I wont to go thither of my own accord?"
"I merely extend the invitation as one ally to another, for civility's sake, of course," he said, with a grin and a wink.
"Of course, noble Túrandir. Perhaps one day I shall simply appear before thee in town."
"Stay safe 'til then, meldis nín," he said.
"And you," Calenél replied. She offered a parting smile, and in a blink she was gone.
A moment later the other two Rangers on the patrol caught up with him.
"You talking with someone, sir?" One of them asked whilst searching the surrounding woods.
The other simply stood by, checking the ground for tracks.
"Come, we return to Celenhár," Túrandir told them without further explanation.
The other two Rangers shrugged. He was their captain and they would do as he bid.
Two hours later, Túrandir dismissed his patrol to the Ranger barracks and reported to the town hall in Celenhár. There he requested an audience with his lord, to pass on tidings of grave import received from the Laiquendi. He was admitted at once and ushered into the rear of the hall where the Lord Níshír, Lady Brithil, and Prince Gwíthír, were hosting the Ladies Athelrian and Brennil, and their friends Mithrandir and Captain Úcúnon for the evening meal.
"Come, pull up a chair and join us, captain," the lord offered. 'Twas a far cry from the protocol in the royal dining halls in Arthedain or Gondor, but the Lords of Celenhár had ne'er stood on rank or privilege.
Captain Túrandir bowed to his lord and the ladies and accepted, saying, "t'would be my pleasure, my lord. I have tidings from the Laiquendi regarding Prince Aranarth of Arthedain."
At his words, the Ithron hearkened and set aside his knife and fork. Túrandir went to the sink and washed his hands, then dragged a chair from alongside the wall and brought it to the table. He seated himself, but ere 'aught else, lowered his head and sat for some moments in silence whilst the others gave him his peace, despite being curious to hear his rede. Finally, he looked up after observing the moment of thanksgiving and greeted the other diners. He was actually very glad to find them all together, since in Celenhár they constituted the king's court, being the king and his family, plus whosoe'er he deemed good company or sources of good counsel.
Lady Brithil passed him a platter of roasted chicken parts and he helped himself to a drumstick and thigh, then plates and dishes of vegetables, mashed potatoes, baked apples, onions sautéed with mushrooms, and sliced flank steak in a spicy sauce were passed. A basket of rolls and a pitcher of cider were offered and accepted. Because Túrandir had already announced his purpose, but had not declared it an emergency, the diners continued with their meal and other conversations. These pertained to the doings of the village and the wider countryside, and constituted the king's Privy Council, absent court politics, scheming, intrigues, and infighting. One by one, decisions were reached concerning crops and livestock, maintenance of the roads, security of the borders, civil disputes, healthcare, and foreign affairs.
Anyone there with an opinion was free to present their ideas, and oft times multiple points of view were expressed so that compromises could be made. Many of those points were the concerns of various citizens, presented second or third hand by way of 'suggestions' made to Rangers on patrol, asides expressed to the lord or lady in the course of the day or at market, and through conversations with tradesmen, servants, and innkeepers.
As he had been last to table and the business of the town had begun even ere the food had been served, Captain Túrandir's tidings were presented last, o'er slices of cake, and he was happy enough, for it had allowed him to enjoy his meal. During all that time, Mithrandir had eyed him from time to time with a growing measure of curiosity and but thinly disguised impatience.
When the time came for him to speak his tidings, the captain simply said, "Calenél appeared on patrol and well 'nigh gave me a heart attack. She learnt from her people that Prince Aranarth has led two hundred of his Men to the Last Bridge and they seek the Rangers of Rhudaur."
"This is good tidings," Captain Úcúnon said with a broad smile. "I had expected to need to ride to Fornost to report on our training."
"I dearly hope that the prince seeks to have more of the Dúnedain trained in the Ranger ways," Mithrandir said. "I have long believed such to be a necessity for the future."
"Perhaps to impress the value of that training on His Highness, you should take your Men to meet him and convey him hither, for I doubt he knows the way to Celenhár," Lord Níshír said to Captain Úcúnon. "T'would be most convincing if 'twas his own soldiers who greeted him with their new skills."
The captain smiled at that notion, recalling his own reaction when first met by the Rangers of Rhudaur.
"My lord, I shall do just so," he said, "and we shall make ourselves convincing."
Now on 24 Lothron, Prince Aranarth and his Men ventured 'cross the Last Bridge and entered the forested lands of the Troll Shaws. They went forward warily, but at a walking pace, for they sought others more than they believed that they were sought themselves. The day was pleasant and sunlight filtered through the leaves o'erhead wherefrom came the songs of birds and the chattering of squirrels. The land seemed empty and at peace, and they marked none upon the road or in the woods.
After a few miles, they began to see the remains of fortifications amidst the hills to the north. These dated from the time ere Rhudaur had been subverted by Angmar some six hundred years aforetime, and were now badly weathered and crumbling. No pennants had flown from their battlements, nor had Men defended their walls for centuries, and now, no challenges came from them. Silent ruins and empty windows whose time had passed o'erlooked the passage of the living as they patiently eroded back into the hilltops from whence their stones had once been quarried.
Ere the morn had passed, the Dúnedain understood that these lands had once been populous and jealously defended, but had also been a realm of many lords who had allied and contested with one another, perhaps long ere the Exiles had come from the Whelming of Númenor. 'Twas sobering to acknowledge that the realms of Arnor and Rhudaur had been but a chapter in the history of Eriador. Prince Aranarth could not help but feel that the start of a new chapter was upon them, yet the charge upon his house remained. As had his forefathers, he would honor the Oath of Argeleb and the promises Elendil had made to the descendants of these castles' builders.
During the 24th, the Dúnedain rode a leisurely thirty miles east. When they halted for the night, they were still north of the western part of The Angle where the forested hills extended north and south of the road. Knowing those lands only from old maps and descriptions in lore, the prince deemed one place as good as another in which to spend the night. A camp was set and sentries posted. The horses were tended and the evening meal consumed. Finally, the Dúnedain rested, unaware that they were guarded by unseen sentries who roamed the woods on both sides of the road.
Now Prince Aranarth and his Men continued on the 25th, and they saw more evidence of a land with much history that now lay at peace. The steep hills to the south of the road failed after the first ten miles, giving way to more open woods covering low, rolling hills. By mid-afternoon they had ridden a score miles east and reached an o'ergrown clearing on the south side of the road that hosted the tumbled remains of a wooden inn. A faint trail led on further south. There the prince called a halt for the day. Again the cavalry set their camp along the road and passed the night undisturbed.
The morning of 26 Lothron dawned and the Dúnedain rose and broke their fasts. Prince Aranarth was just finishing his morning meal when a captain came to him with a report. He looked up from his plate and did a double-take. The Man was familiar, but had not been in his riding. 'Twas Captain Úcúnon who stood before him and bowed to his lord.
"Captain, whence came thee? I know each Man who accompanied me from Fornost…"
"My Lord Aranarth, I am Captain Úcúnon, aforetime, commander of the garrisons of Amon Sûl and the Weather Hills. Word has come to me that thou seek for the Rangers of Rhudaur."
"Aye, for my father believed that they inhabit The Angle, yet we have seen none thus far. Know thou 'aught of these Rangers?"
"Aye, my lord, I do. Since Cerveth last they have given sanctuary to my Men and succored us after our withdrawal was forced by the Host of Angmar. Their lord consented to train the soldiers 'neath my command in the ways of the Rangers, and o'er the past ten months all four hundred who survive have completed the training."
A broad smile and an expression of genuine joy shaped the features of the prince. That for which he had sought, in growing doubt and based only on the suspicions of his father, had not only been proved true, but had already borne fruit. There were Rangers in Rhudaur. They were sympathetic to his people, and against all hope, the first Rangers of Arthedain had already been trained.
"Captain Úcúnon, I could not be happier. Years ago, my father bid me seek for Rangers in Rhudaur if times grew so dark that our ways would no longer suffice for the safeguarding of our people. Fornost is no longer open to us, and though Angmar is fallen, the days of strong places and massed armies are done so far as I can foresee. Tell me then of these Rangers."
For the next half-hour, as the cavalry awaited orders to mount and ride, the young Prince Aranarth held council with the much older Captain Úcúnon. All that had befallen the soldiers of Amon Sûl and the Weather Hills was told, and the captain spoke also of Celenhár and its lord. Great wonder and awe did the prince feel at those tidings, for far more than his father had e'er suspected he now learnt to be true.
"Lord Aranarth, I have found that Níshír, Lord of Celenhár, is also the nine and fortieth King of Eriador, reckoned in unbroken line from Balar, son of Balan, the first Lord of the First House of the Atani of Beleriand. He is titular king of all the Middle Men of these lands, even if he is only acknowledged thus in The Angle.
Of the town of Celenhár, I have heard direct testimony that 'twas originally founded by Men of the First House returning out of Beleriand during the Elder Days, persisted 'til 'twas o'errun by the Glamhoth in the War of the Elves and Sauron, and then refounded shortly after. It hath existed continuously e'er since."
The prince shook his head in amazement. If all that his captain claimed was true, the town was older than Númenor, its lord a scion of one of the lines that had led to the Kings of Westernesse.
"It must be an impressive place by now. I crave to see it and meet its lord," he said. He was imagining an ancient walled fortress with knights and Men-at-arms as well as stealthy Rangers.
"Indeed my Men and I are sent to lead thee hence, Prince Aranarth. Lord Níshír and others await thee."
"Your Men? They are here?" He had seen none on the road or in the woods, the sentries had raised no alarms, and even the horses stood by peacefully.
"They wait to accompany thy cavalry south, my lord, and together we shall come to Celenhár," Captain Úcúnon said with a smile.
Prince Aranarth swallowed some water to wash down his last mouthful of bread and then stood and mounted his horse. His riders formed up behind him, and with a gesture, he bid Captain Úcúnon lead them hence. The captain bowed to the prince and then set his fingers to his lips and blew a piercing whistle.
All 'round the camp of the cavalry, from behind tree trunks, dropping from the branches above, or rising from behind boulders and the ground itself, company after company of Rangers clad in mixed greens appeared. All bore bows and quivers of arrows, swords, and long daggers. Their movements were efficient and silent as they broke cover and presented themselves.
"Our Lord Aranarth, Heir of Isildur!" Captain Úcúnon cried out.
Then as one the four hundred silent Rangers snapped to attention as smartly as any soldiers of Arthedain standing review at Fornost, and they bowed to the prince, leaving no doubts about their loyalty despite their numbers and the tactical advantages they had demonstrated. Prince Aranarth dipped his head in return to acknowledge them.
"Much has changed in Arthedain, and I deem the lessons ye have learnt shall be the salvation of our people," the prince told them. "Ye have already done what I had hoped to do, and I offer my thanks and the esteem of the realm."
Captain Úcúnon led Prince Aranarth and the cavalry south down the o'ergrown trail from the inn, and after a half mile the path became a country road, clear of debris and with wheel tracks clearly visible. After a league, they saw the first farm with fields of wheat and barley, plots of squash, pumpkins, potatoes, carrots and onions. Beyond lay orchards of fruit trees and berry brambles. A barn and fenced pastures attested to livestock, and a wagon in the yard stood ready for a team to be hitched.
The further south they rode, the more populous the land became. Soon hamlets and small villages appeared down side lanes or 'nigh the eaves of woods. From a distance they marked people going about their labors, just as would be in rural parts of Arthedain. All they saw appeared normal and prosperous, but for a day and a half they saw no large settlements or rumor of cities. No roads larger than the wagon track they followed did they see.
During that time, the captain and the prince spoke at length about all that had come to pass. By the time they reached Celenhár on the afternoon of 27 Lothron, Prince Aranarth had learnt the lore of the town, its lord, and the other nobles who dwelt there. The captain heard tell of the Battle of Fornost and of the haunting of the fortress, and so he understood why the prince believed the realm needed to change in a fundamental way.
At first sight, the town of Celenhár was wholly unimpressive. It could have been any of the many rural towns in Arthedain, save that the people were not Dúnedain. Still, the fieldstone foundations, half-timbered walls with wattle and daub infill, and the high pitched, wooden shingled or thatched rooves were all familiar to the Men of Arthedain. 'Twas a welcoming sight, and yet for what the captain had revealed was the administrative center and functional capital of Rhudaur, it seemed somehow disappointing. The prince reckoned 'twas home to perhaps two thousand souls at most, all concentrated 'round a town center with market square and town hall. Two main streets crossed at an intersection with the hall on the southeast corner. The longer cross street ran parallel to a small river that the captain had named the Idethol, and which fed into the Bruinen. A slight rise in the entrance road showed that the town stood at an elevation of perhaps forty feet above the surrounding fields, though it sloped down to the docks lining a couple hundred yards of the Idethol's bank. There was no wall and no fortifications, not even a dike and hedge as guarded Bree Hill.
All this the prince took in as the captain led him to the town hall. There Rangers of Rhudaur bowed to the prince and bid them enter, for word had come of their arrival and the Lord of Celenhár and the Lady of the First House waited within.
Captain Úcúnon opened the door and stood aside for Prince Aranarth to enter. They passed through the antechamber and into the hall where the prince's eyes rove o'er the construction, more open than he had expected, for no pillars interrupted that space. He marked the tapestries and the dais at the far end with its carved wooden chairs, but the small gathering that met him stood on the floor instead.
The captain acted as a herald, introducing the parties.
"My lord Aranarth son of Arvedui, Prince of Arthedain and Heir of Isildur, may I present Níshír son of Redhir, Lord of Celenhár, Heir of Balar, and the nine and fortieth King of Eriador. With him are his wife, Lady Brithil, their son and heir, Prince Gwíthír, Lady Athelrian, heiress of Dúrrél, elder daughter of Baragund of Dorthonion, the current Lady of the First House of the Atani, and her daughter and heiress, Lady Brennil. Here too is Mithrandir, Ithron and counselor of kings."
The prince bowed deeply to those present and they bowed to him in return.
All that my father once suspected has proved true and more, Aranarth thought.
"My Lord Níshír, I offer my sincerest thanks and the thanks of Arthedain for thy most generous succor of the soldiers 'neath Captain Úcúnon's command. Yet more, I thank thee for the training they have received. 'Twas my father's wish that just such should come to pass if the changes to Arthedain demanded that the Dúnedain also change. Indeed, I had come hither seeking to beseech thee for just such."
At his words, it seemed the Wizard gave a sigh of relief.
"The Dúnedain are welcome amongst us, Lord Aranarth. Long have thy people opposed the evil of the north and withstood the brunt of the Witch King's enmity. We would aid thee as we can, with sanctuary and training now, even as we once did with our loyalty to the kings. Long ago we shared ancestors, and so we deem that kinship binds us, though 'tis distant in these latter days."
The prince bowed his head to honor the lord's words. Six centuries after the fall of the Kingdom of Rhudaur, its people still esteemed their old realm and the greater realm of Arnor that had preceded it. Though their Dúnedain lords had been defeated o'er six lifetimes ago, the memory of them had not been forsaken. During all that time, the Kings of Arthedain had claimed lordship o'er all the lands of Arnor, and yet none had defended all of its people. For a moment he felt shame, and he felt the absolute necessity of honoring the Oath of Argeleb and the promises Elendil had made to just such subjects long ago.
"Thou hast not earned such shame Prince Aranarth, nor have thy sires," Mithrandir said. "They did all they could to oppose the enemy, yet they were e'er o'ermatched. The Witch King was but the servant of a greater master, and none since Isildur have defeated him."
The prince looked to the Mithrandir in shock, but his heart accepted his words and knew the truth of them. He marked that the Ithron had addressed a feeling that he had not spoken of; that had come upon him unbidden and unconsidered in a moment.
"'Tis a testament to thy upbringing that thou would feel such," Mithrandir said, "for it grows from the nobility in thy heart. I have seen many kings who cared not so deeply for their people."
"The rule of a king is only legitimized by his people's allegiance, and that is earned by his care for them. Without that care and the loyalty his people offer in return, a king's rule loses legitimacy and descends into tyranny. Aran no e-mbuidir gwaith hon¹." ¹(Aran no e-mbuidir gwaith hon, A king is the servant of his people. Sindarin)
The Ithron nodded in agreement, and yet, "Some who are rightly kings may not name themselves thus, even if they have the lineage and feel the responsibilities of rule."
"Lineage makes one a noble by birth," the prince replied, "and such may feel responsible for their people even if they rule not in name and their people know them not."
He was thinking of the history told to him by Berior, of Lebennin's First Guardians who had ruled their realm for twelve hundred years without e'er taking rulers' titles, establishing a court, or designating a capital. He knew not that soon, t'would apply to himself as well.
"My lord Níshír, the people of Fornost dwell as refugees in Lindon with the grace of the Lord Círdan, yet I would have them return to the lands of Men and make new homes. I know that many of them have come to fear the lands to the north and returning thither is dangerous for them now that Fornost is filled with the Witch King's wights. The realm of Arthedain is fore'er changed. Hast thou and thy people room amongst them for more of the Dúnedain, here in The Angle, or elsewhere in the realm of Rhudaur?"
"We are mostly farmers and tradesmen in The Angle and we have such room for Men as the land can support," Lord Níshír said. "Our Rangers number but two and one half thousands and serve only for the defense of our homes. We march not to war beyond our borders, yet those include all the lands of the old Kingdom of Rhudaur. In The Angle, and in the lands north of the road on both sides of the Hoarwell, there is much empty land that was once the abode of Men. The lands beyond the Hoarwell that were once the east march of Cardolan are also uninhabited since the Great Plague, and o'er those we have no claim. One prohibition only do we hold to, that none settle east of the Bruinen, for that is Elvish country and thither we set no foot."
"The lands of the old Kingdom of Rhudaur encompass roughly fifty thousand square miles," Lady Athelrian said, "and it hosts but thirty-one thousand of our people."
At the look of surprise on the prince's face, she smiled and added, "I am Chief Healer of this realm, my lord, and the count of its people is important to me, whilst the area of these lands is known from of old."
He nodded to her and then said, "Ere our losses defeating Angmar, forty-seven thousands of my people sheltered in Lindon. An additional twelve to fifteen thousands resided on private holdings in the countryside, but they have been driven off and I know not what count has survived the war."
"They shall be welcome, Prince Aranarth. Pray lead them hence," Lord Níshír said. "One boon I would beg of thee. Build no great city in Rhudaur, for by doing thus would thou attract the evil that has laid low the kingdoms of Arnor. As a realm of farmers and herdsmen, this town and our people have long endured, and perhaps thy people shall do likewise."
Prince Aranarth bowed to the Lord of Celenhár in acceptance of his welcome and his request.
"I had thought the same, lord, and my people who abide in thy realm shall do as do thine own. We shall not again draw the attention of the enemy with fortresses or standing armies. That way has failed and shall not be again in the north so far as I can foresee."
On that day, the Prince of Arthedain and the Lord of Celenhár clasped forearms as allied warriors, and thereafter the changes King Arvedui had imagined came to pass. In the following months, the prince returned to Lindon, and there declared his strategy for the survival of the northern Dúnedain. During the remaining months of 1975 and through the year 1976, the people of Fornost migrated east, taking the old King's Road through the Emyn Beraid, the Far and White Downs, crossing Sûza, (to the amazement of the Periannath), ere passing o'er Baranduin by the Bridge of Stonebows. Then down the East Road they marched, past the crossroads where no few looked north with mingled fear and longing towards their old home of Fornost. They made their way through Bree and then east, past Weathertop and 'cross Central Eriador north of the Lone Lands of Cardolan, and finally o'er the Last Bridge and into the Troll Shaws of Rhudaur.
During that sojourn they were guarded by the remaining army of Arthedain, fourteen thousand surviving warriors of the last Dúnedain kingdom of the north. 'Twas their last march. Upon their arrival in The Angle, they doffed their long familiar uniforms and took up the garb and the ways of the Rangers. By 1980, all had been trained. Towns and farms sprang up in The Angle, 'cross the emptied lands of Rhudaur, and even into the eastern borderlands of old Cardolan. True to his word, no cities were built and no strong places with walls or fortifications rose in those lands. In five years, Prince Aranarth had transformed a kingdom.
Now in mid-Ivanneth of 1975, a lone warrior had returned to Celenhár and great was the wonder and rejoicing amongst the Rhudaurim and the Dúnedain. As she was sometimes wont to do, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel simply appeared on the road leading into the town, her prior approach unmarked by the Rangers of either people. She stayed only long enough to meet with the Lord Níshír and Mithrandir, and she briefly held council with Lord Aranarth as well.
"My lords, I am newly returned from the Cold Fells and the defeat of the Witch King…again. A fortnight past I wounded him severely and he fled unhoused back to his master. Alas, he was not slain."
"Yet thou hast encompassed his defeat for a fourth time, and I deem that so long as he can flee thee, he shall do so if the contest goes against him," Mithrandir said, shaking his head.
The Ithron now recognized that the most deadly enemy of the Dark Lord's servants was recognized as too deadly to abide in battle. Tindomul would not give Helluin a sufficient opportunity to actually slay him. His final defeat might only come in an attack so unexpected that he would be destroyed ere he marked his jeopardy.
Helluin nodded to her old friend. She would have to contrive some disguise, or perhaps some other subterfuge. She could imagine Mithrandir's train of thought, for it mirrored one she had entertained herself whilst negotiating the crags and ghylls of the Troll Shaws.
"So he is gone from the north," Lord Níshír said. "Perhaps this time he shall not return."
Helluin raised an eyebrow in question, and Lord Aranarth answered.
"The Kingdom of Arthedain is no more," he said. "Ne'er again shall the Dúnedain draw the enmity of the Enemy by the appearance of strength. Fornost shall stand empty and no armies shall march 'neath the banners of the North Kingdom. Like our friends in Rhudaur, we shall become Rangers. We shall safeguard our people better by not inviting the wrath of the Witch King to be visited upon them again and again 'til all are gone."
Helluin nodded in understanding. The prince was making a great sacrifice, and yet there was virtue in his plan. She would not loose an arrow with no target, and she deemed Sauron would act alike.
"Then I have but one further action to take ere I return to Imladris," she said. "Lord Aranarth, I propose to attempt to learn the fate of thy father, the king."
Aranarth looked at her with curiosity in his eyes.
"Howsoe'er dost thou propose to do thus, Helluin, for we are many hundreds of miles from the Bay of Forochel. Círdan's mariners returned not to Mithlond and none know for sure where the rescue ship was lost."
She nodded her agreement.
"I shall seek not for the ship or the king, only for such tokens as he bore that are immune to the weather and the whims of the world."
Still neither the lord of Celenhár, nor the lord of the Dúnedain understood her intent, but Mithrandir gave her a nod of agreement, for what he suspected would shortly come to pass was a thing of interest to him as well.
"Proceed then, meldis nín, for I deem thine inspiration worthy of an attempt," the Ithron said.
"I shall seek for the palantíri, and with thee I shall share the memories of my sight," she explained to Aranarth.
Now Helluin concentrated on the Seeing Stones, though none gathered 'nigh marked 'aught unusual save that her concentration was deep and her sight turned to some vista within. First to the Palantír of Annúminas she called, to initiate a contact and see in her mind's eye whatsoe'er that stone would show. She felt a slight resistance, easily o'ercome, as if the aether was thick.
Four hundred fifty miles to the northwest and fifteen fathoms down, a few crabs and some bottom dwelling fish were startled to flight or scuttling retreat from the stone that suddenly burst into a ril of light. On the sea bottom in cold darkness it lay, half buried in silt. Far above, dim light scintillated off the surface chop. Shadows slipped 'round in the mid-distance, larger fish, or perhaps some unknown leviathans of the deep. 'Tis drowned in the northern sea, lost to all 'til the end of days when the world is changed.
Helluin withdrew from the Master Stone of the North and took a deep, cleansing breath. Then she resumed her concentration, calling to the Palantír of Amon Sûl.
Two fathoms from the larger Stone, the smaller palantír flared to life. Unlike the larger and heavier Master Stone, it had fallen onto a silt cushioned ledge of rock, and there it sat with well 'nigh its full surface exposed. Again she saw darkness with faint sunlight above, and the movements of sea life at a short distance. Crabs and eels and sea cucumbers crawled, slithered, or trundled away from the blazing foreign light.
Helluin explored the surrounding terrain, and nearby, on the opposite side of the larger Seeing Stone, she espied the remains of a corpse lying crumpled on the sea floor. Though fish eaten so that she could make no identification by its face, she marked a hand and sleeve, and the bend of an arm at the elbow. Ragged was that cloth, and yet in the light of the palantír she identified the damasked design of the royal house, the emblem of the House of Isildur. Here lies King Arvedui in his final rest. Carefully she looked at his curled left hand and finally realized that what was not seen was more important than what was. He bore not to his grave the Ring of Barahir!
On the bottom of the Bay of Forochel, the Seeing Stone went dark.
For some time following the withdrawal of her consciousness from the Seeing Stone, Helluin sat, breathing deeply and recovering from the effort. Mithrandir watched her carefully. Finally, she blinked and exhaled, then looked to the Lord Aranarth.
"I have seen the final resting place of the palantíri and more, and I believe thou shall find great profit in my memories. Come, my lord, look into my eyes and I shall share with thee," she said.
With a nod and mixed apprehension and eagerness, Aranarth looked deeply into the Noldo's eyes. There he felt himself subsumed in a field of blue that swallowed his consciousness. In the next moment he gasped, for he saw what Helluin had seen. He was at the bottom of the sea! Fear of drowning took him and he briefly struggled, but then his spirit was calmed by a stronger will.
Fear not lord, for 'naught that thou see can endanger thee. 'Tis a vision only.
Then for a few minutes he saw what Helluin had seen, of the locations of the palantíri and of all that surrounded them. He saw the body of his father, and his father's hand.
Whether lost, hidden, or committed to the care of another, the Ring of Barahir abides not with the king's remains, Helluin said in his mind's ear.
He looked closer and saw the truth of it. Then in the next moment, he was back in the town hall of Celenhár with friends and sunlight 'round him. Helluin had blinked, dismissing the spell.
"For thy visions I thank thee, Lady Helluin," Lord Aranarth said. "I have much to think on."
Helluin nodded to him. Perhaps on some future day when the realm and his people were again settled, some expedition to the north might be undertaken to discover more, but for now, other concerns weighed more heavily, and in any case, she had her own investigation pending.
"My lords, I take my leave. I must come to Imladris and then go o'er the Hithaeglir, for in his last moments, Tindomul provided a clue. He spoke of Beinvír, saying, "She was brought to my master long ago. I saw her not, yet I wager none have seen her since." I wager he was mistaken and some have seen her."
Mithrandir looked at her sharply. In the time when Beinvír disappeared, Sauron's wraiths had still inhabited Dol Guldur. Perhaps their master had come there too.
"Thou go to Dol Guldur," he said.
Helluin nodded 'aye' and the Men blanched. "I have visited that dark fastness aforetime and fear it not. Should any linger there still, they shall answer me or die…and die," she corrected herself.
Shortly later, the Ithron sighed as Helluin stalked out of the hall. He still desired to question her about her ability to contact the palantíri remotely, and to sense or usurp connections already established, for no tale he had e'er heard spoke of such abilities.
Now like the old uniforms of the army of Arthedain, the prince doffed his title. He was no longer called Prince Aranarth, and he refused the kingship long after 'twas acknowledged that his father had perished in the Bay of Forochel. Instead he took only the title of Chieftain, a throwback and homage to the earliest days of the Atani ere they raised any kingdom of Men. Though he no longer held royal office or title, still he felt the weight of the Oath of Argeleb, and he honored the promises that Elendil had made so long ago.
To the new lands of the northern Dúnedain in 1976 had come Queen Fíriel, Prince Artamir, and Princess Artanis, along with their householders, accompanying the last of their people from Lindon. The reunion of the new chieftain with his family was an occasion of joy, and for a time they settled in Celenhár where they held much concourse with Lord Níshír, his family, and the Lady Athelrian and her daughter. The newest member of the household, Almiril the healer of Gondor, found much to speak of with the Chief Healer of the realm of Rhudaur and they spent great tracts of time together. Almiril learnt much lore related to the herbs of Eriador and shared what she knew of the healing arts as they were practiced in Gondor.
During those days the ex-princess Artanis was also welcomed by the Rhudaurim, and o'er the course of the months following her arrival, she spent e'er increasing amounts of time in the company of a young Ranger of Rhudaur who understood what it meant to be country royalty. It had taken no more than a single meeting for Prince Gwíthír to be smitten with the young princess, and truth be told, she found him charming, bold, and daring as well. That he was also quite handsome detracted not at all. She was nineteen in the year of her arrival in Celenhár, the prince was but four years her senior, and ere 1977 opened, 'twas expected by the people that they would soon be celebrating the betrothal of their lord's heir to the princess of Arthedain.
One further testament to young love blossomed in Celenhár in those days. Prince Artamir, then twenty-eight years of age, found himself increasingly attracted to the Lady Brennil. Seeking to impress her, he applied himself to learning the ways of the Rangers as he had ne'er applied himself to 'aught else aforetime. His labors bore fruit and he became one of the most proficient of that first generation of Rangers of Arthedain, a superb tracker and hunter, deadly with the bow. Indeed his prowess with that weapon was deemed well 'nigh supernatural and his skill was acclaimed as close to Elvish as a mortal Man might attain. The Lady Brennil, then twenty-seven years of age, found the younger prince reserved and considerate, yet dashing and courageous at need. He was well read and knowledgeable in lore, as was his elder brother, yet he was lighter of spirit, having not been burdened all his life with the responsibilities and preparation to rule. She found his humor sharp and irreverent yet ne'er mean-spirited, and o'er the course of a year watched as he conducted patrols or helped farmers harvest crops with equal efficiency and enthusiasm. Her people were growing to love him, and she found her heart turned to him as well.
The courtship of Artamir and Brennil was conducted with greater discretion and lessened public demonstration, yet no less passion than their younger counterparts, once their feelings were declared. That courtship was advanced in 1978 when Queen Fíriel decided to pay a visit to the realm of Imladris, which was now close enough that there could be no excuse for continued estrangement. They were, after all, distant kin of the Peredhel, and the Lord of Imladris had many times aided the Northern Dúnedain.
So 'twas that a state embassy was planned and the royal family of Arthedain, along with some representatives of the Rhudaurim and the First House made their arrangements to ride east. Along with Fíriel went Aranarth attending a guarded coffer, and Artamir. Almiril, who sought to learn 'aught that she could from the Lord Elrond and the healers of Imladris, went at the suggestion of Lady Athelrian who would make the trip with Lord Níshír and Lady Brithil. Lady Athelrian's daughter Brennil would also accompany them. For security on the East Road there would ride several companies of Rangers drawn equally from the Rhudaurim and the Dúnedain.
Predictably, Gwíthír and Artanis chose to remain in Celenhár, ostensibly as insurance of royal continuity, but mostly so that they could enjoy some time alone without familial supervision. By then they had been betrothed for 'nigh a year and thought to work on wedding plans in their parents' absence.
One other dignitary chose to ride to the Hidden Valley at that time, and this was the Ithron Mithrandir. He had lingered for years in Celenhár by then, but had seen his primary concern, the adoption of the Ranger ways by the Dúnedain of Arthedain accomplished. He now felt no necessity to remain and other concerns called him east. By then, for o'er a year he had felt the premonition of something dark festering in the mountains.
To Be Continued