In An Age Before – Part 235
Chapter One Hundred forty-nine
Minas Morgul – The Third Age of the Sun
There was no way that Helluin had expected to spend so many years in Gondor, yet those years had passed quickly and there had been so many times when her skills had been invaluable to the king and the steward. Following the initial council in which she and the two Dúnedain Rangers had met the lords of Gondor, there had been few remaining doubts regarding her intentions or her ingenuity. After what she had shown them, and a more careful review of Gondor's lore regarding her personal history coupled with Draugrán and Dúnriel's stories of her campaigns to aid Arthedain against the Witch King, Eärnil, Eärnur, and Vorondil felt 'twas their own prowess that was in doubt. After all, they had lost Minas Ithil and its palantír.
A week following their initial meeting, when his lore masters had examined the accounts of the Great War and gathered details to present their king with a comprehensive report, Eärnil summoned Helluin to his chamber on the morn of 23 Narbeleth. There he asked what imperatives bore upon her time. With Eriador at peace, they had agreed that Gondor was the realm most at risk.
"If thou would, Helluin, I pray thee consider remaining for a time of thy choosing here in the South Kingdom. None know the wiles and deceits of the Enemy so well. Thine aid would be indispensable to me and my people."
Helluin was only mildly surprised by Eärnil's request, having reckoned that t'would have been voiced several days earlier. In the meantime, the Noldo had wandered the city and spent time conversing with the soldiers garrisoned there. She had found their morale understandably diminished, but far from defeatist. Preparedness was respectable within the limits of manpower and deployment, though she deemed that might change with the withdrawal of some troops from the eastern frontier. All in all, she judged the posture of the regular army sufficient. She next desired to appraise the status of the Lebennin Rangers serving in Ithilien.
"Your Majesty, as thou say, the north is at peace, and I have already done what I deem I can for Khazad-dûm," she said. "With the threat of the Nazgûl so newly manifest, I reckon t'would be prudent for me to remain in Gondor 'til more of the Enemy's intentions can be fathomed.
Whilst reacquainting myself with Minas Tirith, I have marked the preparedness of the city and the temper of the soldiers. With thy blessing, I should like to learn the morale of the Rangers, for theirs is the greatest jeopardy in meeting the threat of Minas Morgul. With the Men of Lebennin, I have some history that may stand me in good stead when touring their positions."
From Turor¹, the ranking Ranger Commander in the city, the king had learnt of Helluin and Beinvír's status as First Guardians of Lebennin and their training of the Rangers long ago. He knew of Cónhal Beinvír's command of them during the War of the Last Alliance, the only time that Mordor had taken Isildur's city and Gondor had reclaimed it. He also knew why the Nazgûl had not participated in their master's greatest war. ¹(Turor, Able Man = turo-(v. able) + -or(n. on v. agent suff) Sindarin)
Although the Men of Lebennin were accounted Men of Gondor and their Rangers were vital to Gondor's armed forces, their actual tactics and deployments were less well known. They acted 'neath their own commanders who liaised with the Army of Gondor, accepting orders and achieving objectives largely in their own manner and using their own methods. To say that they were scouts and archers was to do them little justice, for the Army of Gondor had both, but they were not Rangers.
Decades ago during his time as a captain, King Eärnil had learnt what all Captains of Gondor learnt. Convey to the commander of the Rangers attached to his company what end was desired and then refrain from o'ermanaging them. Trust was essential and their loyalty had ne'er been questioned. Such tasks as could be reasonably assigned to light, mobile infantry were discharged efficiently. Oft times though, he had wondered how. Perhaps his guest could aid him in understanding.
"Helluin, I have no qualms if thou seek to meet with the Rangers of Lebennin," the king said. "There are Ranger commanders in the city that can avail thee in taking the measure of those deployed to Ithilien, if that be thy desire."
"Then I shall do so and soon, Your Majesty, and so that they may meet their southern counterparts, I shall take Draugrán and Dúnriel with me," Helluin said. "Thou hast my thanks."
That afternoon, Helluin met with Turor and his lieutenants, Bregedur and Faradrim¹ at the Ranger compound within the army's garrison in the Second Circle. That meeting was more than cordial, for the Rangers had known of the arrival of Helluin, Draugrán, and Dúnriel a week aforetime and had been intensely curious about the northern Rangers. With Helluin, they were simply reverent. ¹(Bregedur, Wildfire Sindarin, Faradrim, Hunter Sindarin)
When the three entered the compound, Húveren at Draugrán's heels, they found well 'nigh e'ery Ranger not on duty lined up and standing at attention as if for review. Before them stood their lieutenants, and at their head, Turor, their commander. At their first sight of Helluin, e'ery head dipped and e'ery right hand reached up to clutch the Sarchram broaches fastening their cloaks. Not a single Ranger moved. They were silent and they were still. Then Helluin bowed her head in return, but instead of simply returning upright, she lifted the Sarchram from the clip at her waist and raised the Ring Blade o'erhead. Calling to that fraction of her fëa that lived within the weapon, the Noldo caused the Sarchram to blaze with a brilliance that eclipsed the sun. The ril illuminated the Rangers, leapt o'er the wall of the Second Circle, and then expanded in a sphere that raced away 'cross the Pelennor. 'Twas so abrupt that a clap of thunder had been expected.
The accursed Nine who gloat in Isildur's city shall feel that as a blow upon their undead spirits and they shall know that their eternal enemy walks these lands.
For some moments afterwards, the mortals blinked and seemed confused, for each felt a quickening of their courage and resolve. They had been anointed with the ancient Light of Aman and felt the same desire for ennoblement that had once led the Calaquendi into the west, yearning for the Light that they had seen in the face of the Vala Oromë. 'Twas the last blessing that the Noldo had left to confer, and expecting they would face great darkness, 'twas the last augmentation of their ancient training that she could offer. Alas that it could not be passed on to the next generation in blood.
"Commander Turor, I would beg a boon on behalf of my friend, Draugrán," Helluin asked the Ranger commander afterwards.
"Helluin, there is little that a Ranger of Lebennin would deny to a First Guardian," the commander said with a smile. "Pray name thy boon and we shall grant it if it be within the power of mortal Men to do so."
"'Tis no great thing, yet 'tis important to us. I would commit to thy troops the care of a friend 'til such time as we return hither. Pray keep safe the small hound Húveren. He is faithful and honorable, but he hath no place in the Morgul Vale."
Turor nodded to Helluin, casting a glance down at the young dog that looked up at him and wagged his tail. A soft smile graced the Ranger's features.
"I wager t'will be no hardship for us to do so, Helluin, and indeed many of my Men are long away from home and their families and pets. Duty has called them from what was familiar, and the chance to regain a trace of that comfort will be welcome. I wager that Húveren here shall make many friends amongst us."
Helluin engaged the dog eye to eye and told him, Húveren, pray remain in the company of these Rangers 'til Draugrán and Dúnriel return. We should be gone two fortnights I reckon.
Whyfor, Helluin? May I not accompany my friends to whate'er end they march? I am not afraid.
I doubt not thy heart, my friend. Yet we go into a place of great evil where thou shalt find neither wholesome food nor water, and where we may needs remain silent and still for many hours on end. T'would be a torment to one of thine exuberance, and to no worthy end. 'Tis 'naught to be gained and much to lose.
I think I understand, Helluin, though to be separated from my friends shall be a torment in itself. Art thou certain I shall not be abandonated?
Nay, thou shalt not be abandonated, but rather, I wager thou shalt make many new friends amongst the Men of Lebennin. I believe thou shalt find them much akin to the Men of Rhudaur, though they dwell far away.
Very well, Helluin, though it brings me little gladness, I shall abide here for a time and make the best of it. Pray allow me to bid my friends farewell. I shall look to their return.
Look then to the east, four weeks hence, my friend.
There followed a heartfelt farewell 'twixt Húveren, Draugrán, and Dúnriel, complete with many sloppy kisses, frantic wiggling and tail wagging, and much crotch sniffing.
Ere the third hour following noon had passed, Helluin, Draugrán, Dúnriel, Bregedur, and a company of one hundred Rangers of Lebennin rode from the gates of Minas Tirith and set out east 'cross the Pelennor, down the road to Osgiliath.
From a high chamber in the White Tower, Eärnil and Vorondil watched them recede into the haze of distance 'til they passed from mortal sight. The king sighed. Taking her leave had required little time, and she had enlisted half the Rangers remaining in the city to go with her. From their high window, they had marked the flaring of Light, and they too had felt its effect.
King Eärnil turned to his steward and said, "What have thine investigations revealed?"
"Lord, I have consulted the Royal Archives and searched the charts of lineage. Her ancestor came hither in Isildur's second ship and settled at Pelargir 'til the White City was raised. They have dwelt here since."
"So they are come of an ancient house, born into, rather than married into, the old blood of Númenor?"
"Indeed so, my lord," Vorondil said. He had felt as if fate crouched upon his shoulder and breathed down his neck when he had read the charts. "Thirty-five generations are named leading back to Lady Almiel of the House of Andúnië. Almiel was the daughter of Inzilbêth vesse Ar-Gimilzôr."
"A princess of the Royal House?"
"She was the third child, the younger sister of Inziladûn and Gimilkhâd. She laid no claim to the throne and was counted amongst the Faithful," the steward said. "My lord, Lady Almiel wed Lord Númandil, the 17th Lord of Andúnië…"
"Lady Almiel was the High King Elendil's grandmother?" The king asked in shock.
"Aye, my lord. 'Twas their grandchild, a daughter and the second child of a second child, that rode to Pelargir in her second-cousin Isildur's ship. My lord, the Lady Almiril hails from a lateral branch of the House of the Lords of Andúnië in Númenórë."
"And now she is wed to Chieftain Aranarth, the Heir of Isildur and Anárion," the king mused. "Vorondil, what is going on here?"
"T'would seem that 'chance' seeks to concentrate strains from some of the most noble bloodlines still extant," the steward said. "My lord, we must keep track of the descent in the House of Chieftains hereafter. Not only are they the Heirs of Isildur and Anárion, but the next chieftain may also claim kinship with the Lords of Andúnië who gave rise to the first kingly blood of the exiled Dúnedain. I fear that in the future, their birthright shall also include ties to the First House of the Atani and the fathers of the Edain."
Neither Man wished to admit that in this case, 'chance' was 'nigh certainly synonymous with The Will of the Valar…Námo, most likely.
The steward paused a moment, then added, "Should such an heir then wed an Elvish princess, so unassailable a claim to the thrones of Gondor and Arnor could he lay that his kingship would become truly inexorable."
Such had come to pass but twice aforetime, when Tuor had wed Idril and when Beren had wed Lúthien, and though Vorondil had spoken in jest to lighten their counsels, his joke fell flat for 'twas no more unlikely now than it had been in the First Age.
King Eärnil groaned. He too could imagine just such events taking place in the years ahead.
His own claim to the throne had been tenuous at best. By all right and the laws of Númenor, Aranarth should be High King. And I have not forgotten the prophecy of Malbeth. Yet if such should come to pass, I shall not live to see it. I pray my son shall not see it either. In this wish, King Eärnil would be rewarded.
Now in the evening of the 23rd, Helluin and the Rangers came to the Pelennor Wall, and there they encamped for the night. The Noldo marked the nervousness of the soldiers posted in the gate towers of the garrison that o'ersaw the road leading down to Osgiliath. No few sat on the wall walks after their duty shifts ended, unable to sleep in peace.
And then they nod off during their watches the next day, likely as not, she thought. They are jumpy as cats. Perhaps their captains should take up the wisdom of their naval counterparts and distribute rations of grog with the evening meal.
Helluin kept such counsels to herself as she watched the Rangers dozing in their bedrolls whilst a few of their number kept watch o'er their cold camp. The soldiers of the regular army cast them a few pitying glances, for they knew whither they were bound.
Morning came and after consuming some rations, the Rangers continued their ride east shortly after dawn, down the causeway from the gates, and after five miles, through the west gate of Osgiliath. A detail of nervous sentries had admitted them and shortly later, they passed a larger garrison of even more nervous soldiers who held the western bank. Helluin was astonished at the changes since she had last taken her leave in 1447. Now she saw buildings standing empty and market squares deserted. The park where she and Beinvír had met the orange tabby in Berúthiel's time was o'ergrown and untended.
Helluin and the Rangers did not tarry at the garrison, but rather rode onward to the city's causeway. 'Neath it still ran the cobbled streets, ramshackle houses, and winding alleys of the low town. 'Naught but a few lines with clothes flapping in the river breeze as they dried attested to any inhabitants. For the most part, the neighborhoods were silent save for the soft sound of water lapping against the stone piers that supported the city. The Noldo wondered if any patrons yet gathered at The Knave's Redoubt, ne'er knowing that it had been renamed following the passing of King Eldacar.
Upon the causeway, the grand mansions were shuttered and the pretentious shops boarded up. The offices of bureaucrats were long abandoned, for all the trappings of Gondor's government had been moved to Minas Anor in 1640. The clop of their horses' hooves sounded hollow on the paving stones where no city noises contested with their echoes. At the end of the causeway, the Royal Precinct lay empty, the palace and the repaired Dome of Stars blighted by neglect. Osgiliath was a city of ghosts and Helluin found it all more melancholic than she had expected.
The column of Rangers continued on, o'er the bridge rebuilt after the Kin strife and towards the eastern gates. Sentries from a garrison met them there, the soldiers appearing even more nervous than those on the western bank had. Each Man they passed looked at them with fear in his eyes, too scared even to offer their pity. Bregedur kept his riders moving at a fast walk, knowing that the less time his Rangers spent amongst such depressed souls, the less their malaise would transfer to them.
The company did not stop for their noon meal 'til they were a mile beyond the city. By then, they had left the road joining Osgiliath with the Morgul Vale behind and had taken a path leading south amidst trees still shedding their leaves at the approach of winter. Bregedur made sure to put some distance 'twixt themselves and the course of the Ithilduin, the stream that flowed out of the vale hosting Isildur's city. Helluin marked that the Rangers now called it the Morgulduin and would not allow their horses to drink from it.
Their noon meal was a hasty and somber affair. They had paused beside a sparkling rill for the third part of an hour, mostly to rest and water their horses. As was their custom, no fires were kindled and silence reigned. The Rangers sat, eating rations and drinking from their water skins, but only moving when necessary whilst speaking in soft, low voices that carried not. Helluin conversed with Álfrhestr in silence as he sampled some grass.
Helluin, what is wrong with these lands? The others are nervous and the Men seem unsettled as well. We passed what seemed a perfectly good stream without stopping to drink and the grass here tastes…stale.
These lands are reckoned to be 'neath the shadow of the Nazgûl that seized Minas Ithil last year. Fear of them sets Men's hearts aflutter and the horses feel their riders' dis-ease. The water and the land, and even the air bear a taint of their black conjuring.
Álfrhestr spat out the mouthful of grass he had been chewing.
A bit of warning would be appreciated hereafter, Helluin. I should not enjoy being turned into an Orc just because of bad food.
Helluin resisted the urge to roll her eyes at that.
If thou art not starving at present, pray wait 'til we finish our day's ride. It should not be more than three hours ere we reach the Emyn Arnen. By then, we shall be well past the mouth of the Morgul Vale and far from the water that flows out of it. In any case, thou art unlikely to become an Orch.
A Troll then perhaps…
At that point, Helluin groaned and ceased paying attention. Shortly later, Lieutenant Bregedur mimicked a jay's call and the Rangers mounted and resumed their ride up the woodland path.
They continued south, and after a couple leagues, the land began to rise in a succession of rolling, forested hills that increased in altitude 'til they could see wide vistas 'twixt the boles of the trees. North and south, the land continued on, tree clad 'neath their last autumn color. To the west lay more forest and in places, the sun sparkles off the waters of Anduin. To the east, dark mountains stood shoulder upon shoulder, riven by deep dells and capped with jagged crags. 'Twas the Ephel Dúath that hedged the Black Land of Mordor. The slopes rose up to seven hundred fathoms and lay but seven leagues distant.
"Morn comes late to the Mountains of Shadow," Bregedur whispered at Helluin's side as he canted his head to the east.
"In the woods at their feet, the shadows are ne'er lifted," Helluin replied, "and 'tis 'nigh as daunting as Mirkwood."
"Fewer spiders though, I wager," the Ranger muttered.
Soon they came upon a lordly estate standing alone in the distance, close to the eastern verge of the hills, and they marked the rear of an ancient and stately castle. Helluin saw windows boarded up and deemed it abandoned.
"'Tis the ancestral home of the House of Húrin. He was Lord Steward to King Minardil and labored against the Great Plague after that pestilence took King Telemnar and his family," Bregedur said when he marked Helluin surveying the estate. "He was the ancestor of Vorondil and Pelendur ere him."
Helluin nodded to the lieutenant, understanding now why 'twas deserted. A steward's duties demanded his presence in Minas Anor and safety demanded that his family not reside so close to Minas Morgul. Besides, 'twas all too close to the Ithilien Road.
"We keep watch on it, but cannot spare Men to occupy it," the lieutenant said.
They both knew its position was too compromised and its strategic value too limited, for 'twas a sitting target, sooner or later to be struck.
The riders continued o'er the crowns of the hills 'til they reached a grassy meadow in the central slopes with a stream running amidst a clearing surrounded by trees. By then, they had ridden eighteen miles from the east gate of Osgiliath. Bregedur gave the Rangers a series of hand signs ordering them to make camp. The Men dismounted and freed their horses of their tack, allowing them to drink and graze. Some of the Rangers broke off and entered the trees to set a defensive cordon whilst several small parties took their bows and went out hunting.
"Pray join me, First Guardian and ye northern Rangers," Lieutenant Bregedur requested after assuring himself that the camp preparations were settling into their well-practiced routines.
Helluin, Dúnriel and Draugrán rose and followed the lieutenant as he walked away from the campsite. He took a path, barely to be seen amidst the underbrush and leaf mold, that wound west amidst the trees and down the slope at the far side of the meadow. It crossed a shallow hollow and then ascended the facing hill, cresting the top ere dropping into a deep dingle with steep, rocky slopes to which twisted trees clung by grasping roots.
Strange rock formations rose from the far slope and Helluin immediately felt that they were not alone. For but a moment, Dúnriel and Draugrán froze, sensing their surroundings, and then in a heartbeat, both had arrows on their bowstrings and were searching for targets. Helluin too had prepared to shoot, but she had picked her target straightaway and held a well-camouflaged figure at arrow point.
"Come forth, for I would hate to shoot thee untimely," the Noldo said softly, knowing that she would be heard.
'Twas only after Lieutenant Bregedur whistled the mimicry of a spotted woodpecker's call that three Rangers broke cover and walked out onto the trail. They had been well-hidden, keeping watch on the trail from established blinds. Though they bore bows, they had not nocked arrows. Most likely, they would have only prepared to shoot when foes had already passed their position and were being confronted by a greater force to the fore. Seeing that they were also Rangers of Lebennin, Helluin, Draugrán, and Dúnriel relaxed their draws and replaced their arrows in their quivers.
The sentries greeted Lieutenant Bregedur and then saluted the First Guardian. Unlike the soldiers of Gondor that they had passed in Osgiliath, these Rangers appeared hopeful despite the hazards of their deployment. 'Twas the presence of the Noldo that helped lift their morale.
The lieutenant spoke softly with the sentries, receiving a report on the status of the troops, and then led the trio down the path 'til they came to the opening of a cave. There more sentries waited, but Bregedur, Helluin, Dúnriel, and Draugrán were swiftly admitted. Within was concealed a well-stocked stronghold of the Rangers wherein o'er a hundred rested whilst twice their count walked patrols. They met with the commander, another lieutenant well known to Bregedur, who saluted Helluin in the Ranger fashion.
"How stands thy post, old friend?" Bregedur asked.
"No changes have been reported in the last fortnight," she said. "'Tis good to see thee free of the city, Bregedur." They shared a smile at that. "I mark that thou hast brought an illustrious guest and two more swords."
"Rinthûl¹, I wager thou recognized First Guardian Helluin Maeg-móremenel immediately, but accompanying her from Eriador are the Dúnedain Rangers, Draugrán and Dúnriel," Bregedur said. "First Guardian, may I present Lieutenant Rinthûl, a childhood friend who commands the watch detail on Emyn Arnen." "¹(Rinthûl, Cyclone (lit. 'Circular Wind') = rind(circular) + sûl(wind) The –d becomes –th and the –s becomes –h at the partition in Sindarin names. The doubled –h is elided. Sindarin)
"Suilaid nín, Lieutenant Rinthûl. How stand thy Rangers?" Helluin asked.
"Suilaid nín, First Guardian. Save when tidings come of enemy movements, fifty keep watch at the mouth of the Morgul Vale. Another hundred are divided to hold the Ithilien Road for ten leagues north and south of the crossroads," Rinthûl reported, standing at attention as if briefing a council before her king. "A further fifty secure these hills, run supplies, and bear messages. The companies are relieved each fortnight. Thus far, we have not been sorely challenged."
"That is good tidings, commander," Helluin said, offering a smile in hope of lessening her formality. "Draugrán and Dúnriel are two of the new Dúnedain Rangers of Eriador, scions of the fallen realm of Arthedain. I have brought them hither to meet ye who have been steadfast defenders of the southlands through two Ages of the world."
The northern Rangers bowed to Lieutenant Rinthûl and she offered them a dip of her head in acknowledgement. Truth be told, 'twas strange for her, seeing two of the bright-eyed Dúnedain in the raiment of Rangers. In the south, Rangers were not Dúnedain and Dúnedain were not Rangers. These two appeared young to the lieutenant's eyes, but with their heritage, they could be much older, and they were tall, taller than any of her folk. Draugrán stood o'er half a head above her with Dúnriel but a hand's breadth shorter than he. Rinthûl marked that they displayed no tokens of rank, meaning that they were not officers in the north. Otherwise, their kit and weapons could have come from Linhir, so familiar were they.
"I am curious, Draugrán and Dúnriel," she said, noting that they came to attention when addressed. "Do the Dúnedain of the north now train as Rangers as well as soldiers of the army?"
"Lieutenant, there is no regular army in the north any longer," Dúnriel said.
"Since the defeat of Angmar, there have been only Rangers," Draugrán added.
"Our people rebuilt no cities, maintain no fortifications, and display no military presence," Dúnriel said. "Our chieftain, Aranarth son of Arvedui chose obscurity, the better to protect his subjects."
Rinthûl nodded. In 1409, the Witch King had arisen in Angmar, and he had attacked Arthedain again and again 'til it fell. Now that the Nazgûl had taken Minas Ithil, she could see the beginning of the same story being repeated in the south. Even should Gondor defeat the Nine and retake the city, all that had come to pass in Arthedain would be repeated 'til the South Kingdom fell. She sighed.
"I fear that we shall partake of your tale in the days ahead, and deeds in the north betide those to come in the south," she said softly. "Sauron may bear a special hatred for the Dúnedain, but we Men of Twilight who oppose him shall not be spared by virtue of our blood. I deem the days ahead shall grow dark."
"'Tis the tale of Eä as presaged in the First Song, and though we who live within it know not all its phrases, the contention of good and evil is timeless," Helluin said with certainty. "Light has e'er followed dark and the creation of day and night I take as a sign and a promise from the Valar that just as after the Darkening of Valinor, the Mortal Shores were lit. Keep hope, Lieutenant Rinthûl. Should Sauron's night fall upon us, a dawn shall come after."
Despite her lingering doubts, the lieutenant bowed her head and clutched the Sarchram broach at her throat, for how could one of mortal years gainsay the wisdom of an immortal who had come from Aman? Though it took many days, Rinthûl oft found herself contemplating the First Guardian's words in her idle moments, and in time she came to believe wholeheartedly in the hope and promise of which Helluin spoke, for hope is in the nature of Men as Eru made them.
Now Helluin and the Rangers of the North remained with the Rangers of Lebennin in their stronghold as the days of Narbeleth passed. During that time, Dúnriel and Draugrán made many friends amongst the southern Rangers. When 1 Hithui came and the duty rotations commenced, the Dúnedain Rangers joined a Ranger company deploying to the mouth of the Morgul Vale. Helluin accompanied them as well, for she craved to take the measure of the Nazgûl's city and the defensive capabilities of their troops.
Early in the morn of the 1st, fifty Rangers marched northeast, descending from the Emyn Arnen and cutting through the forests of Ithilien. They went afoot, for the company's horses could not be hidden so close to the Ringwraith's valley. Álfrhestr had been upset at first, but the Noldo had offered him the choice of remaining with ample fodder, clean water, and much company, or being turned into an Orc. The young stallion had scarcely debated the matter ere declaring that he preferred to remain a warhorse. 'Round noon, the Rangers reached a narrow valley where the sergeant commanding the fifty patrolling south of the crossroads had his post. There they took counsel to learn if 'aught had changed in the disposition of the Nazgûl's forces.
"First Guardian, there has been no movement from the south, nor any reports of forces coming from Minas Morgul. All is as it hath been, remaining unchanged this past year," he told them.
"Thine are welcome tidings, good sergeant, and thou hast my thanks," Helluin said.
After pausing long enough for the Rangers to take their noon meal, the company continued north, moving through the trees to the west of the Ithilien Road. They saw 'naught of foes or friends and only a few softly whistled mimics of bird calls let them know that those lands were safe. Being in territory occupied by friendlies, they moved with purpose and haste through the afternoon and into the early evening. Their march of ten leagues had been timed so that they reached the mouth of the Morgul Vale in the second hour after sunset. 'Neath the cover of darkness, they formally relieved the watch detail, allowing those fifty Rangers to enjoy full a night's sleep ere they set out for their stronghold in the Emyn Arnen with the dawn of the 2nd.
Now after their arrival, Helluin met with the sergeant commanding the watch detail they had just replaced and they took counsel together, reviewing the most recently updated maps of Imlad Morgul¹. The most valuable of these was drawn to a large scale and encompassed only the section of the valley from mouth to city. In fine lettering were recorded the routes taken by Yrch patrols, the locations of their lookout positions, and all sightings of Ringwraiths since the fall of Isildur's city. It seemed that the Rangers had ventured so far as half a league into the valley, easily close enough to mark the gates and walls of Minas Morgul. Helluin committed the map to memory and thanked the sergeant. ¹(Imlad Morgul, Valley of Black Sorcery Sindarin)
"During the week past, the patrols of Yrch in the Morgul Vale have been increased," he said, "and we have marked 'nigh double their normal frequency at night."
The Nazgûl take seriously my projection of the Light, Helluin thought. The flash she had called forth from the Sarchram whilst still in Minas Tirith had set the enemy on edge and it seemed the Nine now feared attack.
Dawn of 2 Hithui saw Helluin leading a small company consisting of Dúnriel, Draugrán, and four Rangers of Lebennin up the course of the Morgulduin. They moved slowly with their most studied stealth. Not a sound marked their passing. 'Naught was to be seen. Knowing from the map all the known locations of hostile lookout posts, they avoided these, giving them and the routes of Yrch patrols a wide berth. Although moving in daylight afforded less cover than the dark of night, their foes were more active after sunset and spent the daytime hiding from the sun.
O'er the course of their stay in Emyn Arnen and their march north, Helluin had marked no functional differences in the performance of the Rangers, whether they hailed from Eriador or Lebennin. Both cadres had preserved their training intact. This was particularly laudable in the case of the Rangers of Lebennin, whose teachers had been absent for 'nigh on two thousand five hundred years. The Noldo suspected that the Lebennin Rangers were more proficient at sea whilst the Eriador Rangers could withstand cold weather operations better. In Ithilien, neither of these capabilities would be tested.
By that evening, the Ranger company had worked their way up to a small space tucked behind a low, natural parapet of stone, four fathoms above the valley floor in an alcove of the northern arm of the valley. A promontory of a couple hundred feet in height projecting into Imlad Morgul shrouded them from Yrch on the nearby lower section of the dizzying Straight Stair. There was no wood in that place, but they would light no fires. There was no water, but they would not have drunk it in any case. The small watch post had been used by previous Ranger details during the past year, for it o'erlooked a patrol trail frequented by the Yrch.
Helluin and the Rangers settled in to wait. They consumed some rations and drank from their water skins, but none spoke. As the last of Anor's light disappeared from Imlad Morgul, they settled into a motionless state of concentration, each staring at a particular section of the landscape.
They had not long to wait. Ere the quarter part of an hour had passed, they heard the muttered cursing, the jostling of poorly armored bodies, and the tramping of careless feet. Ere they had come into sight, Helluin held up her left hand, five fingers displayed twice, plus two more denoting twelve Yrch approaching. Subtle nods from the Rangers acknowledged her count. Soon, the patrol came into view, a gaggle of a dozen Yrch, close packed and in a foul mood, (as if they were e'er not); paying little heed to stealth whilst trudging along their route, for no danger was expected. E'ery one of the Rangers yearned to shoot them as they passed 'neath their vantage point. Not a one moved and the patrol continued on their path back towards the foot of the Straight Stair. That sequence of events was repeated a half-dozen times ere the first glint of light began to weaken the shadows in Imlad Morgul. The Rangers had counted seventy-two Yrch passing their lookout post during the course of the night. Helluin had memorized e'ery one of them, their faces, their gait, their armor, and their weapons.
During the hours of daylight, the Rangers advanced deeper into the Morgul Vale. With their greatest stealth, they crossed 'neath the bridge that carried the Morgul Road o'er the Ithilduin. By nightfall of 3 Hithui, they had taken up a position in a crevice where a massive boulder had been cloven from the southern cliffs by millennia of weathering. That space was so narrow that they were forced to stand single-file. Then, with one foot braced against each wall, they heaved themselves upwards 'til their feet were a fathom above the floor of the crack and they could, at a snail's pace, stretch their heads up to gain a view of the very gates of Minas Morgul not twenty-five fathoms away.
Helluin clearly perceived the nervousness of the Rangers. The scent of their fear came to her nostrils and she pitied them, for its cause was understandable. Here, they lingered on the very doorstep of the Nine, and the proximity of those accursed wraiths seeped from the stones 'neath their feet. 'Twas not the Men only. They had seen neither beast nor bird since entering the valley. Of sound, 'twas 'naught but the chill breeze flowing down from the Ephel Dúath, sweeping grains of sand from barren rock, and the muffled tinkling of unwholesome waters flowing in the streambed of the Morgulduin.
Now though later accounts have provided a description of Isildur's city as lit with a ghostly, greenish phosphorescence that illuminated 'naught of the surrounding poisoned landscape, and where noxious vapors rose from the stream and swirled 'round, chill as they hugged the ground, all those changes were long ahead. Minas Ithil had fallen little more than a year aforetime and 'twas still easily recognizable to the Men of Gondor. Indeed, save for some fire scarring, projectile impacts on the walls, and the repairs to the broken gates, it looked much as it e'er had, as yet largely unsullied and still a part of the living world.
Perhaps the most egregious change to be marked on that early winter eve was the heap of skeletons carelessly tossed on the ground outside the curtain wall. They were the remains of the defenders, soldiers and citizens of Minas Ithil, slain, butchered, eaten, and finally dumped to create a necropolis. 'Twas appalling and the Rangers seethed at the sight of it. Mercifully, night drew down and the vision of slain comrades cruelly defiled was lost to sight.
O'er the course of that night, the company watched as ten Yrch patrols came and went down trails that had been drawn by the Rangers on their map. Being so close to Minas Morgul, these companies came out of the city, and from the Rangers' vantage point, well 'nigh all of their patrol circuit was visible ere they reentered the gates. The crevice 'twixt the boulder and the southern slope of the valley was the closest the Lebennin Rangers had dared to approach the fallen fortress.
During an interval 'twixt the passage of one patrol and the next, Helluin drew her viewing tube from her travel bag, and with it she examined the walls of the city and its tower. The telescope of Rhûn aided her native vision, already Elven sharp, and she counted the patrols on the wall walks as they paced the battlements above the gate and 'twixt the towers of watch. One phenomenon she marked, and 'twas so peculiar that she stared at it for 'nigh a half-hour just to assure herself that 'twas no enchantment of shifting cloud shadows or moonlight. The Tower of Isildur was silently revolving at a slow and steady pace! This the Noldo discerned as a window passed out of view on one side and another slowly rotated into view on the opposite side.
Now Helluin held her peace, confounded by what she had seen. Those windows with which she had confirmed the movement of the tower, and indeed all the windows in its walls, had been black as the maw of a mineshaft. No hinted light of torch or lamp brightened those dark holes in the façade. Yet Helluin, perceptive as she was of the Shadow and attuned as she was to the Nazgûl in particular, felt that some sleepless evil kept watch there. It ceaselessly surveyed its realm, seeking for the least trace of foes. Knowing this, she was honestly surprised that their company had not been marked, for the Ringwraiths saw not with the same vision as the living. Their sight revealed much that could not be seen by mortal eyes.
At the first rumor of dawn, Helluin signaled the Rangers to the bottom of the crevice, and there, wholly out of sight of the city, she whispered what she had seen and what she believed that it meant. The Rangers were horrified. They withdrew immediately, their stealth as absolute as mortals could manage. They crossed Ithilduin 'neath the bridge and slipped away down the northern side of the valley, not pausing 'til they were beyond the mouth of Imlad Morgul.
On their return to the watch detail, Helluin spoke at length of all she had seen. The commanding Ranger sergeant immediately dispatched a messenger to Emyn Arnen, bearing her tidings to lieutenants Rinthûl and Bregedur. Helluin hoped that Bregedur still tarried thither and could convey her tidings straightaway to Minas Tirith. In the meantime, the Noldo convinced the sergeant to desist in sending his patrols past the bridge o'er the Morgulduin so that they would remain well out of sight of the tower.
"Sergeant Hísring¹, of what I have seen I have no doubts, despite that common sense would say that it cannot be," the Noldo said. "There is a fell presence in the tower and it casts its dead eyes upon the land. Powerful sorcery I deem it, and where there is such, there is surely worse. I only know not why it hath withheld its malice aforetime. We were in a position of great jeopardy." ¹(Hísring, Cold Mist = híth(mist, fog) + ring(cold, chill) In proper nouns, the –th becomes –s. Sindarin)
The sergeant had looked with astonishment at Helluin when she had spoken of the tower, many hundreds of feet tall, with massive stone walls, and surely weighing thousands of tons, rotating in silence, the better to survey all the surrounding lands. Had one of his Rangers claimed such, he would have detained them from further deployment 'til their mentation could be examined by the steward or the king. Because 'twas the First Guardian, he could only believe. He shook his head, as confounded as she.
"I shall restrict the patrols on thine advice, First Guardian, at least 'til we know more of this sorcery. None of the Rangers shall pass the bridge hereafter, and they shall remain out of sight of the tower. Alas for the lost surveillance of that evil place," Hísring said.
Helluin nodded in agreement. T'would indeed be a great loss, to be unable to directly view any movements to and from the enemy stronghold. Still, 'twas the only prudent response. She and Sergeant Hísring were both loath to contemplate the torment any taken prisoner would endure.
Thereafter, the sergeant debriefed the remaining Rangers, but they had little more to add. They were dismissed to take their morning meals. Helluin too went to the company's mess, but afterwards, whilst the Men took a shift of rest, she slipped away, returning to Imlad Morgul, for there were some outstanding details that she wished to examine without bringing mortals into unnecessary danger.
During that day, the Noldo slipped from shadow to shadow, employing the full stealth of the Laiquendi. Slow deliberation served her well. Not even the Rangers marked her passing. With her fëa enshrouded by a wall of ethereal fire, she was invisible to undead eyes as well. So she made her way forward, and in the afternoon, crossed 'neath the bridge o'er Ithilduin and slipped past the crevice where she and the Rangers had spent the previous night.
As the evening of 4 Hithui drew down, Helluin took up a station in the shadow cast by Anor's last light, and there she awaited full darkness, standing still as the stones at her back that formed the side of the southern gate tower of Minas Morgul. There she waited 'til her enemies opened the gate and allowed her entrance to their stronghold.
To Be Continued