In An Age Before

by Phantom Bard

Part 298 posted, in which Helluin and the Riders of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý aid the Third Marshal Haleth in Rohan's defeat of the Easterling invaders. Brutal weather, disease, and failing morale play a part. Aldburg is no sooner freed of the eastern threat when tidings come of the Dunlending's invasion from the west. OCs galore as usual.

242. In An Age Before Chapter 242

In An Age Before – Part 242

Now the Yrch did indeed labor through the night, the 'Snaga' and their slave drivers could be seen in the fields by distant torchlight. But if 'aught moved within the fortress, neither Helluin, nor the Rangers could mark it. With her viewing tube, Helluin scanned the walls and saw none walking or keeping watch. No one stood sentry at the gate, no one came or went upon the roads, and no one appeared at the windows in the tower. 'Twas baffling, for if the fortress was charged with guarding the entrance to the pass and o'erseeing the farmlands, then they did so without showing themselves. Finally, after a couple hours, the Noldo huffed and put away her telescope, confounded.

Had I not seen the lighting of the windows and heard that horn at dusk, I would think this fortress deserted, yet 'tis strategically placed and must surely be occupied, she reasoned. Why then are none to be seen? Yrch are not so stealthy by nature.

Her puzzlement left the Noldo unable to relax. Staring up at the stars whilst reclining on her ground cloth of leech oil-tanned sea cucumber skins brought no tranquility. She wrestled in thought with the quandary and made no progress, chasing reasonings and suppositions 'round in circles 'til she had to admit that her brooding was without profit. Finally, she groaned and rose, rolling and packing her ground cloth back into her travel bag and donning her sword belt.

"Alas, I am unable to set aside my curiosity about yonder fortress," Helluin confessed to Sergeant Orodben, who was commanding the current watch detail. "I have found no rest and reckon I shall do my best thinking afoot. I shall return 'round dawn."

The sergeant nodded to her, acknowledging that he would notify his sentries and the next watch detail of her absence.

With that, she slipped away into the shadows and in moments was lost to sight. Thereafter, she went forward with the full stealth of the Laiquendi, following the easiest route that she could discern to approach the fortress.

From the encampment of the Rangers, Helluin made her way 'round the end of the western spur, constantly climbing uphill to gain the higher ground above the east west road. She chose to remain amongst shadows and behind boulders, using what natural cover the night conferred. For most of the way, the fortress remained out of sight, for if Helluin could not see it, then anyone in the fortress was equally blind to her approach.

After an hour, the Noldo had covered most of a league. The east west road lay well below her position now and the track climbing up to the gates of the fortress ran a bit o'er a furlong to her west. It continued to ascend another couple hundred feet as the ground to Helluin's east dropped into an increasingly steep ravine. By the time that ravine reached the walls of the fortress, the intervening wedge of ground on which she trod was reduced to a dozen yards in width ere ending in a sheer precipice hard by the eastern curtain wall. She was running out of cover.

Helluin stood in the shadowed lee of a boulder and edged her head 'round 'til her right eye cleared the rock and obtained a view of the north wall and the gate. Unsurprisingly, the gate was closed fast. A quick perusal of the battlement o'er it and the wall walks to either side again revealed none standing watch. Close enough now to clearly hear, she marked no clamor of Orkish speech, no howls of Wargs, nor any sounds of clashing arms or marching feet. Absent too were any hints of cruel laughter, torment, brawling, or slaughter. Still uncertain, she could not but proceed forward.

Now by cleaving to the shadows, Helluin reached the gate unseen as the night air. Not even a company of Rangers would have marked her, for stealthy as they had been trained to be, they were mortal Men, and the Noldo had been trained o'er millennia by a Green Elf. In the cloak that she had dyed black in Suꝺriborg, she was indistinguishable from the coal deep shadows at the base of the fortress' wall 'nigh the gate. There she sought for a way to enter, cracks in the masonry that would allow her to scale the wall, or perhaps a postern door. Alas, during the third part of an hour's search, she found 'naught. Finally, she sighed softly and prepared to retreat. By then, she had come to the northeastern corner of the wall at the edge of the precipice. The ravine yawned before her, the drop so close and abrupt that not even a toehold offered a way 'round the eastern side.

Helluin cast a glance to the sky to reckon the remaining hours of darkness. By Ithil's position, she deemed three hours of night remained. And then she saw a shadow passing swift 'cross the face of the moon, soaring ghostly on silent wings. A hope, perhaps fey, but worthy of the risk, or so she deemed it, was born in her heart and caused her to chance a momentary flash of Light, a flare so brief as to be missed in the blink of an eye. It lit the wall and the edge of the ravine, but could not be seen by any within the walls.

The shadow turned, its body hove o'er and the ghost wheeled 'round, approaching like a gust of wind. Two miles it traversed in half a minute and from three furlongs above, eyes as sharp as a great Eagle's espied her dark form amidst the dark walls and rocks. She was as clear and unmistakable as any prey the night hunter had snatched unawares from the rocks of the pass. As the owl dove towards the wall, Helluin spread her arms wide and leapt off the cliff and into the ravine. She fell a hundred feet in the first seconds and had begun to wonder if she had made a tactical error when Glohsúl's talons snagged her pauldrons, jerking her to a halt. Then she was rising into the sky as silent wings beat in the night air.

The great horned owl lofted them high o'er the fortress, and looking down, Helluin saw many bodies littering the bailey within the gate. Others had been slain on the walls and lay still. In the silent fortress, it seemed that not a single Orch or Warg still breathed. True to its nature, Glohsúl sought the heights and brought Helluin to the top of the tower ere hovering a moment and releasing her. The silent hunter then alighted to perch on the battlement.

Strange doings this night, bright one, it said, looking her in the eyes.

My thanks for thine aid, Glohsúl. Strange indeed are the doings hither.

Curious?

Aye, I would learn what fate befell and what foe wrought this slaughter.

If thou discover 'aught, pray share when next we meet, Helluin. I hunt these creatures not, yet another does and that hunter is fell.

I shall tell thee all I learn of what betided.

Then I shall look to our next meeting, bright one. Fair night to thee.

Fair night to thee, Glohsúl.

The owl turned and launched itself o'er the battlement. A moment later, it swept away to the south, out o'er the Ephel Dúath, and was soon lost in the distance. Helluin drew the hood of her cloak o'er her head and came to the battlement where it had perched, and she looked o'er into the bailey below. For a while, the Noldo watched, but 'naught moved and eventually she drew Anguirél, then turned away and went to the stair leading down into the tower. On the way, she marked a carelessly arranged stack of oiled wood, piled to become a beacon fire, and by this, the suspicion of other forts guarding the Ephel Dúath was confirmed to her satisfaction.

Room by room, Helluin descended the tower, and she went warily for 'twas no Orch that had slain so many of its own kind. Nor had one cadre of Yrch murdered another, for the victors would have celebrated their triumph and made a ruckus, easily heard from without the walls. With each room and stair that she passed, wherein only the dead lingered, her trepidation grew. The bodies bore not the wounds of blades, but rather they appeared to have been bludgeoned to death, with skulls stove in and chests crushed by vicious beatings. Those that still clutched their weapons had drawn no blood that she could see. They had been o'ermastered by an assailant far beyond their prowess.

At the base of the tower, Helluin silently entered a great hall, poorly lit by a few torches in sconces along the walls. There, more bodies of Yrch and Wargs lay strewn 'cross the floor amidst the wreckage of broken benches and o'erturned tables. At one end, doors stood open onto the bailey, whilst at the other was a dais of several steps with a high seat on the topmost level. Huddled to one side and looking despondent was a great Torogon¹. A club as long as the Noldo was tall rested at his right hand, studded with steel rivets the size of a large Man's fists. Manacles and a few links of broken chain adorned his wrists. An iron collar encircled his neck. He was slowly shaking his head and softly groaning as if with pain or remorse. ¹(Torogon, Stone Troll = Torog(troll) + gond(stone) The final –nd becomes –n in proper nouns. The doubled –g is elided. Sindarin)

Helluin approached the Troll warily, the Black Sword held ready, though she had little doubt that she could destroy him. Rather, she desired answers ere being forced to fight. She came within four fathoms ere he looked up, and when he marked her, he did a double take and then with a sigh of resignation, rose from the edge of the dais and prostrated himself upon the floor.

"Mash bruslat krampuz¹?" Helluin demanded of him whilst trying to conceal her shock at his behavior. ¹(Mash bruslat krampuz, What have you done? = mash(what?) + brus-(have) + lat(you) + kramp(v. do) + -uz(2nd pers sing past v. suff) Orkish)

"Krampuz fik¹," he admitted, casting his sad gaze down at the floor in contrition. ¹(Krampuz fik, I did wrong/bad = kramp(v. do) + -uz(1st pers sing past v. suff) + fik(wrong, bad) Orkish)

Indeed he seemed so pathetic that Helluin was left standing before him with an unsheathed sword, feeling even more confused than aforetime. He had made no move to assail her and seemed to expect some retribution to befall him for trespasses committed.

"Gothbûrz darug lat, Nazgul¹," he said, seeking confirmation of his all respects, he seemed wholly wretched. ¹(Gothbûrz darug lat, Nazgûl, Dark Lord sent you, Ringwraith = goth(lord) + bûrz(dark) + darug(sent) + lat(you) + Nazg(Ring) + gûl(ghost) Orkish)

And now Helluin understood. Like the Yrch in Sheol, he had taken her for one of Sauron's Nine. The worn black cloak and the Black Sword, along with her silent and sudden appearance had convinced him that she was a supernatural horror, the Dark Lord's executioner. If he marked the steel bow and quiver of arrows o'er her shoulder, he paid them no heed.

Instead of condemnation or confirmation, she said, "Skât lat. Gor krampat¹." ¹(Skât lat. Gor krampat, You come. Work to do = skât-(come) + lat(you) + gor(work) + kramp(v. do) + -at(inf v. suff) Orkish)

Helluin commanded that he labor whilst awaiting a company of replacements for the slain Yrch. She set him to removing and casting all the dead o'er the eastern wall and into the ravine, adding that if he finished not ere dawn, then he should preserve himself 'til the morrow's night to complete his task. Thankful to be given work he could realistically accomplish as well as a stay of execution, the Torog set to his penance with grim determination. During that time, Helluin interrogated him regarding the reasons behind the slaughter, and she found herself more sympathetic than not. 'Twas a peculiar irony, though they both hated the Yrch. Alas, she could not confess to agreeing that they had deserved to die and still maintain the charade of her assumed persona.

Later, as he moved to begin clearing the corpses of Yrch and Wargs from the bailey, the Noldo bid him unbar the gate that the incoming company might enter should he not yet be done upon their arrival, though she implied that they would be vexed to find the carcasses of their dead comrades still present in the fortress. That possibility served as added motivation for his haste. So preoccupied and dull witted was he that he questioned not the Nazgûl ordering the waste of meat that could have provisioned the new troops.

Now the dawn of 2 Nínui approached, and with the first lightening of the eastern horizon, and with the tower still replete with cadavers, Helluin bid the Torog hide in his accustomed cell in the dungeon. When he had fled the impending daylight, she slipped from the gate and made her way back to the Ranger encampment in haste.

Helluin's tale, recited whilst the company broke their fasts, filled the Rangers with amazement.

"Doubted thee not thy sanity when leaping from the cliff?" Sergeant Orodben asked.

"It seemed a wise ploy at the time," Helluin replied whilst chewing some waybread. "Glohsúl proved prompt in my retrieval."

"So, the fortress lies emptied," Draugrán said. "Shalt thou continue the Torog's labor through the morrow's night."

"Aye, I shall require his completion of the task ere dispatching him," she replied, "though I feel 'nigh sorrowful for that necessity."

"Oh? Whyfor? Trolls are fearsome and not to be pitied in my experience," Sergeant Húbion said.

"For the past decade he hath suffered the derision and cruelty of the Yrch," Helluin explained. "As a slave he spent those years, manacled, collard, and chained, and forced to move a pile of boulders, the broken bodies of two other Tor known to him upon a time, endlessly back and forth 'cross the bailey for the amusement of the Orcs, who also took glee in threatening to lock him outside at dawn. They tormented him further by igniting oil they had poured onto him from the battlements above, or onto the ground o'er which he had to tread. The burns caused him pain, but no permanent harm came to his hide.

At sundown this past night, his rage finally o'ercame him and in frenzy he turned his wrath upon the Yrch, breaking his bonds, taking up his weapon, and slaying them to the last. Their Wargs he treated no better. I was hard pressed not to applaud him."

"He hath saved us a great jeopardy and I shall surely applaud him," Dúnriel said. 'Round her, many of the Rangers nodded in agreement. "'Tis almost a shame that he need be slain after finally winning his freedom."

"He takes me for a Nazgûl and only therefore doth he do my bidding," Helluin said. "The Nazgûl are bound to Sauron's will, and I cannot show mercy. Having slain a full garrison of his master's Yrch, he expects none from a Ringwraith in any case, but I shall make his end quick."

Again, the gathered Rangers nodded in agreement. This enemy of their enemies was not their friend and none of them could pass for a Nazgûl.

"Did this night past bring any new lore of the farmlands and the 'Snaga'?" Helluin asked.

"Two dozen Warg riding o'erseers came from the closest stockade, that of which we could be most sure of what we saw," Sergeant Húbion said. "Each pair drove two dozen 'Snaga' from a single hut to the fields and cruelly bullied them there through the night. They took no breaks."

"Only did we confirm that they labor dusk to dawn 'neath their o'erseers," Sergeant Orodben reported. "We saw none leaving or coming to these lands."

She nodded, thinking, yet some must, for the harvested food goes out and new slaves come in…just not on this night past.

"By daylight we have an advantage, for the Yrch detest the sun, yet ere we slay the o'erseers, we must rid ourselves of the Wargs," Helluin said, "for they are vicious and confer the advantage of swift movement to our foes whilst we have not our horses."

"We can move to the stockades and try to shoot them in their pens, though I wager t'will cause some noise," Sergeant Húbion said.

"Aye," Sergeant Orodben agreed, "for we cannot be sure to kill all even with a full company of archers. Some may not be visible from outside the pens. We are sure to alert the Yrch when we act."

"Perhaps we could fire the pens? Burn them out and shoot those that flee?" A Ranger asked.

"Yet we would be revealed by the fire and smoke," said another, "and some are likely to escape."

Others nodded in agreement. Such a tactic would be highly visible by daylight and their own stealth would be impossible to maintain. Eventually, there could be a running battle, a most undesirable situation.

"Let us try an experiment then," said Helluin, recalling a similar problem she had solved in Khazad-dûm. "We shall need a source of meat."

"After thy Torog's labor, there is much lying in the ravine," Sergeant Orodben observed with distaste.

"At least we need not worry about being marked during the retrieval," the Noldo replied.

The ravine was well hidden from the farmland and the fortress o'erlooking it was empty.

Now o'er the course of that morn, Helluin and her company marched to the ravine and culled the arms and legs of two Yrch. The Noldo also took a water skin from the belt of one whose head had been crushed flat. 'Twas with great disgust that they returned to the rest of the Rangers 'round noon.

Helluin sent a Ranger to fill the water skin and then she enlisted a dozen volunteers from sergeants Orodben and Húbion's companies, and together, they carried off the meat to the nearest stockade. This lay roughly two miles from the mouth of the valley leading to the Nargil Pass, and so the company spent o'er an hour stealthily advancing 'til the Warg pen lay but a furlong ahead. From that distance, they could smell the rank stench of the creatures, for the breeze blew in their faces. By then, the meat was beginning to ripen as well, making the undertaking an odorous and onerous task that all those involved with hoped to leave behind as rapidly as possible.

"Ahhh, we are blessed to have the wind in our faces," Helluin muttered. The others rolled their eyes. "Pray it stays thus and we remain unmarked."

Now they crawled forward the last couple hundred yards, cleaving to an irrigation ditch for cover. By its end, they were 'naught but a score yards from the pen and all were breathing through their mouths. There they paused and Helluin took a flask from her travel bag, and from it poured a thimble-full of a dark, viscous fluid into the water skin. This she recapped and shook vigorously 'til 'twas thoroughly mixed. Then, Helluin and seven others dragged a limb each 'cross the last intervening ground whilst the remaining six Rangers prepared their bows.

As they drew 'nigh, they marked how poorly constructed the stockade actually was. The wall was little more than a fence of eight feet in height with posts sunk at eight-foot intervals and boards nailed to rails joining them. They saw neither watchtowers nor a platform behind for lookouts to stand on.

Upon reaching the Warg pen, Helluin and the Rangers crouched behind the stockade wall to which the pen's fence was attached, and the Noldo splashed each limb with the tainted water from the skin. When all were so anointed, she nodded to the Rangers and they slung the arms and legs into the Warg pen. Then they retreated as quickly as stealth would allow, for upon marking the scent of the flesh, the Wargs broke out in howls, snarls, and growls, and charged forth to fight o'er the arms and legs, tumbling and wrestling and snapping at each other in their feeding frenzy.

As Helluin and the Rangers returned to the irrigation canal, the Wargs were already wolfing down mouthfuls of Orc flesh, rifling hunks of meat into their gullets with each swallow, 'twixt snarls at each other. From deeper within the stockade came the cursing of Yrch at the noise, yet none of them came forth into the sunlight to investigate. Ere the Rangers could count past a hundred, the limbs had been stripped of flesh and the Wargs were cracking bones for their marrow.

Helluin lay beside the Rangers, counting to a hundred and then another hundred as she watched the Wargs like a hawk. Remembering the almost immediate effect of Ungolúróg's venom on the Wargs in Khazad-dûm, she began to believe that she had under-dosed the limbs and these Wargs would suffer 'naught. She reached the end of a fourth hundred ere the creatures began to whine.

Though the effect took longer and proceeded more slowly, in the end, the result was the same. The pen full of Wargs choked and gagged, convulsed in seizures as their nervous systems disintegrated, and finally lay dead, having regurgitated their melting entrails ere collapsing. They passed away, but continued to dissolve from the insides out, eventually leaving 'naught behind but coagulated puddles of blackened blood, speckled with clots of bone and clumps of hair. The process had taken the third part of an hour.

Helluin was o'erjoyed by the horror of it all, whilst the Rangers were queasy and disgusted, howe'er none could refute the success of the experiment. The downside was that it entailed much revolting labor and the meat in the ravine was becoming more nauseating by the hour. Still, success was success and none could quarrel with the outcome. The Wargs were slain, and indeed they had well 'nigh vanished, leaving the Yrch to discover only an enigma. Inarguably, they would be forced to walk thereafter.

"'Tis all well and good, First Guardian," Sergeant Húbion said when they reported their success at the Ranger encampment, "yet we shall needs find some fresher source of meat. The putrefaction of the Yrch in the ravine shall give our positions away should the wind shift whilst approaching the next Warg pen."

"I agree. Pray grant me some time to consider a solution," Helluin said. "The afternoon passes and I must set out for the fortress, so to be present at nightfall to supervise the Torog."

The situation was so ludicrous that the two Dúnedain Rangers chuckled in spite of trying to restrain their mirth. Helluin groaned as the Rangers of Lebennin fretted o'er the problem. The Noldo was almost glad to be reverting to playing Nazgûl for the night. That, at least, seemed a straightforward enough task. After drinking some water and consuming some rations, she set off, retracing her steps towards the fortress with her full stealth.

Helluin arrived at the fortress as twilight fell, and she slipped through the gate. Straightaway she went to the great hall and sat in the high seat upon the dais. There she spent the time awaiting the Torog deep in thought, trying to discern the least hazardous way to procure a source of fresh meat. The doors to the hall she had left open so that she could watch the darkness creeping 'cross the bailey as night fell.

Soon enough, she heard the tread of lumbering feet ascending a stair from the dungeon as the Torog came to complete its labor. He entered the hall, half-expecting to find the company of replacement Yrch clamoring for his head, but he saw only Helluin, enthroned upon the dais as was fitting to her station. He offered the clumsiest bow she could recall seeing in several Ages and she nodded in response.

"Vrapogub gorat¹," Helluin ordered. ¹(Vrapogub gorat, You will continue to work = vrapog-(continue) + -ub(2nd pers fut suff) + gor(work) + -at(inf v. suff) Orkish)

The Torog repeated his bow and then shuffled off to drag bodies up the tower stairs from the hall, one clamped 'neath each of his arms. He continued thus, tirelessly through most of the night, emptying the hall of carrion and working his way up the tower, room by room. The carcasses of the Yrch and Wargs he flung o'er the parapet of the eastern wall and into the ravine. He ne'er complained, nor voiced 'aught in exposition of his emotional state, (for which Helluin was immensely thankful), though to the Noldo's eyes, it seemed that he took a grim pleasure in this final disposal of his tormentors.

Finally, when but an hour and a half of the night remained, the Torog returned. Again, he came to stand before the high seat and offered a bow.

"Gor krampuzat¹," he declared, emotionlessly sealing his fate with the completion of his last task. ¹(Gor krampuzat, Work done = gor(work) + kramp(v. do) + -uzat(3rd pers past v suff) Orkish)

Helluin nodded to him, accepting his claim with no intention of checking his work. He had been given his orders, and as a servant of the Dark Lord, he would not fail to obey his master's emissary. The Noldo rose from the seat and descended the dais.

"Skât," she ordered as she passed him and walked to the doors of the hall.

The Torog obeyed and followed her out of the tower and 'cross the bailey. They came to the gates and Helluin led him outside, onto the road before the fortress. She fully intended to flash petrify him there with a blast of Light, but her attention was drawn to the sound of galloping hooves and a black horse bearing a cloaked rider charging up the road towards them.

It barely took the projection of her Elda senses to mark that a Nazgûl approached. Behind her, the Torog cringed in terror. With a groan, Helluin gestured him back inside the gate and out of sight, and he was only too happy to oblige. Then she strode down from the fortress to meet the Ringwraith.

Once he had come within the fortress, the Torog sat with his back pressed against the wall beside the gates, drew his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms o'er his head, trying to make himself appear smaller, and hoping to go unnoticed. 'Twas a ridiculous and moronic attempt to hide, but 'twas the best he could do.

On the road, Helluin stood craving the coming combat, and she drew Anguirél and the Sarchram as the Nazgûl came 'nigh. She looked on in incredulity as it well 'nigh ran her down, appearing to be completely blind to her presence. At the last moment, her wits returned and she spun aside, swatting the hindquarters of its horse with the Black Sword as it passed by. The horse bucked, reared, and tossed the wraith from the saddle.

In a strange and cartoonish illusion, the Ringwraith seemed to completely flatten as it impacted the road, lying there for a moment like an empty and discarded cloak ere it rose from the wreck and its form was restored. It turned in a circle, sniffing, and finally, it seemed to be aware of her. With one hand, it drew a rusty arming sword, whilst with the other, it produced a Morgul blade. Helluin marked the heavy Ring of gold upon the gauntleted left hand that brandished the parrying dagger.

"Timely hast thou come to meet thy fate, the second in a year," Helluin said.

"Unseemly prey thou proffer this night," the Sarchram said, and then it threatened the wraith, saying, "to the Void to greet thy master's master I shall gladly send thee, accursed shade."

The wraith replied 'naught, but advanced warily, sword and dagger held en garde, and if it had heard or marked the threats, it made no response. Helluin could not tell if this was one of the original Nine that she had fought in Orodruin at the end of the Second Age, or if 'twas a replacement for the one she had slain. She was only fairly certain that 'twas not Tindomul, yet save if it claimed a name, there was no way for her to be sure. Instead, she circled the wraith and it circled her, both testing the patience of the other. Yet here she was the invader, an interloper in its master's realm, and an unwelcome threat to its master's plans. The Nazgûl's duty was clear.

For two thousand years, the Ringwraith had met living foes and all had been subject to the terror its master's sorcery conferred. It deemed that same fear would take the heart of this one when their blades met, yet she was difficult to see clearly past the glare of her fëa.

Since first meeting the Nine during the War of the Last Alliance, Helluin had contested with wraiths singly and together and she had learnt how to use their nature against them in combat. She had ne'er feared them and held even the greatest of their kind in contempt. The Nazgûl surged forward and their swords met in a shrieking clash of steel.

After a flurry of blows they disengaged, and the wraith marked that its attacks had been matched in speed and repelled with unaccustomed vigor. When they had faced each other with their blades locked up to contest in strength, this foe had not yielded. Her hands had been steady with no trace of trembling. Then she had stepped laterally as she turned her wrist, executing a small circle with her sword's blade to disengage their weapons, and the Nazgûl had barely ducked 'neath her lunge with the Sarchram. Her withdrawal had been just as swift as her attack, Anguirél turning aside the Morgul dagger whilst the Ring Blade deflected the wraith's sword down and away as they parted.

Through several more brief engagements, they took each other's measure. By then, they had each created a working impression of the other's capabilities. The Nazgûl attacked again, but this time Helluin blinded the wraith's ethereal sight with a blast of Light, and ere it could recover, she hewed what should have been its neck with the Sarchram.

For the third time in her experience, an unearthly and blood curdling wail went up to the sky whilst the black cloak of the Ringwraith fluttered to the ground in a heap. Twice accursed, the wraith's spirit was ejected from Arda into the Void. With a clatter, its sword and dagger fell. Then their steel flaked and pitted, aging centuries in moments as the spell was broken, and finally they turned into piles of powdered rust that blew away on the scant breeze.

Helluin sheathed Anguirél, set the Sarchram on her clip, and then kicked the Nazgûl's robes off the road and out of sight. She did not find its Ring, and whether 'twas destroyed or returned to Sauron's hand, she knew not. The Noldo marked the Ringwraith's horse lingering a dozen yards down the road and she had the presence of mind to draw her bow and shoot it in the eye. Fresh meat for a day, she thought.

Helluin looked back to the gates of the fortress and saw the Torog peeking out from one side. A glance to the sky revealed just o'er an hour remaining ere dawn. She beckoned the Troll hence and he edged out from behind the gate, then ambled down the road to where she stood.

"Vrasuz Nazgûl¹," he managed to say. ¹(Vrasuz Nazgûl, You killed Ringwraith = vras(kill) + -uz(2nd pers sing past v. suff) + Nazg(Ring) + gûl(ghost) Orkish)

"Narkû narmokuz za ash¹," Helluin told him. ¹(Narkû narmokuz za ash, I never liked that one = narkû(never) + narmok-(like) + -uz(1st pers sing past v. suff) + za(that) + ash(one) Orkish)

"Uh-uh-uhhh!" He uttered whilst slapping his thighs with his palms. After a moment, the Noldo realized that was him laughing.

Helluin pointed to the Ringwraith's dead horse and told the Torog in Orkish, "There is meat if you can eat it. If not, then throw it into the ravine with the Yrch."

The Stone Troll nodded, grinned an unnerving grin, walked down the road to where the horse lay, bit off a mouthful of flesh from its shank, chewed, and swallowed. Then he looked back to Helluin, smiled and nodded 'aye' ere hefting the horse o'er his shoulders and returning to the fortress. At the gate, Helluin stopped him and plucked her arrow from the horse's brain.

"I thank thee for drawing my foe hither," she told him in Orkish, "and for that, I offer thee either this fortress to dwell in, or my leave to find a home for thyself in the mountains. Though I would recommend the latter, the choice is thine. I shall not pursue thee."

The Torog smiled and bobbed his head enthusiastically. Helluin turned away to walk down the road and eventually return to the Ranger camp. The last she saw of the Stone Troll, he was heading into the foothills with the horse carcass o'er his shoulders and his club in hand. She wished him well.

Helluin followed the dawn of 3 Nínui into the Ranger camp. They had all heard the Nazgûl's blood-curdling shriek and they gathered 'round, clamoring to hear her tale. She shared her account of the night's events whilst breaking her fast with bites of waybread and thinly sliced sausage and cheese. The destruction of the Nazgûl was greeted with the soft stamping of boots and muttered congratulations. When Helluin related her freeing of the Troll though, they looked o'er their shoulders with concern.

"I deem by now he is miles away and hiding from the sun," she told them to ease their worries. "More importantly, he was grateful to preserve his life and took his freedom. I reckon he shall not return, for Sauron must know of his slaughter of the garrison. Why else would a Nazgûl have been dispatched hither? And though the Dark Lord is blind to me, he must know his wraith has been slain by now and I wager he shall guess the rest, especially so soon after losing his steward in Minas Morgul."

"T'would seem thy night was too fully occupied to have found a new source of meat," Dúnriel said with a grin.

"Aye, and I reckon 'tis no longer safe to tarry in Nurn. I have no doubts that an army of Yrch shall soon come to reoccupy the fortress and search these lands for foes, and perhaps another Nazgûl shall accompany them as well. We should press our luck no further," the Noldo advised.

"Still, t'would seem a shame to leave these lands empty-handed," Draugrán mused.

To this, Helluin sighed and fell silent. With all that had come to pass, prudence suggested that they begin their march from Nurn at once and leave the 'Snaga' behind. Yet she had only slain the Nazgûl a little more than an hour ago. How quickly could another appear? The same held true for an army of Yrch. Perhaps they still had a short window of opportunity.

"Marked ye any sign of upset amongst the o'erseers from the loss of their Wargs?" She asked.

'Round her heads shook 'nay' and none of the Rangers made any report of disturbances amongst the slave drivers after the slaughter of their mounts. Perhaps they did not even realize that the creatures had been slain. There were no recognizable carcasses left behind. They had no foes in these lands, what with a fortress and a garrison full of soldiers to protect their farms.

What would an Orch think after finding its Warg missing, she asked herself as she washed down her rations with a swig of water. What would a stockade full of Yrch think after all their Wargs went missing?

Better than the Rangers, Helluin knew the nature of Orcs and she knew the nature of their master. Every Orch is instinctively suspicious and self-serving. An Orch who has suffered a loss will invariably blame any with whom he holds a grudge, and that would include all not in his sight at the time of his loss. A stockade full of Yrch will blame all who have not suffered a like loss at the same time. Now Sauron…he is not above setting servant against servant; indeed he would revel in such disunion. I should be little surprised if each stockade is in competition with the others to win their master's favor by producing a greater yield than the others can. Stealing Wargs would be a way to set competitors behind and ensure an advantage. And who shall the losers blame? Opportunity and proximity first; they shall blame those closest…those in the nearest stockade. So why were no fights seen this night past? Because they spent the past night driving their slaves and plotting their revenge. They shall strike this coming night. A short window of opportunity we have indeed.

"Sergeant Orodben, Sergeant Húbion, think ye that our companies can invade and o'erpower a stockade full of Yrch if they have no Wargs? Can ye be sure to slaughter them all quickly and without raising an alarm?"

To Helluin's questions, the Rangers began nodding 'aye' and they smiled at the possibility of completing their mission. Their sergeants were more calculating though, for they were charged with preserving the lives of their soldiers.

"We outnumber the count in any single stockade, so 'aye', 'tis possible," Sergeant Húbion began, "but not without risk."

"Our companies would needs break into a stockade and engage the Yrch there at close quarters," Sergeant Orodben said. "T'would not just be shooting from a safe distance, but rather slaying them face to face with swords. Even striking in daylight with the advantage of surprise, I would expect to take casualties."

"I ask this because whilst ye are in combat, I must go to the 'Snaga'," Helluin said. "Amongst us only I speak their tongue, for they speak only Orkish. If we go forward, t'will fall to me to convince them to flee, else all is for 'naught."

The Noldo's words gave them pause, for they would assail the compound of Yrch without the aid of their First Guardian. Though the decision was ultimately theirs, the sergeants let the Rangers voice their opinions, for t'would be their lives on the line. This mission was not what they had trained for, nor what they were sworn to, for they were not defending the people and lands of Gondor. During their debate, Dúnriel and Draugrán held their peace, for the Men of Lebennin made up the vast majority of the ranks. Helluin too said 'naught though she could order them hence, for their hearts and minds needed to be committed by their own volition.

For 'nigh an hour of the sun the discussion continued and well 'nigh all points of view were expressed. Possibilities and strategies were considered and outcomes imagined. They were deep in enemy territory, risking their lives to save Orcs who might not even desire their aid, and some of their own would almost certainly be injured or even slain. There would be no reinforcements and any withdrawal would be long, going o'er the Nargil Pass into the hostile lands of Harondor, very possibly pursued by larger numbers of foes whilst bearing away their own wounded and guarding an unknown count of questionable refugees. If they left immediately, they might not bring forth any slaves, nor hamper the production of foods for Mordor's armies, but they could already report a fortress emptied and a Nazgûl slain. They could also offer valuable information on what they had seen in Nurn. And they would win a measure of renown, for amongst all the Men of Gondor, they alone had dared invade Mordor, a thing not done in o'er two thousand years.

Yet in all that had been done, Helluin had been foremost, encompassing the fall of the Nazgûl in single combat, and confirming the neutralization of the fortress by facing the Troll. Although they begrudged not whatsoe'er glory their First Guardian might reap, they faced an unprecedented opportunity for the completion of their king's mission that was unlikely to be revisited. Not without first assailing and slaughtering the replacement garrison and taking the fortress would a future sortie win the possibility of rescuing slaves from Nurn and escaping with them unopposed. Perhaps ne'er again would so few be able to prevail in achieving their king's goal, to strike a blow against their nemesis, the Dark Lord Sauron. Surely the chance of such an outcome was worthy of facing some jeopardy?

Bit by bit, the character of the discussion shifted. By then, they all knew the risks and understood the possible rewards. Yet the most basic consideration was this, that for o'er two thousand years, the Men of Lebennin had been loyal subjects of Gondor, and they were Rangers, sworn since the reign of the first kings to do their king's will. When the sergeants asked for a show of hands, e'ery hand was raised in favor, and the Dúnedain Rangers last, in support of their brothers in the south as had e'er been their purpose.

"First Guardian, our decision is made," Sergeant Húbion told Helluin after the unanimous vote had been taken, and the Noldo nodded in acceptance of their choice.

"Ye shall outnumber your foes by half and they shall be at a disadvantage during the daylight. If ye can use surprise effectively, then I have no doubt ye shall prevail," Helluin said. "I would counsel ye to attack in the late afternoon so that ye can accomplish the slaughter and withdraw to this valley ere the other o'erseers become active at twilight and mark ye."

The Rangers nodded, accepting her advice. They had little doubt that they could break into the stockade quickly and in o'erwhelming force, for what those had seen when they accompanied Helluin to kill the Wargs had been told to the rest and all knew the weakness of the defenses.

"I shall take my leave at noon," Helluin told them. "There are a dozen slave sheds spread 'round the fields. I must come to each in stealth and convince those 'Snaga' willing to leave to be ready to flee come sunset. I shall linger 'nigh and shepherd them hither."

"Ye shall be marked at nightfall," Draugrán said. "The other o'erseers shall heed thy flight."

"Shall they not intercede and run ye down?" Dúnriel asked.

"'Tis a gamble, I know," Helluin said, "yet we shall be fleeing towards the fortress and the pass. Unlike ye, the 'Snaga' are not invading foes. I reckon the other o'erseers shall leave to the soldiers in the fortress the recapture of the fleeing slaves, for 'tis the soldiers' part to guard the pass."

"'Tis a gamble sure," Sergeant Orodben said, "but the other o'erseers know not that the fortress is emptied and the soldiers slain. Perhaps ye shall win free to the pass."

"Yrch are not known to be o'erly concerned with the welfare of their comrades," Helluin said. "I deem that each stockade is in competition with the others for Sauron's favor and shall risk 'naught on their rivals' behalf."

"Yet surely they heard the cry of the Nazgûl dying," Dúnriel said. "We clearly heard it here."

"They heard the cry of a Nazgûl, aye, and know now that one is 'nigh," Helluin replied, "yet who amongst them knows that a Nazgûl met its doom or would suspect such could come to pass? I wager that from a distance, the Nazgûl they think they see shall be me, leading slaves to some dark fate in the fortress. They shall want no part of that."

The Rangers nodded, accepting the Noldo's reasoning, though they knew the Yrch not so well as to willingly gamble their lives on their nature. One other concern the sergeants held for Helluin's safety.

"Art thou confident that the "Snaga' shall not turn upon thee whilst in their hovels? A dozen times shalt thou confront two dozens whilst alone, and surely not all shall be willing to flee," Sergeant Húbion said. 'Round them, the other Rangers looked on, worry etched on their faces.

"I do not believe they shall assail me," Helluin said. "Ye saw the pitiful condition of those we met aforetime. They were no warriors. Whether they resolve to stay or flee, I have no fear of them. In truth, I am more worried about the possibility that all of them shall decide to flee. How shall we convey twenty-four dozen slaves o'er the Nargil Pass? How shall we feed them after?"

At this possibility, both sergeants groaned. How indeed would they feed even a couple dozen escaped slaves if e'er they reached Harondor?

"I suppose I could lead them to the stockade where they can dismember their late o'erseers and bring those rations with them on their march, but t'would be time consuming," Helluin mused, to the Rangers' horror, "or else starve them 'til we can bring them some of the Haradrim horses from the cirque."

There was some muttered commentary on the revolting nature of either option. She shrugged at their dismay, for no better possibilities came to her mind.

"We shall leave the o'erseers dismembered in the yard behind the gate," Sergeant Orodben said with a grim expression, calculating that they might need an extra half hour. The Rangers began to dissent, loathing the sergeant's proposal, but he silenced them, asking, "Would ye instead favor making a two day march through the mountains whilst outnumbered eight to one by hungry Yrch?"

His words indeed stifled their complaints, for that jeopardy they could all imagine and none wished to entertain it.

"A shame we have no axes," one muttered.

"The o'erseers may have some for chopping firewood," another conjectured hopefully.

Helluin listened and recalled not having an axe when she had mutilated hundreds of Yrch long ago in Eriador whilst creating her dark tableaus during the War of the Elves and Sauron.

"I am sure ye shall find a way," she said.

Somehow, the Rangers of Lebennin did not find her words comforting.

Now with their course decided, Helluin and the Rangers set about making such preparations as they could. The Rangers shed whatsoe'er they would not need for their assault on the stockade, yet they had still many hours ere they would march. They took to inspecting their weapons, especially their bowstrings, arrows, and the sharpness of their blades. Helluin eyed the sun, reckoned 'twas still three hours ere noon, and chose a spot in the shade to rest her mind. She spread her ground cloth of wonton skins in the lee of a boulder and lay down, rapidly sinking into her memories of using a funnel to pour an experimental plague cure down the throat of a sorely afflicted cat. Soon, a grin shaped her lips.

When noon came, Helluin blinked herself back to the living world. She had been enmeshed in a very old memory of a much happier time in Aman, the first time she had dared stand 'neath the Two Trees at the Mingling of the Lights. The Noldo had been enraptured, blazing with the Blessed Light as the dews coated her body when the Lady Yavanna had passed Corollairë. Seeing her, Helluin had bowed her head in respect. Ere continuing on her way, the Valië had offered her a small smile and a nod of greeting, or perhaps permission, or so Helluin had perceived it. Having been neither stayed, nor admonished on that first visit, the Noldo had repeatedly indulged herself in showering 'neath the radiant nectars of Telperion and Laurelin for o'er a thousand years.

Rising from her 'nap', she rolled up her ground cloth, returned it to her travel bag, took a swig of water, and shouldered her bow and quiver. On her way from the camp, she gave the two sergeants nods of acknowledgement and then strode off down the valley towards the farmlands.

Helluin followed the irrigation channels from the bed of the stream that ran out of the valley wherein the Nargil Pass opened, and with her full stealth, passed through orchards and fields, unseen as the breeze. Despite that 'twas but the opening days of the second month of the year, the mild southern clime had allowed for the sewing of early crop seeds, peas, onions, radishes, turnips, and cabbage. The fields were green with new growth. Young leaves sprouted on the fruit trees and their trunks cast shadows 'neath the pale sun. In her black cloak, Helluin was as a shadow amongst shadows and none marked her approach.

Now after crossing three furlongs of farmland in the half part of an hour, Helluin came to the closest of the slave hovels. 'Twas but a collection of sticks really, a haphazard lean-to of small branches and bunches of field cuttings from the past harvest laid o'er larger branches that had been driven at an angle into the ground. Its opening faced north, away from the southern mountains, perhaps to block the predominating winds, but more likely, to escape the passage of the sun. As she drew 'nigh, the Noldo heard soft moans and the groans of pain from o'erwork and the wounds of lash and bludgeon, but 'neath the physical torment, she perceived the emotional despair and anguish of lives barely lived.

Helluin rounded the end of the shelter and within she saw bodies curled 'neath ragged cloaks, desperately seeking for rest whilst hiding from the sunlight. Not a one marked her nor reacted to her presence. She shook her head at the pathos of it all and came to kneel in the center of the open side of the lean-to, looking in at the 'Snaga'.

"Hûz! Nagraufomsur. Bolda mâdûru. Ghugub snagaz narmub¹," Helluin declared.¹(Hûz! Nagraufomsur. Bolda mâdûru. Ghugub snagaz narmub, Attention! Rise up. Follow me to freedom. You will be slaves no more. = hûz(attention!) + naugraufom-(rise) + -sur(up) + bol- (follow) + da(me) + mâdûr(freedom) + -u(prep. to) + ghug-(be) + -ub(2nd pers pl fut suff) + snaga(slave) + -z(pl suff) + nar-(no) + mub(more) Orkish)

At first, none moved, but then, one peeked out from 'neath his cloak. His eyes flew wide open when he saw her and he screamed in terror. 'Twas obvious he thought that the Nazgûl they had heard shriek just ere dawn had come amongst them. As one, the remaining 'Snaga' bolted up and sat staring at her, gibbering in abject horror. Helluin groaned, realizing that she should have foreseen their reaction. She hastily doffed her cloak, hoping that none would bolt.

"Nar Nazgûl¹" she desperately said, and then held her finger to her lips, saying, "shhhhh", and hoping they would calm, whilst thinking to herself, Sheesh, what a bunch of cry babies. She tried not to roll her eyes at their panic. ¹(Nar Nazgûl, Not Nazgûl Orkish)

In truth, Helluin's appearance without her black cloak was scarcely less terrifying to them, considering her black armor and weapons. They stared at her, seeming to accept her denial of being a Ringwraith, though that was probably just wishful thinking on their part and they all expected to die anyway. At least, she had their attention.

Thereafter, it fell to Helluin to create a diplomacy wherein she could convince the 'Snaga' that those who followed her would be led to freedom o'er the Nargil Pass, and in time, would find sanctuary in the east, in Samara. At the mention of that name, they perked up and many nodded in hope. This she clearly marked. It seemed that the schemes of Gorvon and the Blue Wizards were known to many in Nurn.

"We already dead," one amongst them finally told her in Orkish whilst the others nodded in agreement. "We follow, we have 'naught to lose but shackles."

"Wait on darkness, then hasten to o'erseers' stockade. My allies kill them in last daylight," she replied. "I go to others. We all meet there."

"Soldiers…fortress," another said, his worry and fear palpable.

In answer, Helluin drew a finger 'cross her throat in the universal sign for murder.

The slaves chuckled at that, and she added, "tonight, fortress stay dark."

Helluin was completely astonished when one of the slaves offered to accompany her to the other hovels to ease her introduction, so long as he could drape himself from the sunlight in her cloak. To this, she readily agreed since she had seen how wearing it herself had affected them and none would mistake him for a Nazgûl, black cloak or no.

Shepherding the 'Snaga' to the other slave hovels was trying on the Noldo's nerves, for he was not acquainted with stealth. In the end, Helluin reckoned that he would draw less attention than she would, and so whilst he shuffled along in a pathetic attempt at sneaking from cover to cover, Helluin disappeared from sight and followed him.

In this way, by the grace of the Valar, they succeeded in making their way to each of the dozen slave lean-tos, and with his aid, Helluin managed to convince all of the slaves to flee Nurn. By the time they left the third hovel, her expectations had shifted from leading a few out of Mordor to liberating all.

Towards the end of the fourth hour after noon, they returned to the first hovel and the Orch returned Helluin's cloak. With the slave's aid, her errand had taken less time than projected. Because she deemed that the Rangers would be attacking the o'erseers' compound ere she could return to the valley, the Noldo resolved to join them in the assault, as she had not expected to be free to do. After offering the 'Snaga' her thanks, she slipped away 'cross the fields and made her way towards the stockade.

She arrived in time to see the Rangers just crawling from the irrigation channels and slipping forward to take cover along the western side of the stockade's wall where they would be out of sight from any of the other compounds. She announced her arrival to them with the whistled mimic of a birdcall and saw their surprise and jubilation when they realized that she would be aiding them after all. The sergeants looked to her in question, silently asking if she had some new plan. She gave them a nod 'aye' and then with a series of hand signals, directed half the company to prepare to enter the compound with drawn swords by way of the empty Warg pen. The other half of the Rangers she ordered to follow her o'er the stockade by first standing atop the fence of the Warg pen and then hoisting themselves o'er the wall and into the shadow of the fencing in the yard. There, they were to prepare their bows for shooting.

Helluin went o'er the wall first and landed softly in the shadow beside the fence. She drew her hood low o'er her face and kept her hands hidden in her sleeves. Then, as the Rangers quickly followed her and set arrows to their bowstrings, she strode out into the yard and marched straight to the entrance of the o'erseers' barracks. Two fathoms from the door, she took a running start, leapt into the air, and kicked the door well 'nigh off its hinges.

The door slammed open, shocking the Yrch inside to paralysis, and ere they could recover, an unnatural fear gripped them, driving the sleep from them faster than a plunge into ice water, for there on the threshold stood the Nazgûl they had all heard shrieking in rage at the fortress just ere dawn. It strode two fathoms into the barrack and then stopped. The hood of its cloak swiveled to regard them one after another, and the two dozen shrank 'neath its gaze. Not a one dared to move. Not a one made a sound and only their halting breath broke the stillness, though each also heard the pounding of his heart.

"Luktal!¹" Helluin commanded in the harshest voice she could conjure, and the Yrch practically tripped o'er themselves forming a line. Too scared to chance drawing a glance from that empty hood, they stared at the ground. ¹(Luktal, Inspection (lit. 'look-over') = luk-(v. look) + -tal(over) Orkish)

The Yrch dared not look up or make a sound as the Nazgûl slowly paced down their line, sniffing. They could see the hem of its cloak move as its boots met the floor, yet its ghostly steps made no sound.

"Goth narnârnazaburz,¹" the Ringwraith softly muttered as if to itself, yet they all heard its words in the silence of the barrack and they cringed. ¹(Goth narnârnazaburz, Master displeased (lit. 'not happy') = goth(master) + nar-(not) + nârnazaburz(happy) Orkish)

They were so terrified that they paid no heed to the soft sounds of the Rangers entering behind them from the Warg pen, assuming they were soldiers from the fortress. The Rangers in the yard had lined up to either side of the door, their bows ready to shoot as soon as they charged 'cross the threshold. Helluin had reached the far end of the line, furthest from the door.

Slowly, prolonging the threatening scrape of steel on leather, she drew Anguirél from her scabbard, then raised the Black Sword so its tip pointed north where lay Orodruin and the Plateau of Gorgoroth.

"Nântu poshat áshūrz bûbhosh og,¹" the Nazgûl grated out, and the Yrch knelt, bowing their heads in abject fear, for their master watched them from afar. ¹(Nântu poshat áshūrz bûbhosh og, You kneel (lit. you get down) before great eye = nânt-(get) + -u(2nd pers pres pl suff) + poshat(down) + áshūrz(before) + bûbhosh(great) + og(eye) Orkish)

Anguirél whistled as Helluin whipped her arm in a backhand slice and the heads of the two Yrch on the end of the line dropped from their hewn necks, but the Noldo did not still. She followed through on her motion, taking two small steps in a deadly pirouette that brought the Black Sword 'round in a full arc to cleave the necks of the next two kneeling o'erseers in the row. The dull thuds of their heads dropping to the floor was accompanied by the thrusting swords of the Rangers who stood behind the line and the groans of the impaled Yrch. The first Rangers charged through the door from the yard, only to find that the slaughter was already full wrought. They held their fire to avoid endangering their comrades standing behind the row as bodies began to topple to the floor. From first to last, the clearing of the compound had taken but a few moments and 'twas merciful in its swiftness.

Helluin pulled her hood back and then cleaned Anguirél's blade ere sheathing her. Then with the Rangers, she began dragging the corpses out of the barracks and into the yard. Afterwards, they began the grisly labor of stripping and dismembering the bodies. One by one, they dragged the Yrch to a chopping block where the Rangers took turns wielding the heavy, double bladed axe that had waited beside a stack of firewood. Arms were cut free of shoulders and divided at the elbows. Legs were cleaved from hips and partitioned at the knees. The shadows lengthened, but ere Anor dropped behind the Ephel Dúath, a pile of limbs lay sorted by kind. The torsos they left heaped with the cordwood.

"I deem your labors done," Helluin told the Rangers as they strove to clean the blood from their hands. "Pray return to the valley ere the light fails. I shall await the 'Snaga'."

"The labor was grimmer than the fighting," Sergeant Húbion said. "Pray tell, how many slaves should we expect, First Guardian."

"'Tis as we feared," she said. "Having 'naught to lose, they have all resolved to flee."

Upon hearing this, some of the Rangers gaped in surprise.

"Shalt thou be alright leading so many hence?" Sergeant Orodben asked, looking her o'er with worried eyes.

"All shall be well," Helluin assured him. "I have already met them and shall complete my impersonation of a Nazgûl by driving the doomed to the fortress, or so it shall appear."

"Very well then," he said with a grin for the absurdity of her charade. "We take our leave."

The Rangers filed out of the compound through the Warg pen and then slipped away to the irrigation channels, beginning their return to the valley and the Nargil Pass. When they were safely gone, Helluin came to the gate of the compound and removed the rail that barred its doors. These she pulled ajar so the 'Snaga' would know that the entrance was open. Then she took up a station in the gap 'twixt the doors and watched the shadows lengthen as she awaited nightfall.

Soon, Anor descended behind the Ephel Dúath and night raced 'cross the farmlands of Nurn. The fields fell into darkness, yet on this night, no horn from the fortress brayed the call to work. The windows of the tower remained dark. 'Cross the fields, o'erseers mounted their Wargs and drove slaves from their hovels. At the furthest west of the cultivated lands, the 'Snaga' rose and then began a fast shuffle towards their o'erseers' compound. The first Warg riders at the nearest compound paid them little heed, though a few indulged in malicious grins, anticipating acts of cruelty that they would hear rumors of on the morrow.

It took but the sixth part of an hour ere the 'Snaga' had converged on the stockade. There they saw Helluin standing at the gate and beckoning them hence with urgency. Eagerness gave speed to their strides and they entered the gates and gathered in the yard. Before them lay a pile of meat, arms and legs in greater abundance than they had e'er seen aforetime. 'Twas as a banquet of kings and they salivated and licked their chops, looking from Helluin to the pile and back again in hopeful anticipation.

"Make haste. Help yourselves to provisions for the march," she told them in Orkish to their great delight. "Some may needs share."

Of course, that possibility was ludicrous, she realized 'nigh as soon as the words were out of her mouth, for these were starved Yrch.

The hewn arms and legs numbered one hundred ninety-two and the slaves numbered two hundred eighty-eight, but the 'Snaga' solved the shortfall by hefting the torsos in teams of four. In truth, that left the Noldo astonished. Amongst any other Yrch, she would have expected a vicious melee to ensue o'er the best portions 'til the survivors could claim a limb apiece. Cooperation and teamwork were the last things she had expected, yet the slaves continued to surprise her, and not for the last time that night. Helluin nodded in approval whilst they gibbered their thanks.

"And now we take our leave," she told them when they had all claimed their rations. Then she pulled her hood low o'er her head and said, "Come, freedom awaits!"

With a restrained cheer, the 'Snaga' set out from the gate in hasty, loping strides, following Helluin 'cross the fields and heading to the west, obliquely towards the fortress that glowered down o'er the farmland from its mountain spur. To any who bothered to pay them heed, it looked like a Nazgûl leading slaves to their doom. Soon enough, they were lost in the distance and the dark.

Now Helluin was impressed with the slaves' stamina. They continued to run without slacking their pace or pausing to recover their breath, nor did any complain. As the ground passed 'neath their feet, she discerned that they were running for their lives as they had e'er done, and since they all thought themselves already dead, running themselves to death now was far from the worst fate they could imagine. When they passed where the road leading up to the fortress branched off, they actually picked up their pace, seeming to have taken heart as that possibility for betrayal fell behind.

They spent slightly more than the half part of an hour at a run, but they made the mouth of the valley without incident. As they passed within, Helluin whistled a birdcall to announce their safe arrival. A return whistle from Ranger lookouts told her that they were not pursued. They continued to run 'til they came to the stream whereat the Rangers had made their camp. The Men of Lebennin were packed and ready to march.

"Stay and take time to drink ere we make for the pass," she told the 'Snaga' as she came to a halt.

Understanding their visceral suspicions, Helluin pulled back her hood and knelt to drink from the stream, showing them by example that 'twas safe and not somehow poisoned. Sergeant Orodben came to her and drank as well to reinforce the point, though he was uneasy when confronted by so many Yrch, each carrying a body part.

The sergeants conferred with the Noldo as the slaves drank their fill.

"If any had told me aforetime that I would stand in such company, I should have called them mad," Orodben said, looking 'round in amazement.

"Aye. Topsy-turvy has our world become and I scarce recognize my life," Húbion added.

Helluin chuckled and agreed, saying, "Mark ye the groups of four hauling hence the torsos? That was a great wonder to me, that they would aid each other rather than fight o'er the limbs."

She looked o'er to see some 'snacking' as they drank; biting off tidbits of meat from the rations they carried. The forward lookouts joined them and stared at the slave company for a while, though some sounds of retching came to their ears as well. They shall become accustomed enough to all this in time, she decided.

"Are your Men ready to march," Helluin asked.

Both sergeants nodded 'aye'.

"And the sooner away the better," Sergeant Húbion said. "These lands give me the creeps."

"Compared to what else I have seen of Mordor, Nurn seems rather pleasant," Helluin mused.

The sergeants and the Rangers standing 'nigh shook their heads and rolled their eyes at that.

After a glance to confirm that the slaves seemed sated, Sergeant Orodben gave the Noldo a questioning look and she replied with a nod 'aye'.

"Companies, move out!" He ordered, and his and Sergeant Húbion's dozens led the way onto the ascending track that rose to enter the Nargil Pass.

"Stay to guard the rear," Helluin told her dozen Rangers, receiving nods of acknowledgement of her orders.

After the slaves had followed the leading Rangers into the opening of the pass, Helluin gestured her company hence and they followed behind her, still deep in hostile territory and separated from their comrades by 'nigh three hundred Yrch.

To Be Continued