In An Age Before – Part 249
Chapter One Hundred fifty-three
The Search for the Ring – The Third Age of the Sun
It came to pass that on 1 Cerveth, the day following Loëndë, or Mid-year, the embassy to the Ithryn Luin returned safely to Minas Tirith, and they were received with thanksgiving in the Seventh Circle. There the steward made his report to the king and the prince. Great was their celebration of the treaty of alliance, though their joy was tempered when they learnt that E-ngúrglaw could not be loaned to Gondor. Yet for the reasons given by Steward Vorondil, no blame could be laid, for what Man, and especially what Man of the West, would dare to defy the Will of the Valar? After all, that had been tried aforetime by Ar-Pharazôn and had ended poorly. So the struggle against the Dark Lord and his Úlairi would continue to be fought with the strength of Men and those of their allies that could be arrayed against him.
During the latter days of their return journey, Vorondil had given much thought to the finishing of the horn he carried back from Rhûn and how it should become an heirloom of the House of Húrin. Therefore, on the 2nd, he brought it to artisans who crafted horns for warriors and hunters and gave it into their keeping. Instructions he provided as to its decoration, specified in many words and a couple of barely competent sketches, for the Lord Steward was no artist. Still, Vorondil managed to convey his design, and after ten days, the work was completed.
The steward was happier than he had expected to be with the result, for in his fancy he deemed that the horn of the Kine of Araw looked like it could have come from the kit of a great warrior of the First Age, even Túrin himself, perhaps. The Great Horn of Gondor winded a heroic note with imposing volume, and none would mistake its tone that had heard it even once aforetime.
In consideration of the long and successful journey they had undertaken, the Rangers were granted a fortnight's furlough. This the company gladly received, and they scattered throughout the city and the surrounding countryside. Indeed, some ventured so far as Linhir and others to Pelargir to visit family or friends.
Having no home in the South, but having reunited with Húveren, the captains Draugrán and Dúnriel chose to spend their time at a cottage in Anórien, a furlong off the Great West Road and midway 'twixt the north gate of the Pelennor and Amon Dîn. This country house was owned by the crown, having taken possession of it after its original owners, (scions of the minor nobility distantly related to the royal house), had sickened and died during the Great Plague.
For their service during his embassy, the steward had made it available to them, both in token of his thanks for guarding his safety, and in pity for their kith and kin being hundreds of miles away in the North. There the cousins spent lazy, happy summer days allowing Húveren to run free and explore whither his nose would lead him as they trailed behind, feeling no hurry for 'aught. 'Twas an idyllic interlude, and all too soon to end.
During that time, Helluin had taken to riding Álfrhestr daily. With the better fodder in the city, she hoped to build his strength and stamina after their wearying sojourn in the East. On the Pelennor, she put him through many drills. Some of these attracted the attention of Gondor's cavalry, for few had seen a rider standing upright on the back of a horse and shooting at targets arrayed to either side at differing distances and heights. Invariably, she struck them all whilst cueing the stallion through the turns and gaits on their zigzag training path. Elvish trick riding, they muttered, yet none of them attempted to match her horsemanship.
So 'twas that on the 14th, as she allowed Álfrhestr to cool down whilst trotting in lazy circles, that she espied a Man trudging down the road from the north gate in the Pelennor Rammas to the city. He was wayworn and his garb was stained by long days of travel for he was afoot, and yet his cloak was of mixed greens and he bore a bow, quiver, sword, and dagger. Tall he was, pale skinned, and dark of hair. Riding closer, she noted his grey eyes and the intense glint that lit them. She marked a silver broach in the shape of a rayed star pinning closed his cloak at the left shoulder. Unable to let him pass ungreeted, she rode 'nigh and dismounted before him.
"Hail and well met, Ranger of the North," she said. "What news from the Chieftain?"
"Helluin Úlairdacil," he exclaimed in surprise, seemingly recognizing her at once. "Hail and well met. I had not hoped to find thee so easily in Gondor, yet now perhaps my errand has been blessed. I bear tidings for Lord Annuihír and Lady Lainiel. They are summoned home."
For a moment, the Noldo's eyes widened in surprise, and then she was hastening the Ranger from the road lest they be o'erheard by the abundant passing travelers. Already some had eyed them, for they were impeding traffic by standing still. Helluin could only think, what a disaster should he have come in ignorance before the steward or the king.
"The lord and lady have spent 'nigh five years incognito in Gondor and their right names are not to be spoken in the South Kingdom," she told the Ranger sternly. "Should any mention of them needs be made, they are to be called Draugrán son of Faradan and Dúnriel daughter of Anoriel, Captains of the Rangers of Gondor." With a sigh of exasperation, she added, "'Tis politics."
The Ranger regarded her for a moment whilst he memorized the names and ranks, and then he gave her a nod of agreement.
"T'would seem that much has come to pass in the South since they took their leave of Celenhár, Lady Helluin. Pray tell me 'aught else I shall need to know ere seeking audience with the Lords of the City."
"Indeed, much has come to pass here," Helluin confirmed, "and t'would seem the same can be said of the North. We must take counsel together ere thy rede is heard. Pray join me for a meal."
Having been long on the road and hungry most of that time, the Ranger nodded an enthusiastic 'aye' to Helluin's invitation and then offered a tentative smile in thanks.
"Pray lead on then, Lady Helluin, for I know 'naught of the local establishments," he said.
Rather than bringing him into the city where his presence might have raised uncomfortable questions, Helluin chose a roadside inn that served travelers making for the King's City. This stood closer to the Rammas than where they had met and so a few furlongs of backtracking were required, yet so engrossed in conversation were they that the delay passed easily. During that time, they contrived to remain 'twixt other groups of travelers so that they could speak freely.
"I am Húrin son of Glavagor¹," he said in self-introduction. ¹(Glavagor, Yrch Slayer = glam(orcs) + magor(slayer) At the partition in proper nouns, -m becomes –v. The duplicate –m is elided. Sindarin)
The Noldo guessed him to be young, in his mid-twenties perhaps, though age could be difficult to reckon accurately with the Dúnedain. Still, if 'twas true, then he would be a contemporary and possibly an acquaintance of the young lord and lady. It might explain why he had been sent.
"Mae govannen, Húrin. Didst thou know Draugrán or Dúnriel in Eriador?" Helluin asked.
"Only by name," he replied, "for they dwelt in Celenhár whilst I hail from Caras Gwaeren¹, a farming village just west of the central Weather Hills. ¹(Caras Gwaeren, Windy Town = caras(town) + gwaeren(windy) Sindarin)
"Whyfor wast thou sent then?" she asked. "I would have thought the chieftain would choose one long known and recognizable to them."
To this, the young Ranger could only shrug.
"I am unsure," he admitted. "I simply follow Lord Aranarth's orders. Perhaps 'twas that my father fought alongside Prince Eärnur's soldiers in '75 and was curious about the South Kingdom after."
Helluin nodded. Glavagor had been a solder of Arthedain and likely became a Ranger after the war. His son had followed in his footsteps and now enjoyed the opportunity that his father had not. She wondered what impressions he would tell to his father on his return north.
In the meantime, they had reached the inn, a somewhat downtrodden property called En Awarthant Hún¹. Helluin handed Álfrhestr's reins to a stable hand ere leading the Ranger into the common room. There, o'er a cacophony of chatter, she held up two fingers in response to a glance from the barkeep and received a nod in reply. Shortly later, a pursy, apparently quadragenarian serving wench with dark-haired arms and a weak moustache led them to a table in a corner 'neath some smudged and greasy windowpanes that looked out into a cobbled courtyard hosting a well and a sord of ducks. The two cast their eyes to a menu board o'er the bar whereon selections had been scribbled in chalk. ¹(En Awarthant Hún, The Abandoned Heart = en(the) + awartha-(v. abandon) + -ant(past tense suff) + hún(physical heart) Sindarin)
"Anything good?" the Ranger asked softly, pitching his voice for Helluin's ears alone.
"The shepherd's pie has been respectable aforetime, and the braised lamb shanks should be edible now that a half-week of simmering has passed," she answered thoughtfully. "The pale ale has been quite good, though any loaves would be bordering on stale this late in the day, for the kitchen buys only day-old." After a moment for further consideration, she added, "nor can I recommend the chicken as 'tis likely cat."
"And the cheese?" he asked.
"I wouldn't," Helluin replied absently as she watched the serving wench deftly squash a roach with her palm as it ran amidst some plates, and then wipe her hand off on the edge of the table. The diner applauded her heartily and they shared smiles.
"What a cute couple ye make," the wench exclaimed, punctuating her words with a lewd thrust of her hips as she came to their table shortly later. "Now what may I get ye?"
Helluin and the Ranger shared a nod of agreement and the Noldo said, "Pray bring us two portions of the shepherd's pie with mugs of ale, Varminta. Thank thee kindly."
"'Aught for thee, luscious," she said lightly, "and who is thy new lover boy?"
"This is Húrin," Helluin said, nodding to the Ranger.
"Oh, I wager he is, and after a bath, yummmm."
The serving wench cast the Ranger a spine-chilling lascivious smile and then made her way to the kitchen door. Húrin cringed. The wench shouted their order to an unseen cook and then returned to the doorway to survey the common room as she picked her nose.
"Thou knows her, Lady Helluin," he asked in shock, "and are all eating establishments in Gondor like this?"
"I wager e'eryone in the Pelennor knows Varminta," Helluin said after a moment's reflection, "and probably half of those in the city as well. I heard tell that she hath been here three score years. As a result, she hath no notion of propriety any longer, having shed it with her youth.
As for the eating establishments of Gondor, I have found altitude to be the determining factor for the ones 'nigh Minas Tirith. Those at ground level and in the lowest Circles of the City can be much akin to this one. Those at higher elevations tend toward pretension and excess as required by the nobility."
"I see," said Húrin. "To me, Gondor seems a strange place. I suppose that Arthedain was once much alike."
"I recall it being more dignified o'erall, and of course the military presence was a factor in Fornost. There were also mitigating influences from history, and from Lindon and Imladris. Even in the early years of Arnor, the longing for Númenórean decadence was tempered by the austerity of survivor's guilt and the piety of the Faithful, or so it seemed to me."
Húrin had been staring at Helluin, trying to imagine her memories, but she blinked to snap herself from those recollections and fixed him with her glance.
"There is much thou must apprehend ere coming before the steward and the king, Húrin. The timing of thine arrival too seems fated. Draugrán and Dúnriel are to return from a fortnight's furlough on the morrow. Had thou come a day later, I would probably not have found thee ere thou precipitated a crisis."
"So this charade of politic thou mentioned is indeed a dire consideration?"
"Aye, just so. With the counsel of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, 'twas determined that presenting their right names would bring resentment, rejection, and perhaps even danger to their persons. In blood and heritage, they are all that the Gondorim refused to acknowledge in Arvedui and Fíriel. We deemed they could not fulfill any mission when their hosts would not recognize or tolerate their very existence."
"But the King of Gondor sent aid to Arthedain…"
"Eärnil II is a great general and a sufficient leader, but his line is four times removed from the lineal descent of Anárion. The young lord and lady bear the blood of both Elendil's sons as well as that of the First House of the Atani from two sources. They would be an affront to the people and the council that installed the current king."
Húrin was about to reply, but Helluin cast a sharp glance to the kitchen door and gave a subtle shake of her head to silence him. Varminta was swiftly closing in on their table with a laden serving tray. Perhaps she had been too distant to hear their words o'er the din of the common room anyway, but good fortune interceded when a rat scuttled out into her path from 'neath a table.
Quicker than any would have believed possible, the serving wench deftly stamped on the rodent with one of her carved wooden shoes and then leant down to pocket the carcass in her apron whilst still balancing the tray flawlessly. 'Twas doubtful that even a handful of diners had witnessed the event.
"I wager thou turned many heads upon a time, dancing jigs and the like, Varminta," Helluin said approvingly as the server slid their plates from the tray. The Noldo gave her a wink and cast a glance to her bulging apron pocket as a spot of blood just began to leach through the fabric.
Varminta cackled, (revealing some blackened and broken front teeth and a couple gaps), and claimed, "I can still kick up my heels with the finest ladies at Berúthiel's in the Third Circle."
She set their mugs of ale beside their plates and then took her leave. On her way back to the kitchen, she held the tray out like a dance partner and turned a couple pirouettes that raised her skirts in an upsetting fashion. Some diners wolf-whistled appreciatively. In the kitchen, loud voices soon rose in some kind of argument 'twixt their server and the cook. It seemed that Varminta was irate because vermin were discomfiting her guests, whilst he was reluctant to add the rat carcass to the stew pot.
"Been eatin' yer food all along so its made of yer food, yah? Now toss it in, crybaby, people gotta eat," they heard her shout.
Helluin and Húrin traded glances, but concentrated on eating for a while. Both were clinical in examining the contents of the shepherd's pie ere forking 'aught into their mouths. Eventually though, the worst pangs of hunger were sated and they resumed their conversation.
"Whyfor now, Húrin? It hath been 'nigh five years. Why are they being recalled?"
"As thou know, the Lord Níshír and the Lady Athelrian were of an age, each o'er four score years. They were elderly for Men of Twilight. Helluin, Lord Níshír passed in '06, nigh two years ago, and Lord Gwíthír now reigns as the fiftieth King of Eriador."
The Noldo closed her eyes and bowed her head to honor the fallen. The old Lord of Celenhár who had given sanctuary and welcome to Captain Úcúnon and the soldiers who had fled Amon Sûl and the Weather Hills, and had supported the tutelage of Dúnedain as Rangers was gone. Whilst Draugrán had been training in Linhir, his grandfather's spirit had passed from Arda.
"Húrin, what of Lady Athelrian?"
"When I took my leave of the North, she was ailing. No one expected her to greet Loëndë, least of all herself. Being Chief Healer of the Realm, none doubted her prognostication. I should offer no odds that she still draws breath, and so I was sent, for now the young lord and lady are the heirs of their offices and prudence for continuity requires that they return home."
Helluin nodded to acknowledge the Ranger's words. Dúnriel's grandmother had probably already been laid in her grave and her mother, Lady Brennil, had assumed her office as the Heiress of Dúrrél. Of course, none of those names could be spoken in the South, for they and their significance had been told to the Lords of the City. She wondered what cauldron of lies they could concoct to excuse the two captains from their service to Gondor without revealing their true identities. Then she realized that before Vorondil or Eärnil, Húrin would be able to conceal 'naught. They would read the untruths in his eyes as he spoke them. She sighed.
"Is there 'aught else that weighs upon their return? Hast thou any further tidings they must hear?" she asked the Ranger, and to her relief, he shook his head 'nay'.
"Then I shall ease thy dissimulation before the Lords of the City and thou shalt present an 'alternative truth'. Simply stare into my eyes and I shall accomplish the rest."
Thereafter, Helluin and Húrin finished their meal with more haste than cheer, and after Helluin dropped a few coins for Varminta, they took their leave of the common room. Álfrhestr was relieved when they appeared at the stable and he seemed all too eager to be away.
Wherefrom could they have procured so many rats, Helluin? I have ne'er seen so many rats, he said, but then fell silently silent ere wondering, or perhaps 'tis a farm for the husbanding of very small livestock?
Varminta the server would say 'aye' to thy notion, Álfrhestr. A farm 'tis then, for 'people gotta eat'.
They took their leave of the inn and walked back to the road. O'erhead the sky deepened and the fields of the Pelennor blushed purple as the light of the setting sun reflected off the undersides of fair weather clouds. Then Anor slipped behind Mindolluin and the shadow cast by the Ered Nimrais leapt toward them. The long evening of mid-Lothron was warm and pleasant and a scattering of travelers lingered on the road heading home or toward the city.
"As I said aforetime, I reckon that Dúnriel and Draugrán shall return from furlough on the morrow. Ere then, we must make thee presentable and then arrange an audience with the steward. Leave those details to me," Helluin told the Ranger.
They passed through the city gate, and at the entrance to the Second Circle, the sentries greeted Helluin and asked after her guest.
"Here, come from Eriador with tidings for captains Draugrán and Dúnriel, is Húrin son of Glavagor, a Ranger of the North. After refreshing himself from his long journey hither, we must come before the steward."
"Very well, Úlairdacil, ye may pass," the sergeant of the guard said, and his company stood aside.
Those same words were repeated at each successive gate and they partook of the same formality, for after five years, none of the soldiery would have cared to stay the Noldo save at a direct order from the king. She and Húrin continued upwards 'til they came to the courtyard at the foot of the ascending tunnel, and there in the Sixth Circle, Helluin stabled Álfrhestr. There too they met the guards who would escort them upwards to the Court of the Fountain.
For once, the guards asked 'naught of them. They had already satisfied the queries at four gates and would soon be challenged by the Guards of the Citadel. Helluin too was well known to them by then and she had the trust of the Lords of the City. The somewhat ragged Dúnadan who accompanied her could hardly be considered a threat for he was a Ranger, one of their own.
Now they made their way through the tunnel where lamps made their shadows shiver and their footsteps echoed on the steps. At last, they came to the gated exit and stood forth onto the paved walkway in the Court of the Fountain. The guards from the Sixth Circle bowed to their counterparts from the Guard of the Citadel and then retraced their steps back down to their post.
Helluin and Húrin traded bows with the guards, who offered the expected challenge.
"Úlairdacil Helluin Maeg-móremenel, welcome and well met," the detail commander said in formal greeting. "Pray name thy companion and state his business in the Seventh Circle."
"Captain of the Guard, my guest is Húrin son of Glavagor, a Dúnadan Ranger of the North in service to Chieftain Aranarth. He has come to Gondor with tidings for Captains Draugrán and Dúnriel. In their absence, we seek audience with the Lord Steward as his business shall also be of concern to the realm," Helluin replied just as formally. Then she offered a grin and said, "but first, I shall bring him to my apartments where he may be made presentable to his lordship after his long journey."
The guard captain actually chuckled at that, having marked the Ranger's road weary condition.
"I wager the steward shall appreciate thine efforts, Úlairdacil. With thy voucher, I accept Húrin's entrance to the Seventh Circle. Pray proceed."
He then signaled his detail to return to the tower and they marched away smartly in a perfectly synchronized formation. Húrin and Helluin watched them go, and then they too took their leave, passing the White Tree, the Fountain, and the silent, robed Guards of the Court of the Fountain. As they went, the Noldo pointed out the major edifices, King Calimehtar's Watch Tower, the Hall of Kings, Merethrond, the Hall of Feasting, and the Royal Residence.
As they passed the unmoving Guards of the Court of the Fountain, Helluin remarked, "I have watched them drill and spar. Despite their ceremonial garb, they are some of the best fighters in the kingdom. Those lugged spears are not just for show."
'Twas to the Royal Residence that they went, for it housed the guest apartments along with the domiciles of the royal family, the steward and his family, and the chief ministers. When they reached Helluin's suite, they found Gwilwileth in the sitting room reading a book of poetry. With the embassy's return from Rhûn, she had resumed her assignment to the Noldo, a position of much esteem, (and some jealousy amongst the other personal servants), that she had held for most of the past five years. She snapped shut her book and quickly rose to her feet to offer the Noldo a bow and words of welcome. Then she marked the Ranger entering behind her, his raiment travel stained, his boots filthy, and his body stinking of wood smoke and sweat. It all left her aghast for a multitude of causes.
"Oh my, lady Helluin," the Butterfly exclaimed, "art thou not chaperoned whilst coming hence to thy personal chamber…with a strange Man?"
Helluin restrained herself from breaking into a bout of hilarity, but she recognized the breach of propriety that bringing Húrin to her chamber would pose to the genteel and noble of the lordly class.
"Húrin is a traveler from the far land of Eriador in the north," the Noldo explained, "and a Ranger of impeccable character. He must bathe in haste ere meeting the steward, and we must provide more fitting raiment than his travel-worn attire. I shall take my leave at once to arrange an audience with Lord Vorondil whilst thou call for porters to hasten hither with water for the tub. Perchance thou might also obtain from the Controller of the Ministerial Wardrobe some suitable garments for his encounter with His Lordship?"
Gwilwileth absorbed all this with practiced aplomb and a sigh of relief. Her lady would not be left alone with the Ranger Húrin in 'aught that might be construed as a compromising situation, whilst she would be well occupied in discharging her duties and would have many witnesses and no chance for any to find fault in her conduct.
"I shall make all such arrangements as are necessary to render thy guest…presentable, my lady," the Butterfly said.
"My thanks, Gwilwileth," Helluin said, "I greatly appreciate thine aid."
The Butterfly indicated the tub to Húrin, set the folding privacy screen before it with great care, and then fled to find the porters and arrange for the bathwater.
Helluin chuckled and told the Ranger, "Pray relax 'til thy bath is drawn. I shall return after arranging thine audience."
After a nod, Húrin paced o'er to a window that gave a view eastward, and there he divested himself of his bow, quiver, and sword belt. He remained after with his back turned to the room, crossing his arms o'er his chest and staring out the window whilst awaiting the porters.
Helluin doffed her weapons, leaving them on her bed, and then took her leave to go in search of the steward. Swiftly, she climbed stairs and stalked down corridors 'til she reached the section of the residence given o'er to the steward and his family. She deemed that with night fallen o'er an hour past, the evening meal would be done and Vorondil would be relaxing in his chambers. Yet ere she reached those rooms, she rounded a corner and abruptly encountered a Dúnadaneth of 'nigh four score and ten years, accompanied by a younger lord of perhaps two score and ten. 'Twas Dame Bellwen¹ herves Vorondil, the Steward's wife, and Lord Mardil, the steward's heir. They were oblivious, deep in conversation, and appeared to be perambulating the hallway in a post-supper constitutional. ¹(Bellwen, Strong Maiden = bell(strong in body) + gwend(maiden) In proper names, -gw becomes –w at the partition and the final –nd becomes –n. Sindarin)
"My Lord Mardil, my Lady Bellwen, pray forgive my haste," Helluin said, pulling up short and offering them a bow with one hand laid o'er her heart as they jerked to a halt and regarded her in surprise with scarcely a ranga measurable 'twixt their noses.
Helluin's gesture in fact mirrored that of the dame who was clutching her blouse and catching her breath after taking a start. The lord hovered o'er her, solicitous of her well-being.
"Mother, art thou well? Perhaps thou should sit?" Alas, there were no chairs in the hallway.
"I am alright, my son. Pray grant me a moment to recover myself," she said to reassure him. "'Twas simply unexpected, having one popping up on a sudden and unlooked for, dratted corners," she muttered. Then she blinked and regarded Helluin with a momentary squint as if marking her clearly for the first time. "Ahhh, Lady Helluin, fancy meeting thee so. Pray tell, what called thee hither, my dear?"
Lord Mardil also looked to her with curiosity, now that he was sure that his mother was well.
"Lady Bellwen, Lord Mardil, I seek the Lord Steward. A traveler from afar has come to the city bearing tidings to Captains Dúnriel and Draugrán," she revealed, "but these bear too on the South Kingdom and so should be heard by His Lordship."
The heir nodded and was about to reply, but Dame Bellwen spoke the sooner saying, "Vorondil is still at table assailing a vast steak of beef. It seems that since his return from Rhûn, he hath acquired an obsession with such meats and demands them at e'ery meal. 'Tis become tiresome, truth be told, and yet aforetime he subscribed to a varied and healthful diet. I deem the East is truly evil."
She shook her head and clucked her tongue in disapproval.
"My father seems as one enthralled by a preoccupation with cattle, I know not why," Mardil added with both confusion and concern.
"He even had a great cow's horn commissioned and he hath taken to winding it ere setting off for court the past few morns," Dame Bellwen carped. "My ears ring. 'Tis barbaric."
"I see," said Helluin with a sympathetic frown of worry.
It sounded to her as if Vorondil was still trying to process his loss of the Kine of Araw that he had speared. The were-worm had made quite an impression and that was hardly unexpected. Commissioning an heirloom horn had been his plan all along, but the Noldo had not expected him to blow it indoors e'ery morn. That seemed…curious.
"May I go to him, my lady? My lord?" Helluin asked. "I should not favor that the hour grows later."
"Oh yes, yes, pray go and talk some sense into him, Helluin, dear," Dame Bellwen said in exasperation. "Perhaps thou can dissuade him from the desserts of beef pudding…'tis barbaric."
"Thou knows whither to go, Helluin, second door on the left," Mardil added, giving a cant of his head down the hall whence he and his mother had come.
The Noldo bowed her farewells to the lord and lady and then continued towards the steward's apartments. A last glance back revealed Bellwen and Mardil continuing down the hall, preoccupied in the resumption of their conversation, (no doubt about the steward's recently acquired foibles), but swinging wide 'round the next turn. Helluin rapped with her knuckles on the door.
"'Tis open," she heard Vorondil's muffled voice called through the door, "pray enter."
She twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Beyond a dimly lit sitting room, she marked the more brightly lit dining chamber, and there, seated in a high-backed chair at a finely crafted table, was Lord Vorondil, knife in one hand, fork in the other, sawing at a porterhouse that could have weighed not less than a half-stone.
"My Lord Steward," she said, offering a bow and then walking forward.
Vorondil finished chewing, spat a hunk of connective tissue into his lap cloth and then took a restorative swig from a goblet of wine.
"Ahhh, Úlairdacil Helluin, pray be seated," he said, indicating the chair facing him with a jab of his fork. "Whyfor dost thou grace my chamber this eve?"
Helluin moved to take the recommended chair and marked that the steak was three-quarters consumed and bloody enough to satisfy an Orch's tastes.
"Lord Vorondil, I come bearing tidings of a visitor from Eriador who arrived but hours ago. Being long upon the road and famished when we met on the Pelennor, I provided him a meal at a local inn lest he collapse ere delivering his rede."
At her tidings, interest lit the steward's eyes and he hastened to chew his current mouthful of meat so that he could reply. Ere he could swallow, Helluin continued.
"He is a Ranger of the North, my lord, one Húrin son of Glavagor, dispatched upon errantry from the Chieftain Aranarth to bear tidings to the Captains Draugrán and Dúnriel."
The steward's eyes widened at that and he forced himself to swallow, the effort causing him a long blink, and Helluin had the impression of a bullfrog that repeatedly closes its eyes and uses the volume of its eyeballs to fill its throat, thereby tamping food down its gullet. He took another swig of wine, but ere he could speak, Helluin again continued.
"My Lord, the captains are recalled to Eriador, to the service of their lord. Indeed all Rangers errant are recalled to Eriador after a term not to exceed five years."
Vorondil choked on his wine. Helluin hastened 'round the table to thump him on the back 'til he recovered.
"I pray thy pardon, Lord Steward," she said as he coughed the last of the vintage from his windpipe. He then wiped his lips and set aside his dining implements and his lap cloth, (bulging with lumps of gristle).
"So they are to be recalled home," he finally mused. "'Tis a shame, for we have benefitted so much by their efforts, yet they took no binding oaths of service to Gondor and 'twas acknowledged from the start that they remained vassals of their Lord Aranarth. I shall be sorry to see them go. So too shall the king. I reckon that thou shalt accompany them north as well?"
"Aye, my lord, for I now have many tidings to share with the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood and with Lord Elrond in Imladris," she said, "and t'would be safer for all concerned if I accompany the Rangers back to Eriador."
"I understand," the steward said, "I can imagine thy friends shall value tidings of the fall of two more Ringwraiths, amongst other things."
To this, Helluin nodded gravely.
"Thou shalt be missed in the South, my friend," Vorondil said with great sincerity, "and I hope t'will not be another five or six centuries 'til we see thee next."
"As e'er, I go whither the need of my aid is greatest, meldir nín, for 'til his final fall, the opposition of Sauron is my calling. It hath been my honor to aid thee, and to aid Gondor."
"The honor has been ours, Úlairdacil. Pray bring the visiting Ranger of the North to me when he is made presentable. I would hear his rede, and then we shall arrange to counsel King Eärnil after the captains have returned to the city."
"I believe we can come before thee within the hour, my lord, for when I left him, he was preparing for a bath and a change of garments," Helluin said.
"That would be well, Helluin. I shall be up another couple hours working on my digestion."
Helluin bowed to the steward in parting, thinking that his last words had sounded very much like the concerns of her horse. She retraced her steps 'cross the darkened sitting room and then grasped the door knob and pulled open the door. There on the threshold stood Dame Bellwen and Lord Mardil, the latter with his hand outstretched to grasp the doorknob.
Lady Bellwen recoiled, gasping in shock, and Lord Mardil jerked his hand back as if it had been burnt. They had obviously finished their perambulation and were returning to their rooms. Helluin barely checked her own reflexes, but rather than gouging out the eyes of her ambushers, she managed to step back and hold the door open for them to pass. She offered a bow to each as they recovered, thinking, twice in one half-hour, what are the chances?
"Lady Bellwen, Lord Mardil, welcome home. I pray the constitutional has abetted your digestion," she offered, and then inwardly regretted it as graceless.
"My word, Lady Helluin, is it truly thee lurking there in the dark, my dear?" Dame Bellwen asked, taking a moment to confirm that 'twas indeed the Noldo. Following a further moment to appraise her own condition, she claimed, "I shall consider the effect balanced 'twixt the therapeutic blenching and the calming walk. I believe I shall take some bitters to tip the scales lest I suffer nightmares of horns and o'ersized meats."
Lord Mardil simply dipped his head to Helluin in greeting and said, "Pray have a good night."
When they had entered the sitting room, Helluin stepped out into the corridor and gently pulled the door closed behind her. As it swung shut, she heard the heir mutter, "…and we must have a proper doorman."
Upon returning to her apartment, Helluin found the door wide open and a chittering gaggle of maidservants clustered round the entrance. Húrin appeared refreshed and clad in a restrained suit of summer clothes featuring an embroidered waistcoat of damasked black silk o'er a short-collared white linen shirt with loose sleeves, tight cuffs, and a half-open front laced closed. Its hem o'erhung a pair of black breeches cut loose along the thighs and tighter on the calves where they disappeared into his tall boots, which had been cleaned and shined. Most surprisingly, his hair had been trimmed and his face shaved to leave a short and tasteful goatee. Helluin nodded in approval and traded smiles with Gwilwileth as she withdrew carrying a straight razor, a pair of scissors, and a comb.
"Thou appear wholly renewed and ready for court, Húrin," she said in praise. "One could easily mistake thee for a lord on holiday rather than a Ranger errant. Pray come with me now, for Steward Vorondil awaits."
"I should come more oft to Gondor," he said, flashing a brief glance to the maidservants whilst shrugging on an open fronted surcoat of thin black leather and fastening it with a few ties down the front. "I wager I shall not need my arms."
His bow, quiver, and sword belt were still leaning against the wall 'neath the window.
"Nay, thou shalt not," Helluin confirmed, spreading her hands to show that she too was unarmed.
They made their way from the Noldo's chambers, past the drooling maidservants, down corridors and up staircases 'til they reached the steward's apartments. The way was 'roundabout enough that Húrin was soon lost.
"This residence is no less convoluted than a rabbit warren," he remarked, shaking his head.
"Though it appears architecturally consolidated without, this building has been amended in floor plan roughly e'ery century for two thousand years," Helluin revealed. "Additions grew like branches in a bramble with the most desirable spaces shifting for the sake of the best views. I believe my guest apartment once hosted the Royal Minister of Charlatanry and Chicanery."
He shook his head in amusement.
"Alone, I should ne'er find my way hence, nor return ere my lifespan expired."
"Bah," said Helluin, dismissing his concern with a smile, "any amongst that flock of maidservants would have been only too willing to lead thee hence upon some meandering course."
"In my short tenure here, I have come to trust Gwilwileth," he admitted. 'She is an artist with razor and scissors. My own mother would mistake me now. Only she would I trust to lead me hence."
"Alas for my poor Gwilwileth," Helluin sighed, shaking her head in sympathy, "having already stoked the flames of jealousy amongst her peers by attending the celebrated Úlairdacil, she shall now be led to the gallows of gossip and innuendo by the hormonal mob, or perhaps burnt at the stake of their frustrated and lustful fantasies."
Húrin met her words with a belly laugh and with a glint in his eyes, replied, "As I said aforetime, I should come more oft to Gondor."
"Ahhh, we have arrived, O 'Aspiring Rake of the North'," Helluin said, and rapped upon the steward's door.
To her astonishment, they were met by a proper doorman of distinguished age, clad in livery of the royal house, a new addition to the steward's domicile who had sprouted to his station more quickly than a bean shoot. He offered them a courteous bow whilst managing to block any possibility of entrance.
"Pray state your names and business with His Lordship the Steward of the Realm," he declared with proper officiousness whilst looking down his nose at them despite being shorter than both.
"I am Úlairdacil Helluin Maeg-móremenel, and accompanying me is Húrin son of Glavagor, a Ranger of the North who bears tidings significant to the realm. We are expected."
Despite it being now but two hours ere midnight, the doorman consulted a leather-bound book of appointments that could not have existed even a half-hour ago. The Noldo was suitably impressed.
"Ahhh yes, I see the appointment," he said, ere reproaching them with, "ye are but slightly late."
"Our apologies for delaying the Lord Steward," Helluin said, practicing the interplay of courtly wrangling. "We would not that the hour grows later still. Are we to be admitted?"
Heaving a sigh of dissatisfaction at their imposition, the doorman stood aside and ushered them in with a sweeping, theatrical gesture.
"Ye may find the Lord Steward taking his dessert in the dining chamber," he said.
Indeed, Steward Vorondil sat at his dining table in the same chair where Helluin had left him. The platter of steak was gone and a compote of bite-sized, mixed fruit and steak cubes cooked in simple syrup with cinnamon, clove, raisins, and beef stock rested before his lordship. Seeing their approach, he set down his spoon and wiped his lips on a fresh lap cloth.
"Ahhh, Helluin," he said as the two bowed in respect. Then he eyed the Ranger and added, "and thou must be Húrin. I hope thy journey was safe albeit long. Welcome to Minas Tirith. Pray be seated and I shall hear thy rede."
The steward indicated a pair of chairs 'cross the table from him with a jab of his serrated spoon and they sat.
"May I offer ye a cordial?" asked Vorondil, tilting his head to a bottle of blended spirits and some small, cut crystal stem glasses that rested on a salver in the center of the table.
Not liking where the steward's menu had headed, Helluin declined, but Húrin thankfully accepted their host's hospitality and received a glass. This he took a sip from, swirled in his mouth, and then swallowed with a questioning expression.
"'Tis a cocktail unlike 'aught I have tasted aforetime," the Ranger said. "Pray reveal its compounding, my lord?"
The steward waved his question away, saying, "'Tis but a simple blend; tincture of armoise and a bovine consommé. It hath the virtue of ensuring the digestive constitution."
After a nod of thanks, Húrin downed the remainder of his glass whilst Vorondil continued with his dessert, yet after a few more bites, the steward slid the compote to the side and settled his eyes of the Ranger.
"Helluin has spoken somewhat of thy purpose here in the South, Húrin son of Glavagor. I would hear such particulars as thou hast been bidden to convey. Captains Draugrán and Dúnriel have provided invaluable service to Gondor, yet their allegiance has e'er been to Chieftain Aranarth. If we are to lose them shortly, pray enlighten me regarding their orders."
Húrin dipped his head to the steward and answered straightaway, saying, "My Lord Steward, 'tis the policy of Chieftain Aranarth that all Rangers errant should be recalled after a term of five years. As Draugrán and Dúnriel took their leave of Eriador on 8 Urui of 2003, and as 'tis now 14 Lothron of 2008, they are at risk of becoming o'erdue as I wager they cannot return from Gondor in time. I reckon that barring unforeseen delays, they shall arrive a fortnight late, though I wager Chieftain Aranarth shall suspend sanctions as travel time is unpredictable."
"I see," said the steward. "Pray allow me to draft a missive to thy chieftain proffering explanations for their possible tardiness.
They commanded a security detail charged with ensuring my own safety as my king's ambassador from Gondor to the Ithryn Luin in Furthest Rhûn. We returned from that journey only on the 1st, and thereafter all involved were furloughed for a fortnight.
I cannot imagine that Lord Aranarth would require them to travel from Gondor to Eriador post haste immediately after riding eight hundred leagues with a respite at the Ithryn Luin's citadel of but three days."
"All pertinent factors shall be taken into account, Lord Steward," Húrin said. "I do not believe that Chieftain Aranarth's desire is for punitive sanctions, only to motivate the timely return of those who range far afield. Thine account and testimony shall surely bear weight."
During all this time, Vorondil accepted what Húrin said, for he detected no untruths in the Ranger's words. As he and Helluin had spoken aforetime, he did not question her for corroboration.
The steward called for parchment, pen, and ink, and he drafted a couple pages outlining his mission to Rhûn and the captains' parts in it. 'Twas a concise report such as a military officer would submit for actions by soldiers under his command. Helluin and Húrin waited patiently as the sound of his quill scratching occupied the half-part of an hour, during which time he pressed his tongue into the corner of his lips as he softly muttered the words he wrote. Finally, he finished, signed his name and dated the document, and then rolled it and affixed the Seal of the Steward of the King of Gondor. This he handed to Húrin.
"Captains Dúnriel and Draugrán are due in the city at noon. Once I have assured their arrival, I shall petition the king for audience and send word to thee to attend," Vorondil said. "I wager ye may take to the road thereafter, or at worst, upon the following morn. Pray rest well this night, Húrin son of Glavagor. I thank thee for thy tidings."
With their audience concluded, Helluin and Húrin rose and bowed to the steward who was reclaiming his compote and gave them a nod of dismissal. The doorman was already edging into the dining chamber from the darkened sitting room and hastened them hence with the same sweeping gesture he had deployed aforetime. At the door, he deigned to bid them a good night.
Shortly later, they returned to Helluin's apartment. By then, Húrin was yawning from his long day. The bevy of maidservants had since departed and Gwilwileth was nowhere to be seen. Helluin bid the Ranger avail himself of her bed and then she took her leave. She had tarried in her rooms only long enough to reclaim her arms.
The weather was fine and the Noldo favored the view of the stars, the city, and the land from the o'erlook at the eastern tip of the Court of the Fountain. At some point, she absentmindedly pulled up from 'neath her armor the blackened mithril foxtail chain from which Beinvír's ring hung 'round her neck. This token of love she clasped tight in her hand, and thereafter, she spent the remaining hours of darkness ruminating in her flawless memory o'er some things she had heard during her recovery of it.
On 7 Narbeleth, T.A. 1975, Helluin had come to Dol Guldur in the company of Prince Fram and four of his warriors. There she had discovered Beinvír's ring ere they had slaughtered the remaining Yrch, but 'twas from a lynx in the forest west of the fortress that she had received momentous tidings, o'erlooked and unrecognized aforetime in the narrow-mindedness of her purpose and rage.
I come from o'er the mountains seeking tidings of one abducted years ago. I believe she was brought to yonder tower. Pray tell, know thou if any linger there?
The lynx produced a low growl through curled lips, and his expression was one of disgust.
Lore tells of the long hunt of many Men and Yrch from the tower, seeking for something 'nigh the banks of the river. For centuries it continued, yet we learnt 'naught of what treasure they sought. Generations ago, most fled with their masters and but few remained. Here he shivered, as with the lingering fear of nightmares or dark tales.
So some tarry still? Helluin asked, just to be sure.
Aye, some few dozen goblins, the lynx said. I avoid them as they blunder through the trees, but they no longer seek for 'aught 'nigh the river and seldom stray far from their accursed walls.
With the dawn, Helluin returned to her apartments, opening her door to find Húrin vigorously copulating with the Butterfly. Clothing, pillows, and covers lay strewn 'cross the floor as if by a cyclone. So engaged were they in thrusting, grunting, and moaning that they marked her not. Employing the stealth of the Laiquendi, she recovered her travel bag and cloak just as an eager Gwilwileth began to choke rhythmically on something thick, and then the Noldo withdrew to seek for breakfast, leaving them to continue in their pneumatics none the wiser.
Rather than joining the noble householders in the dining room of the Royal Residence, she opted to ride Álfrhestr down to the Second Circle and break her fast at the Ranger compound. The First Guardian was greeted warmly and took eggs, bacon, and toasted bread with butter and honey in welcome company.
Thereafter, knowing that Dúnriel and Draugrán would come thither straightaway on their return to Minas Tirith, she availed herself of good conversation and some sparring in the training yard 'til just ere noon when she was boisterously greeted by Húveren. The now mature hound wagged and squirmed like a pup as he came to lean against her leg and accept her praise, caresses of his head, and scratches behind his ears. The two captains followed him in, tossing down their travel bags and drawing mugs of cider to slake their thirst.
"Welcome back," Helluin said. "I pray ye enjoyed your holiday?"
"Aye, very much so," Dúnriel said. "The cottage was peaceful and the scenery beautiful."
"'Twas simply nice to be at leisure for a change," Draugrán added. "I had forgotten even the notion of idleness."
"Pray refresh yourselves after your ride and take some food if ye have not enjoyed a noon meal. Thereafter, we must be away to the Seventh Circle," Helluin informed them.
The two stared at her with questions lighting their eyes and she told them, "Yestereve a Ranger came from Eriador bearing tidings, and last night we met with the steward. This afternoon, ye shall appear before the king. Ye are recalled to Eriador by order of Chieftain Aranarth."
"So our holiday was the calm ere the storm," Draugrán remarked lightly.
They both grew more somber when Helluin did not contradict him. Instead, they heaved sighs and delivered their travel gear to their quarters, then joined the officers' mess for a hasty noon meal. Afterwards, they donned fresh clothes and groomed themselves for an audience before the king. They bid Húveren remain at the compound whilst they rode up through the circles of the city.
"Know thou this Ranger?" Dúnriel asked as they rode.
"He proffered the name Húrin son of Glavagor," the Noldo said. "Dost thou know him?"
The two captains looked to each other, but though 'Húrin' was common enough, neither could recall one with that full name. They both shook their heads 'nay'.
"That is expected," Helluin said, "for he claimed he knew ye only by name, hailing as he doth from Caras Gwaeren, a village west of the Weather Hills."
"That sounds but vaguely familiar," Draugrán said, and Dúnriel nodded in agreement.
"Ye shall meet him shortly. I would have brought him with me, but he was indisposed this morn," the Noldo hedged through gritted teeth.
"I am sure he was exhausted from his journey hither," Dúnriel said to be charitable.
"Uh-huh," Helluin muttered, "if so, then he hid it well."
The two Rangers eyed her with curiosity, but she declined to elaborate.
At last, they reached the Sixth Circle and stabled their horses. Then up through the lamp lit tunnel they paced, finally arriving at the Court of the Fountain. There they proceeded, but slowly, taking time to look all 'round as they had the first time, for they deemed this time might be the last. The two Dúnedain sought to memorize the quality of light on Mindolluin and the vista of the Pelennor. They gazed down on the Circles of the City and 'cross the Rath Dínen to the Tombs of the Kings, then up to the crown of the tower. As tourists they came, and as tourists they shall go, Helluin thought as she watched.
Finally, they made their way into the Hall of Kings. Court was in session, but they approached and stood to one side of the crowd of supplicants who had come to beseech the king's judgments on a plethora of civic matters. Upon arriving, Helluin caught Vorondil's eye and he leant forward to whisper in the king's ear. Afterwards, he gave her a nod.
King Eärnil heard the remainder of the case already before him, consulted with his advisers and then rendered his decision, yet ere the next dispute could be brought, he announced a stay of one half hour ere they would resume. Then, straightaway, he adjourned and followed the steward from the throne. Vorondil gestured Helluin, Dúnriel, and Draugrán to follow, and they made their way to the withdrawing chamber behind the throne. They found Húrin son of Glavagor already ensconced in a chair at the table, having been summoned at noon and then left to wait. He rose and offered the lords a bow. Then the king and the steward seated themselves and Helluin and the captains approached and stood before them where Húrin joined them. At the far end of the table sat a scribe with pages spread before him and his hand already poised to set quill to parchment to record the proceeding for the archives of Gondor.
"My steward has informed me of the tidings borne hence by Húrin son of Glavagor, Ranger of the North," King Eärnil said.
"For the official record, I bid ye recite them for us all to hear, Húrin," Vorondil prompted.
So charged, the Ranger spoke his rede as Helluin had implanted it in his memory on their way to the city a night ago. The king and the steward regarded him carefully, but detected no fictions and Eärnil nodded in acceptance of his words when he fell silent.
"Captain, Draugrán, Captain Dúnriel, as vassals of the Chieftain Aranarth, ye have been called home to Eriador," King Eärnil said. "In recognition of your exemplary service to Gondor and the crown, I offer the thanks of the realm and renew the welcome of the South Kingdom to ye both for so long as ye may abide in Middle Earth. Your commissions at the ranks of Captains of the Rangers of Gondor shall remain for a like term. By your honor and courage, ye have earnt our esteem and we look to your return. Lelyalye mí sere ar varnie, ar as aistassilma¹." ¹(Lelyalye mí sere ar varnie, ar as aistassilma, (You)Go in peace and safety, and with our blessings = lelya-(go) + -lye(2nd pers pl pron subj suff, you) + mí(in) sere(peace) + ar(and) + varna(safe) + -ie(n on adj suff, safety) + ar(and) + as(with) + aista-(bless) + -sse(n on v action suff, blessing) + -i(pl n suff, blessings) + -lma(1st pers pl poss suff, our) Quenya)
"King Eärnil, Steward Vorondil, it hath been our privilege and honor to serve the Realm of Gondor," Draugrán said. "As a home the South Kingdom has become to us."
"King Eärnil, Steward Vorondil, we offer our thanks for the trust and honor bestowed upon us by the South Kingdom and the crown. With love we shall hold the Realm of Gondor in our hearts hereafter," Dúnriel said.
The two captains bowed to the king and the steward and received bows in return. Then, King Eärnil turned to Helluin, for she too would take her leave.
"Helluin Maeg-móremenel of the Host of Finwë, already thou art known in Gondor as a foremother of kings, the Úlairdacil, and First Guardian of the Rangers of Lebennin. We know not what added title we could bestow, even for the slaying of two more Nazgûl. I deem t'would be tantamount to hubris for this mortal realm to try," he said, and offered the Noldo a smile that she returned. "'Til next we meet, pray go with the knowledge that the realm of Gondor stands in thy debt. Thou hast the welcome of the South Kingdom 'til world's ending or this realm falls."
"Your Majesty, Lord Steward, distant in blood we may be, but still we are kin. I shall do what I can for Gondor 'til world's ending or the realm falls," she said. "Lord Steward, I have one request if it may be."
Vorondil looked to Helluin and raised a brow in question, bidding her continue.
"I have heard thou hast now a great warrior's horn," she said. "Pray wind it for us as we take our leave of the city?"
"I shall be honored to do so at thy leave taking, Úlairdacil," the steward said with a smile.
Then the Noldo bowed to the king and the steward and they returned her bows, and they parted with much honor and friendship. Thereafter, none of them would e'er meet again.
Now though 'twas just told that none of them would e'er meet again, was this assertion wholly true? Of Helluin, Draugrán, and Dúnriel with King Eärnil, Prince Eärnur, and the Lord Steward Vorondil, those words indeed held true. Yet one other principal had stood at that council in the king's withdrawing chamber, and 'twas not the scribe.
Húrin son of Glavagor made a choice that day, and whereas he was expected to return to Eriador, ne'er again to see the South Kingdom, this was not to be, and not for any oath of fealty to lord or realm.
After taking their leave of the king's council, Helluin accompanied Draugrán and Dúnriel back to the Ranger compound in the Second Circle. Thither they needed to recover Húveren, their horses, and their travel bags, and then bid farewell to their comrades in arms. As their leave taking was a surprise to all, this took time, and indeed two further hours were required so that the company riding north did not pass the gate 'til midafternoon.
Having left his travel gear and weapons in Helluin's apartment, Húrin returned thither to collect his kit. There he found Gwilwileth replacing linens on the bed and they spoke whilst he readied his shoulder bag and donned his sword belt.
Now what words passed 'twixt those two come not into any tale, but from later actions, the Wise might hazard to guess. Perhaps some declarations of the heart were forthcoming, along with sweet well wishing for each other's continued safety, and their mutual regret at parting. Truly, they had only just met, and yet they had each found some ethereal connection, profound and longed for in their hearts, that tugged at their sprits and drew them together.
With little to stay them, for neither expected to e'er meet the other again, perhaps they gave voice to their awareness that they felt a far stronger and more earnest depth of caring than so short a time should have conferred. Perhaps each confessed their fear as much as their sorrow at their impending parting, and wondered aloud to the other how they would abide the long years ahead that now seemed cheerless and bereft of the possibility of joy. In parting, he gifted her the broach that pinned his cloak, as a memento and keepsake of the North and in token of the part of himself she would e'er claim that he would leave behind.
Finally, perhaps they held each other and shared tears as well as kisses ere haltingly speaking words of farewell that neither desired to hear. Whate'er passed 'twixt them, it left Húrin somber and distant when he finally arrived at the Ranger compound. Barely did he acknowledge the Rangers of the South, whilst to his traveling companions he seemed stricken. Their parting left Gwilwileth lying on Helluin's bed sobbing ere she finally made her way to the tip of the embrasure of the Court of the Fountain to watch him ride away and take her heart with him. There she found the steward standing silent and alone, holding a great horn.
"Ahhh, thou hast come to bid farewell to thy mistress, Helluin Úlairdacil and the Rangers of the North, as do I," Vorondil said, taking pity on her in her obvious sorrow. Indeed, he was touched that the chambermaid felt so keenly the departure of her mistress. "Pray join me here and we shall offer each other comfort 'til they pass away north."
Gwilwileth said 'naught, but offered the steward a deep curtsy and moved to stand beside him where the sun lit them both. On so clear a day, the sharp eyes of the Dúnedain and the Noldo would easily mark them though they waited seven hundred feet above the gate. The Butterfly felt almost as if she could fly to him from that high place with little to lose in the attempt.
Now all too soon it seemed, they saw the small figures of Helluin and the Rangers of the North riding out from the gate, Húveren leading the way and Húrin having some minor difficulties on his newly gifted horse. Then Vorondil raised his arms and drew a deep breath, and he set the Great Horn of Gondor to his lips and blew a blast, a heroic note that might well have been heard in Osgiliath.
On the Pelennor before the city gate, the departing company paused at that call, and looking up to the embrasure, they saw Vorondil just lowering the horn, and standing beside him, Gwilwileth. Of her Helluin was sure, for with her Elvish sight, the chambermaid was clear in e'ery detail, even her puffy eyes, the trickle of tears that ran down her cheek, and the Ranger broach pinned to her blouse. With Dúnriel and Draugrán, Helluin bowed in the saddle to the steward, but Húrin set three fingers to his lips and then held them aloft in a salute to the chambermaid and he saw his last farewell kiss returned.
"No min noad awarthant húnin?¹" he softly whispered, and then he said no more. ¹(No min noad awarthant húnin? Are we to be abandoned hearts? = no-(be) + min(1st pers pl subj pron, we) + no-(be) + -ad(inf v suff, to be) + awartha-(v. abandon) + -ant(past tense suff) + hún(physical heart) + -in(pl n suff, hearts) Sindarin)
Only Helluin's Elvish ears marked his question, and she gave no sign that she had heard.
Together, the steward and the chambermaid watched them ride away up the north road towards the Rammas 'til they were but distant specs amongst the other travelers making for Anórien. The steward gave the chambermaid a glance, and briefly meeting her eyes, he offered her a grim nod and took his leave. Gwilwileth remained, for she could not tear herself away 'til they were lost to sight, when her brief dream would transform into a lonely nightmare.
On the road Helluin, Draugrán, and Dúnriel shared speech, confirming their route home by way of the West Road through Anórien, then north to ford the Onodló, past Fangorn Forest, to visit Lothlórien. After Helluin took counsel with Celeborn and Galadriel, they would follow the Dwarf Road north 'til they could turn west and take the High Pass to Imladris. From there, the way to Rhudaur was well known. During all that time, Húrin remained silent, not even grunting to acknowledge their words. His eyes were focused far away, as if gazing with longing upon some receding shore. By then, even Húveren was casting worried glances to him, sensing his melancholy.
Finally, they made to pass the roadside inn where Helluin had brought him for supper and wherein Varminta stomped on rats, and there Húrin turned his horse off the road and stopped. The name on the dilapidated inn's sign fixed him in place as if he had fallen 'neath some enchantment, and indeed he had. Perhaps aforetime someone else had made the wrong choice. En Awarthant Hún, The Abandoned Heart.
Helluin turned Álfrhestr off the road to confront Húrin, and Dúnriel and Draugrán followed.
"Thou can go no further," the Noldo said with pity for his torment.
Slowly the Man looked up to meet her eyes and he shook his head.
"Nay, I cannot."
"Little service shall Lord Aranarth find in a Ranger who has no longer a heart to fight, or even to live," she told him, "but perhaps the steward and the king may."
She took from her travel bag the viewing tube from the East, and assembling it, passed it to Húrin. Unfamiliar with it, some moments were required ere he focused and directed his sight. Upon the tip of the embrasure, he saw that Gwilwileth still stood, and in that high place, she surely marked that they had stayed their ride. He handed the device back to Helluin and then he turned beseeching eyes to Draugrán and Dúnriel.
"Captain Draugrán, Captain Dúnriel, I beg leave to return to Minas Tirith, to take up if I may, the service of a Ranger of Gondor. My heart now lies in the South and t'would be 'naught but a wight that would walk the North."
Though they were not his captains and he could no longer recall who they really were, 'twas they who would have to report his absence to the chieftain. Silently, he awaited their decision.
"The North has already enough wights," Draugrán finally said, "and I shall not bequeath to my homeland another. I am sure that the chieftain would agree."
"I too reject the morgûl of the Witch King, to take from a Man his life and soul by some dark command," Dúnriel said. "Better a Dúnadan of the South with a heart than a Dúnadan of the North with none."
Húrin bowed low in the saddle to the captains, and then he spurred his horse to a gallop, back down the road towards Minas Tirith. They watched him go, and when they saw him pass the gates of the city, they returned to the road and made for the Rammas.
To Be Continued