In An Age Before – Part 256
After breaking their fasts in the morning light, and after the freshly laid eggs had been collected, Helluin and Eryniel wrapped cloth 'round their faces to protect themselves from the dust, and then Helluin spoke to the chickens, bidding them hence from their coop that it could be cleaned. The hens had been through all this aforetime, and with a few clucks of thanks, most hopped or fluttered out of their nest boxes, or abandoned the roosting bars, and strode out the door. The few that remained Helluin carefully lifted, box, nest, hen, and chicks, and whilst whispering soothing words, took them away to be set temporarily atop an outdoor shelf.
The cleaning began with the dumping and sweeping away of all the loose straw and nesting material on the floor. Because the chickens ranged free to forage, not much feed was kept in the indoor feeding trough save in winter, but that too was dumped outside and cleaned. The water pots were emptied, scrubbed out, and rinsed. The unoccupied nesting boxes were emptied and cleaned. After scraping guano from the roosting bars, the walls 'round it, and any that had not been caught in the straw covering the floor, all was swept up and dumped with the old feed into a composting bin.
Once the inside of the coop was clear of debris, they splashed it with water and scrubbed it with stiff bristled brushes, then rinsed it and withdrew to allow it to dry. They were glad to doff their breathing protection, unwrapping the strips of cloth from 'round their faces.
"We shall return in the late afternoon to renew the straw and set out water and feed," Helluin said. "'Til then, the vegetable garden needs weeding. Come, join me."
Eryniel nodded, marking that several of the hens had taken turns looking into the coop as if to assure themselves that the work had been done properly. Shortly later, these rejoined the rest of the flock, prospecting in the yard for fallen grain, worms, and bugs.
They went first to the barn, and Helluin picked out a pair of bushel baskets, giving one to Eryniel. She then led the elleth to the vegetable garden where they set to work pulling up all the newly sprouted interlopers. 'Twas easy to see that this chore had been done e'ery few days, for none of the weeds had reached the size of the crops, making them easy to identify. When they were done, they emptied the baskets into a compost bin beside the garden and then broke for the noon meal.
They returned to the cabin, finding that Galadhon had gone to the bramble beside the river and picked a shallow basketful of mixed raspberries and blackberries, and simmered down a meal of cracked oats. They had milk, still fresh from the early morning milking, crystal clear water from the stream, and the cider of apples gifted a few days past from the trees. With the addition of game sausage and cheese, they had a hearty meal. After cleaning up, they had still several hours ere returning to finish with the chicken coop.
"I feel the desire to roam," Helluin declared, "I bid thee bring thy bow and join me."
It seemed the Noldo intended to hunt and this brought a smile to Eryniel's face. She gathered her bow and quiver and followed Helluin from the cabin.
They first headed west, down the road towards the mill, but after a mile, turned northwest into the woods. After a half-hour and half a league, they marked the split rail fence marking the western bounds of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý. The woods continued to the west for many miles. To the east, beyond the trees lay rolling hills where the sheep were wont to graze. After another couple furlongs, they spotted movement in the woods past the fence; grey shapes stalking north, and Helluin watched a while, bending her thought upon the leader.
Eryniel had set an arrow to her bowstring, but Helluin stayed her and shook her head 'nay'. Her own weapon was still o'er her shoulder. The elleth relaxed and waited with the Noldo 'til one of the hunters broke from his pack and approached. He met Helluin's eyes and they spoke.
Greetings, grey hunter, Helluin said, offering the alpha wolf a dip of her head.
Greetings, bright one, said the wolf, what brings thee hither?
We came to walk 'neath the trees and to cull any we find injured. How goes thy hunt?
The wolf gave a subtle shake of his head and an expression of disgust shaped his features.
We have failed thus far whilst accompanied by the pups. We hope to instruct them, but so far, they have set the deer to flight. I would swear that like silly dogs they are incapable of restraint and cannot lie still.
'Tis early in the season yet, Helluin replied, sympathetically, surely as they grow they shall become more serious. I wager that Lothron in most years is much the same.
The wolf nodded in agreement without breaking eye contact.
What thou say is true, he said with an air of resignation. I suppose a few more weeks of hunger may be accounted as motivation in the end.
Whither went these deer?
Leapt the fence, and by our agreement, we pursue them not into thy holding.
Helluin offered the wolf a dip of her head to honor his commitment to the old treaty 'twixt the wolves and the farmers. For the safety of their sheep, Ivar, and Leifr after him, had shot game in Norðr-vestandóttir Bý and left it on the fence for the pack, mostly in winter when game was scarce.
Perhaps we can be of aid? Helluin offered. Dost thou scent them to the north?
Indeed so, five, of which we would take the young doe without fawn. I reckon they are three furlongs ahead by now.
Go thither then and prepare to chase, Helluin said with a smile. We shall drive them to thee.
My thanks, bright one, be well, the wolf said, bowing his head in gratitude ere returning to his pack. After a short council, they immediately began loping off to the north, but stayed within sight of the fence.
All this Eryniel had watched, for 'twas obvious that much had passed ''twixt Helluin and the wolf. It had actually seemed civil, a great surprise, for wolves were generally regarded as foes in the Greenwood. Ere they went forward, she questioned the Noldo.
"Helluin, whyfor did thou stay me from driving off that pack?" she asked in a whisper. "Do they not prey on thy livestock?"
"Indeed they do not, for by some old treaty with the farmers, they ne'er cross the fence," Helluin replied. At the elleth's shocked expression, she explained. "On one of my first inspections of these lands, the pack alpha, this one's father, approached me and we held parlay. He reminded me of the agreement 'twixt his people and the stockmen of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý and wondered if I would continue to honor it. I asked after the terms and they seemed mutually beneficial, so I agreed, with one added request.
Therefore, the wolves here do not hunt within the fence, nor threaten the livestock. We do 'naught to persecute them and have healed some of their injuries. During the winter and at other times if game is scarce, Galadhon and I hunt on our lands and offer the carcasses to feed the pack. And now, they too keep watch for Orcs and others doing evil in these lands, offering tidings when necessary."
"Amazing," Eryniel said. There truly was a watch on these lands, and the hunters that were regarded by her folk as potential foes were welcomed here as allies. "So what now?"
"Now we stalk a small herd of deer that took refuge on this side of the fence. We shall flush them and drive them back into the woods," Helluin explained.
The third part of an hour passed as they moved north with stealth, and sure enough, they came upon five deer warily grazing on the young growth at the tips of branches. They had fled the expected three furlongs, but were now only ten yards within the fence. By then, the wolves were surely waiting on the other side, though neither elleth could mark them.
Helluin bid Eryniel hold her position, fifteen yards southeast of the herd, and then she mantled herself in the full stealth of the Laiquendi, and vanished. Shocked, Eryniel tried to track her, but her sight was foiled. She could only set an arrow to her bowstring and wait, choosing for a target the trunk of the tree upon which the easternmost of the deer fed. After five minutes, she heard faintly, the stretching of a bowstring a couple dozen yards to her north. Helluin was preparing to shoot.
Now the steel bow of Númenor launched its arrows and a moment later, Eryniel released as well. Strange it seemed to her, to loose at deer with no intention of causing them harm. Three shafts struck wood almost at the same moment, and then one more. All had come from the east and embedded their heads in the trunks of the trees upon which the deer were feeding. Only the fawn was spared, for on instinct, t'would follow its mother.
Skittish by nature, the deer took flight almost as one, and a heartbeat later they leapt the fence heading west. A second heartbeat passed and then the wolves gave chase. Having utterly surprised the deer, the young doe was quickly dragged down and mauled as the rest of the herd bounded on through the woods in terror without a backward glance. They would escape to live another day. Helluin broke cover and moved to reclaim her arrows, and Eryniel marked that she had fired three at one draw and all had squarely struck their targets. In the distance, a wolf howled his pack's thanks.
Shortly later, after a glance at Anor's position, Helluin said, "I deem it time we return to the farm. The chicken coop should be dry by now, or nearly so. Let us finish with its renewal ere the chickens come to their evening's roost."
They returned late in the fifth hour past noon and found the coop dry. By the end of the sixth hour, new straw had been strewn 'cross the floor, especially 'neath the roosting bars, and placed into the nesting boxes. The water pots were refilled and some grain added to the feed trough. Last, Helluin carefully replaced the occupied nest boxes, hens, chicks, and all. When Helluin and Eryniel took their leave, they found the flock of hens gathered 'round the door as the sun sank into the west. The fowl bobbed their heads and clucked in thanks, and then flowed into the coup in a stream of multicolored feathers, beaks, and bony feet. The Noldo latched the door behind them that no predators might enter during the night, and then the two elleth went to the river to wash up ere returning to the cabin for the evening meal.
O'er their supper, for which Helluin had rolled thin circles of a fine, wheat flour dough, which she wrapped 'round portions of sautéed vegetables and slivers of meat and then steamed, Eryniel pondered her first day on the farm. She had seen some of the chores required to maintain the animals and plants, and a bit of the wider interactions 'twixt the Noldor and their wild neighbors. They were part of a whole and lived very close to the land.
In the Woodland Realm, her people traded for as much as they grew. There were plots amidst the forest where crops were sewn, and other resources that provided some commodities such as honey and nuts that they could harvest from the wild, but the population demanded more than they could gather or grow. Parties of Silvan Elves hunted, but her people raised little livestock. Wine, wool, vegetable fibers, and much else they got in trade from communities of Men that lived beyond the forest.
In Norðr-vestandóttir Bý, Helluin and Galadhon hunted, grew, or raised all they consumed. They had allied with the animals that roamed their landscape and treated those on the farm as lords would their subjects. 'Twas strange, unexpected, and yet wholly natural. The Silvan elleth had to wonder whether 'twas her folk or these Gelydh that had more thoroughly 'gotten back to nature'.
She spent two more days on the farm, milking cows, weeding the fields of wheat, rye, oats, and lucerne, and harvesting vegetables. The most terrifying experience had been smoking the hives and harvesting honey. The bees had been huge! They were bigger than her thumb and far bigger than any that she had seen aforetime in the forest. Yet after the hives were smoked, they placidly waddled o'er their combs, climbed onto their outstretched arms, but remained passive as the honey was harvested. The process had seemed as familiar to them as to Helluin, who had dipped her head and whispered a few words of thanks to the queen.
On 30 Lothron, Eryniel awkwardly mounted Cabethroch, and with good wishes from Helluin and Galadhon, began her return to Thranduil's Halls. The horse had seemed to grin and Helluin had cast a stern glance upon him ere he headed east at a trot towards the north-south track. As he and Eryniel came 'nigh the berry bramble, the Noldor regarded her, subdued green cloak o'er that strangely colored plate armor, bow and quiver at her shoulder, partially covered by her auburn hair, all bouncing uncomfortably on the stallion's back. She seemed to be a little off in matching the horse's gait.
"I reckon she shall be okay," Galadhon said, "at least to the Forest Gate."
"Aye," Helluin agreed, "Cabethroch shall ensure that, save perhaps for the soreness of her butt. I just wonder at her reception after her return. I suppose that shall depend on Thranduil's state of mind. Hopefully he shall set aside his hatred of me and keep watch for any activity indicating the reoccupation of Dol Guldur."
Galadhon nodded. He had ne'er met the Woodland King and wondered if his hatred was real, or simply a projection of Helluin's guilt.
Ere finally turning back towards the cabin, he muttered, "The enemy of my enemy need not be my friend, but Thranduil is certainly no friend of Sauron's."
Eight days later, Cabethroch returned and told them that whilst the elleth had much to learn of posting, she had reached the Forest Gate on 4 Nórui safe and sound. He had last seen her as she disappeared eastward down the Forest Path. His errand done, he had immediately turned for home. During their travels, they had met none. Helluin thanked him and then put the whole affair out of her mind. 'Twas 'naught that she could do about any of it now anyway.
The elleth of Greenwood returned home to Thranduil's Halls on the same day that Cabethroch reached Norðr-vestandóttir Bý. She had barely time to doff the new armor her patrol had been testing ere she was summoned to come before the king. Her debriefing was held in the same small meeting chamber in which her commander had proffered his report, but this time, she was met only by her lord. A guard admitted her at the door and announced her name.
"So what hast thou learnt of Suꝺriborg and the Mórgolodh, Sergeant of the Guard?" Thranduil asked, leaning forward in his chair to study his subject closely.
The Silvan elleth drew a steadying breath and pronounced her findings in full detail, unmindful of the time required, for she deemed the information of value and her king ne'er sought to hasten the telling. Indeed, he seemed to soak up her words, occasionally smiling, or at other times grimacing. At her recounting of the prowess of the Noldor he subtly nodded, whilst at her announcement of the possibility of the search for the Ring and the occupancy of Dol Guldur being renewed someday, he only raised a brow.
"My lord king, after presenting myself as Eryniel, daughter of Filegiá, the Mórgolodh related some un-credible accounts of her past opposition of the Dark Lord and his servants and suggested that I ask after her mission to Dol Guldur in 1002," she said. "I had some doubts about her forays against the Enemy, his Nine, and her history in standing against them."
"Doubt not, sergeant," Thranduil said, "for no greater foe does Sauron have upon the Mortal Shores than Helluin Maeg-móremenel. She hath challenged and vexed him for two Ages and that is all thou needs to know. Of 1002, I shall not speak."
The sergeant dipped her head and said, "I deem my report complete, my king, for I can recall 'naught more to add."
"Then I rejoice in thy safe return and bid thee take food and some rest after thy long journey. I congratulate thee and thank thee for thy tidings. Well done, Sergeant Tauriel¹, daughter of Filegiá," the king said with a smile, and then dismissed her from his presence. ¹(Tauriel, Forest Daughter = taur(great forest) + ield(daughter) The final –ld becomes –l at the end of proper nouns. Eryniel and Tauriel are close enough in meaning to be equivalent without speaking a detectable lie. Sindarin)
Now the years passed in the Vale of Anduin. In 2022, Galadhon retired his stallion Erynroch to a dotage of ease on the farm. After providing two decades' service, Álfrhestr appeared unchanged from 2003 when he and Helluin had first met. It seemed that at least one of Galadriel's predictions would come true.
In 2027, and again in 2035, companies of Yrch fled the Hithaeglir and crossed the river. The story was e'er the same, a handful of dozens seeking to better their lot whilst escaping possible service to Sauron or one of his wraiths. By the 2030s, some of these Yrch were two generations removed from the crushing defeat of Angmar in 1975 and held 'naught but ill impressions of conscription, armies, and greater causes. They had ne'er known the Witch King, and Sauron was a legend from ancient history, well 'nigh a myth. So too was the Ghâshgûl.
On both occasions, the invaders crossed Anduin, warily marched inland, and were met by Helluin and Galadhon who destroyed them to a one. In 2027, Helluin won her wager when the two Noldor slew seventeen whilst manufacturing the appearance of a mass defection. They found the last thirty-one dead from internecine fighting after the leader, presuming rebellion amidst his ranks, set faction upon faction and was assassinated at the last by his mortally wounded lieutenant.
Having proved her point, Helluin was done with her 'practical study of Orkish behavior', and when the next company came in 2035, she stalked them through the morn with her bow 'til half lay dead, then appeared before them in a blaze of Light, screaming 'Ghâsh-gijak-ishi' and 'Draut-gijak-ishi' as she spun into their midst wielding Anguirél and the Sarchram. Galadhon had attacked their left flank and together, the Noldor slaughtered them in the sixth part of an hour. They were home by noon for their midday meal.
During those years, Helluin's friend Vorondil son of Pelendur, the second Steward of Gondor to serve King Eärnil II, passed from Arda in 2029. His son, Mardil, the serious young lord that Helluin had 'nigh run down in the hallway of the Royal Apartments whilst he perambulated with his mother, Lady Bellwen, succeeded his father as steward of the realm. He was the third hereditary steward of the House of Húrin, and the second to bear the Horn of Gondor.
In the same year that Helluin and Galadhon slaughtered the third company of Yrch in Nýr Vera, Thorin I, the great-grandson of Durin VI, was born in Erebor. Thráin I had an heir, and the folk that had fled Khazad-dûm saw that the continuity of the lordship of the House of Durin would continue for another generation in ruling the Longbeards. Thorin I would be Lord of the Lonely Mountain for a century.
In 2043, word came from Lothlórien telling that King Eärnil II, the thirty-second King of Gondor, had laid down his life and his son, Prince Eärnur had succeeded him. Helluin felt mixed emotions at that tiding, recalling the prince's formidable prowess at arms, but also his vigorous pursuit of battlefield glory in emulation of his father's great victory at the Battle of the Camp. Where his father had done what was necessary as a general and a king, his heir sought to outdo what his father had achieved. He was now five score and fifteen years of age and had already failed to match his father in a most important aspect; Eärnil II had been forty-five years old when his son and heir had been born. Eärnur was still childless. The House of Anárion had no heir.
Alas, 'twas long after word came to the Golden Wood of King Eärnil's passing that the Witch King issued his first challenge to the newly crowned King Eärnur. The messenger they sent to Norðr-vestandóttir Bý knew 'naught of it. Helluin learnt of it only much later, and by then 'twas far too late to amend the subsequent tragedy.
But ere that, after the Yrch incursion of 2035, it seemed that the Vale of Anduin knew a quarter century of peace. No further incursions came from the Hithaeglir, and no unusual activity was reported in Mirkwood by Aiwendil's friends or Thranduil's folk during that time. By 2045, Helluin's heart was filled with foreboding, wondering when the other shoe would drop.
That disaster came early in 2050, when the Lord of the Nazgûl again challenged King Eärnur to personal combat. For the second time in a decade, a vulture flew in from the east to alight in the Court of the Tree. The sun was bright and the air crisp and cold, for e'er aforetime had the Witch King favored winter's chill. This time, the black robed guards of the court knew what the vulture's arrival portended. They speared the carrion fowl and examined its spitted carcass, finding again that its beak had been bolted shut, thus to hold fast a missive from the Lord of Minas Morgul.
With the butt spike of his spear, the guard crushed the vulture's skull and freed the message. Scrawled in a spidery hand on poorly cured Orc-skin parchment was the demand, "Deliver forthwith to his craven majesty Eärnur son of Eärnil". 'Twas indeed delivered forthwith to King Eärnil.
The king took the message and unfolded it, and there read, "Though I deem thy spine as absent as thy seed, I again offer thee the boon of an opportunity to redress thy prior shame upon the field of Angmar, or to at least stand fast and die as a Man upon my sword. Fail me not again, little king."
Prideful as he was at heart, Eärnur was enraged beyond all reason. None of the counselors, nor even Steward Mardil could restrain him, though not for lack of trying. Mardil plead with his lord to at least wait the time t'would require to summon Helluin, the one knight who had put the Witch King to flight, to offer counsel, but Eärnur would hear none of it. What she had done, he deemed that he could do just as well, doughty Dúnadan that he was. Glorfindel's prophecy was forgotten as he crumpled the message and flung it into the hearth with curses, and then he prepared for battle.
In the morn on the morrow, King Eärnur rode east with an escort of his six most trusted knights. They were last seen by Rangers as they entered Imlad Morgul. None of them were e'er seen again and by the next day, all were presumed dead. Soon, the people despaired of the king's survival and plans for the succession were begun.
When three seasons had passed and no acceptable claimant of the blood royal could be found amongst the nobility of the Southern Dúnedain, the council of Minas Tirith voted to give Steward Mardil rule of the realm, to hold in the king's stead, "'til the king return again." Yet as the years passed, the hope engendered in that wording faded and the stewards wielded the power of the throne in increasingly plenary fashion.
At the inauguration of his new status as Ruling Steward of Gondor, a golden knob was affixed to the end of the steward's white rod of office. Then the banner of sable bearing the White Tree and Seven Stars of the Anárioni was hauled down and the plain white banner of the stewards was hoisted atop Calimehtar's tower. In the Rath Dínen, the winged Crown of Gondor rested where the lost King Eärnur had left it, in the shriveled hands of his father King Eärnil. T'would bide its time there for a thousand years.
Once she learnt of Eärnur's disappearance, Helluin was wroth. Those tidings came to her in 2051, again by way of a messenger from Lothlórien.
"I would have ridden to Minas Tirith at once and hatched a plot with the king and the steward to destroy that foul creature for all time," she claimed to Galadhon through gritted teeth. "In Eärnur's armor I could have ridden to Minas Morgul, and so disguised, engaged that wretched ghost in the combat it craved 'til the opportunity appeared when I could send Tindomul's fëa to the Void with the Sarchram, just as I should have done in Pelargir two Ages ago. I chaff at the lost opportunity."
"I wonder if Eärnur would have agreed to thee usurping the combat that would have redressed his shame in Angmar and gifted him his best chance to become a hero greater than his father," Galadhon had mused.
"And so the last King of Gondor fell, seeking to be a greater king than his sire," Helluin had bitterly replied, "just like the fallen Kings of Númenor."
Bad as the lore of the Gondorim was regarding their lost king, the truth was far darker still.
When he had learnt that Prince Eärnur had succeeded his father to the throne of Gondor, Sauron Gorthaur had wafted into Minas Morgul as a noisome air, taking a brief respite from an ongoing project in real estate development. With the destruction of Sheol, the Dark Lord had required a new refuge in Rhûn. T'would be modest in comparison to Skator, but he had been engaged in its construction since shortly after his servants had taken Isildur's city. On the southern shore of the Sea of Rhûn now rose a tower encircled by a massive wall, upon which slaves of the east sweated and bled, raising it e'er higher and stronger for their god and master.
Now Sauron wore a new suit of meat, indiscriminately torn from the bodies of Men and Yrch, and he tarried in Dushgoi¹ to provide inspiration to the lord of his Nine. ¹(Dushgoi, Minas Morgul Orkish)
"Eärnur is weak within, just as his arm is strong," Sauron told his chief lieutenant, "and thou shalt defeat him more easily than thou did Arvedui in the north. One day, thou shalt command the army that shall destroy Gondor, just as thou did in Arnor."
"T'will be my pleasure to destroy Eärnur," Tindomul said, "he is weak indeed. In a few years, I shall sit upon the thrones of Isildur and Anárion."
Sauron regarded his wraith, thinking, thou need not two thrones for one butt and I wager it shall be more than a few years. Still, I applaud thine ambition.
"Murazor, I said not that thou should destroy Eärnur, only that thou should defeat him," Sauron clarified in that all too reasonable tone of voice that promised excruciating punishments should there be any mistake. "Bring the last King of Gondor to me alive."
"As thou command, my master," Tindomul said, for what else could he do?
So Tindomul sent his challenge, rich with insults, denigrating the new king even as he bid him meet to contest with steel as opposing warriors should. In 2043, the Nazgûl's first challenge was not answered.
"Let Eärnur fester for a few years and then repeat thy challenge," Sauron commanded his wraith, "for he shall not have forgotten the first, or his flight before thee in Angmar."
In 2050, Tindomul sent a second time to Minas Tirith, this time harshly mocking, as with words he belittled Eärnur's precious reputation and self-esteem that were in his own estimation, wholly based on his prowess as a warrior. And this time, the Ringwraith's wiles were rewarded. The king came forth to Minas Morgul with only a guard of a half-dozen knights. He obviously had no knowledge of who the wraith had been. His lore telling of what the wraith was had proved just as lacking.
By the time that Helluin had slain him on the quay of Pelargir in S.A. 2003, Prince Tindomul, the second son of Tar-Ciryatan, had been the preeminent swordsman of his generation and none in Númenor could best him. He came alone and on foot to the bridge o'er the Morgulduin and there awaited his challengers. Fear flowed from the Nazgûl and the Men of Gondor did well to choke back their horror and face him in combat.
When the first knight charged him with lowered lance, the wraith simply spun away to the side of the horse opposite the weapon and hewed the knight's hip as he rode past, slicing 'twixt his cuisse and tasset and cutting him to the bone. The hapless rider fell into the accursed stream, and already light-headed from loss of blood, drowned in two feet of water.
Eärnur and his remaining five knights dismounted to match Tindomul afoot. There they contested with swords and the wraith slew the knights one after another with a grace and ferocity that the king had only seen once aforetime, when Helluin had engaged the Men of Khand outside the Nargil Pass.
Finally, the king was left alone to face the Nazgûl and grimly he gripped the hilt of his sword. He marked the rents in his enemy's black cloak where his Men's weapons had bitten, on 'naught, for no blade forged of plain steel could harm one who was no longer part of the physical plane. So the two lords of the Dúnedain met at last, sword against sword, and took each others' measure. The duel lasted all of two minutes ere Tindomul disarmed the king and slammed the pommel of his sword against Eärnur's temple, knocking him out cold. Then with an unearthly shriek, the Ringwraith called forth the corps of Yrch who lay hidden in the surrounding landscape and they captured the horses, took the bodies of the fallen knights for feasting, and carried off the last King of Gondor to the Tower of Black Sorcery.
Eärnur regained consciousness, he knew not how much later, for utter darkness surrounded him. 'Twas cold and he realized that he was naked, suspended upright on tip-toe by manacles of steel at his wrists, ankles, and neck. Bare stone lay against his back and 'neath his feet, and his head still spun from the blow to his temple. All 'round was silence and he sensed none 'nigh. Then the sudden nausea of a concussion came upon him and he heaved in his chains. Ere he fell unconscious again, he wondered what fate he had been delivered to and how he might escape it. 'Twas some time ere he woke again, for his new master had some changes to make.
In Norðr-vestandóttir Bý, a furious Helluin was slow to cool of her wrath. In 2051, shortly after hearing of Eärnur's disappearance, she invited the wolf pack south in the spring and they crossed the wide stream into Hafrland, the Goatland to which Norðr-vestandóttir had once sent the goats of old Vera. There the Noldo spent a season shooting the now wild goats when the pack's luck in the hunt was poor. Eventually though, the billies and nannies grew wary and fled the rumor of them, and so they crossed the stream back to the north. They parted in greater friendship, but Helluin's bloodlust was not sated, yet in the coming decade, things would begin looking up.
In 2053, Galadhon summoned Helluin from the fields with urgency and in the yard before the cabin they met a hawk that bore tidings of foes.
Tuu gups Urchs, siks 'n siks seened tirty leegs sunwrd. Run treelnd tu rivrwrd last sun¹, he cried out urgently. ¹(Two groups of Yrch numbering a half-dozen each had been spotted 'nigh thirty leagues south. They had come west from the forest the day past.)
He had an atrocious accent, but 'twas news they had yearned to hear for two score and five years.
After offering their thanks to the hawk, Helluin and Galadhon prepared to ride. Though he still survived after o'er fifty years, Álfrhestr was no longer game for a long journey made in haste. Helluin rode Herǫr¹, a four-year-old chestnut mare with a white blaze and white socks on her hind pasterns. Erynroch had passed away o'er a score years ago and so Galadhon rode a spirited dun stallion named Bóndihestr² who was then six years old. ¹(Herǫr, War-arrow Old Norse) ²(Bóndihestr, Farmer's Stallion = bóndi(farmer) + hestr(stallion) Old Norse)
They set out on the north-south track. By then, seventy-six years had passed since King Frumgar had moved the Éothéod north and because of Dol Guldur, few had ridden south even in those days. The trail was o'ergrown and in places lost, but they continued on, finding their own path when necessary though it made their ride slower. Still, Helluin and Galadhon covered the miles with what haste they could muster and on the fourth day, they slowed seeking tracks and hoping they would cross the Yrch's trail.
Now whilst they sought for footprints and evidence of the destructive nature of the Yrch, they marked a thin column of smoke rising a couple miles to the east. This, they deemed, was likely the home of some settler, and they wondered if an isolated farming family had come 'neath an attack. Hoping to hear tidings of their prey and offer aid if needed, they approached the homestead in the late afternoon.
Upon arriving, they saw a dirt path leading to a fenced yard with a cabin and barn, surrounded by pastures and tilled fields where crops grew and bees buzzed amidst wildflowers. To one side of the cabin grew a garden of vegetables. A horse and several ponies lingered in the company of milk cows and sheep, all close by the barn. 'Twas all quite familiar in appearance, much the same as Norðr-vestandóttir Bý, save that 'twas sized as a single-family holding. Three score yards east beyond the fence, six posts stood Man high, each topped with the hewn off head of an Orch. A sniff of the air revealed that they were relatively fresh. Helluin nodded in approval, and when they came to the gate in the fence, she called out to the homesteader.
"Hail! Hail! Are any at home?"
After a short pause, an imposing Man came to the door of the shed, set down a milk pail, and then strode forth 'cross the yard towards them. He was recognizably of the kindred of Berlun and Grinda, a latter-day skin changer, black-haired, dark-eyed, with a full beard and a confident manner. The settler stood a hand's width taller and either of the Elves and was probably double Helluin's weight, roped in muscles. When he reached his side of the gate, he looked them o'er with a critical glance evincing neither fear, nor hostility. He simply seemed curious.
"Elves ye are," he said, "and few of your kind have e'er been seen in these lands. What brings ye hither now?"
"I am Helluin and my companion is Galadhon. We have come thirty leagues south from our farm, seeking for two companies of Orcs of whom we had heard. Few of their kind have we seen in these lands for many years, and so we sought to foil whatsoe'er mischief they intended." Here she case a glance back to the posts, and with a grin added, "Though t'would seem we are late come for this company at least."
The Man regarded her and a grin slowly shaped his lips.
"'Tis as thou say, Elf-Helluin. I caught these troubling my cows yesternight and turned them into a warning to others of their kind," he said. "I could think of no other use for them."
"Little other use is there for such. Not even can their bodies be used to enrich the land, for 'naught grows upon their graves," Helluin agreed.
"Said they 'aught of interest ere meeting their fate?" Galadhon asked.
"Save for screams and curses, nay, they said 'naught," the Man recalled. "What could they have said?"
"We hoped to learn whence they came and whyfor," Helluin answered.
The Man nodded, but had no more to add. He had wrenched off their heads first and not deigned to ask question after.
"Two companies, thou said. These last came from the east. Shall another company be forthcoming?" he asked.
"Perhaps, unless their route passed thy homestead by," she answered.
"I have marked neither hide nor hair of any others as yet," he said. Then, as if recalling some social grace, added, "I am Bartan son of Gortan."
"Well met, Bartan," said Galadhon. "I hope thou art troubled no further."
The Man nodded in agreement and asked, "Whither now, Helluin and Galadhon? Shall ye seek after this second company?"
"Indeed so, and having seen no signs to the north, we shall continue south a ways in hope of finding tracks," Helluin answered.
"Then I wish ye well in your hunt," Bartan said. "If ye need aid or a roof 'neath which to rest, just ask. Now I must finish the evening milking or my ladies shall become moody."
With that, they bid each other a fair night and Helluin and Galadhon rode back to the north-south track. They turned south, resuming their search in the gloaming, for both they and the Yrch saw well at night. Even so, they were seeking tell tale signs of the passage of six foes in the dark whilst the Yrch cared 'naught for whether they left tracks for others.
The Noldor found no signs of the passage of any in the first mile south after leaving Bartan's farm. Yet as had happened aforetime, 'twas the whispers of the olvar that alerted them to the presence of others. The night breeze brought a growing sensation of wariness and fear, and softly, the tall grass intimated, evil comes, evil on two legs.
Having received that warning, Helluin and Galadhon urged Herǫr and Bóndihestr forward at a walk. Carefully they surveyed the grass, seeking for the trampling and crushing so typical of the careless indifference of the Yrch. For another two thirds of an hour they continued, 'til after a mile and a half, they saw just that crumpling of the grass that they had expected crossing the north-south track. The two Noldor dismounted and sought east and west for even a single footprint to confirm the direction of their quarry's march. After another five minutes, they found what they sought, the partial print where an iron-soled shoe had slipped at the edge of a patch of mud. The Yrch were heading east towards Anduin.
Here we must go forward afoot, Herǫr, Helluin told her horse. I bid thee and Bóndihestr await us here, but keep watch. Foes may be 'nigh. Flee to Bartan's farm if ye must.
The mare nodded, saying, we shall await ye, though now I am unsettled. Pray take care and we shall look to your return. Worst comes to worst, seek us with Bartan.
Helluin nodded, slung her quiver, and shouldered her bow. Galadhon checked his sword and club and then they walked west into the grass.
The trail was easy enough to follow, for the Yrch had taken no care to cover their tracks and they could pursue them swiftly. The Noldor heard 'naught of their prey as yet, suggesting that they were miles ahead. Being nighttime, Helluin and Galadhon expected that the Yrch would march so long as darkness lasted, but would retreat to some hole or shadow to hide themselves in at the coming of dawn. They would be easier to find and safer to approach ere daybreak. The Yrch would build no fires, nor raise any recognizable shelter by day. T'would be all too easy to stumble upon their camp at unawares and when their stealth would be greatest, simply because they would be still and silent in sleep.
Helluin and Galadhon went forward swift as the wind but silent as the moonlight, and as the hours of the night passed, they continued to follow the trail, hearing 'naught and seeing no sign that they were drawing closer. Their quarry might well be a night's march ahead, for Bartan had slaughtered the other party the previous night. Still, they could not but carry on.
Dawn came to the Vale of Anduin, tinting the undersides of a few clouds with a bloody red hue that the Noldor marked with some trepidation. Both hoped that 'twas no portent of murder done in the night, as if the Yrch had come upon some helpless innocents and slaughtered them for sport and a meal. The trail led on, clearer now with the daylight, the trampling of the grass leading onward into the distance. With that proof that they were not yet close to their prey, Helluin and Galadhon continued on with haste.
An hour passed and then a second. Eight more miles they had covered to add to the twenty-eight they had made during the hours of darkness, and they reckoned the east bank of the river lay no more than a league ahead. Yet they had marked the ominous portent of vultures circling o'erhead another mile to the west and their fears of some fell deed done in the night grew.
Now Helluin went forward with her bow unslung and Galadhon carried his club in his left hand. They continued to jog forward, but wary now, expecting combat. They did not expect to come upon the aftermath of a battle, or the carcasses of the Yrch strewn on the ground, legs and arms savagely bitten and throats torn out.
"T'would seem we hunted not alone this night," Galadhon said after they had stopped to take the measure of the destruction.
"Nay, we did not," Helluin agreed.
She stooped to examine the nearest corpse, seeing its throat ripped open, the backs of its thighs torn apart by many bites, and the wrist of its sword hand chewed well 'nigh free of the lower arm.
"This one died, hamstrung and disarmed by powerful teeth, but 'tis not the work of Bartan or his kin," she observed.
She stood and gazed 'round as a vulture alit on the furthest carcass and began pulling free a strip of meat. The carrion fowl swallowed it down, balked, and then retched it back up again, wavering a moment on its feet ere recovering itself and taking flight with a croak of disgust.
"I wager the hunting pack fed no better and remained hungry. I reckon we should return to the horses with haste. We shall learn 'naught here," she said, shaking her head in disappointment.
In the daylight, and with no need to find the trail, Helluin and Galadhon retraced their steps to the north-south track at a dead run. They covered the twelve leagues and arrived at the start of the second hour after noon to find a standoff in progress. With a groan, Helluin set an arrow to the string of her bow and Galadhon drew both his sword and club, and then they charged through the ring of hunters to join their mounts.
Oh thank the Valar, said Herǫr with a sigh of relief, we thought ye would ne'er arrive in time and find only our gnawed bones upon your return. Beside her, Bóndihestr nodded in agreement.
We had to come three dozen miles each way, Helluin said. Still, ye have my apologies.
Then she tuned to regard the fourteen wolves that were lounging in a circle 'round the horses. After marking the pack alpha, she traded glances and offered a greeting.
Well met, grey hunter. These horses are 'neath our protection and we thank ye for not attacking them, she said.
Greetings, bright ones. They claimed as much and so we waited to learn the truth, yay or nay, for with thy kindred, we have no quarrel.
Helluin dipped her head in appreciation of their forbearance and asked, Would ye know of six Yrch slain thirty-six miles to the west? We had been tracking them since yesternight.
Aye, we slew them in the last hour ere dawn. We know their kind, shifty, bereft of honor, and needlessly cruel. These lands are our range and we suffer no others to hunt within its bounds. Alas, they were unfit for eating.
To this, Helluin nodded in understanding, for not even the vulture could feast on their flesh.
All the more then do I thank thee for waiting on the horses if hunger still afflicts thee. Aforetime, I have aided the pack living 'nigh my home when the hunting has been poor. Perhaps we can find game for thy pack in these lands, for we carry our own trail rations.
At this, the alpha regarded Helluin with a critical glance and asked, Dost thou dwell to the north, beyond Hafrland?
Indeed so, since 2008 we have farmed Norðr-vestandóttir Bý.
The wolf nodded to this and said, the pack there is distant kin to my pack and we have long known of the treaty 'twixt our people and the farmers. A similar arrangement we have kept with Bartan and his sires for many generations. We hunt not east of the north-south track. 'Twas a small concession, he intimated, for of old, those lands were subject to the rule of Borg Fjōlkyngi¹ and to come thither meant conscription. ¹(Borg Fjōlkyngi, Tower of Sorcery = borg(tower, castle) + fjōlkyngi(sorcery, black art) aka Dol Guldur Old Norse)
All who come thither lose their freedom and become thralls, Helluin said, and the wolf nodded in agreement as a low growl came from his throat. When we learnt that Yrch had come from the forest, we feared they may have come from Borg Fjōlkyngi and that 'twas occupied again.
If they did so, we know it not, he said. Those we slew claimed 'naught to give us pause.
Dead Orcs tell no tales and the only good Orc is a dead Orc, Helluin said, and the wolf nodded in agreement.
If we learn 'aught of Borg Fjōlkyngi, we shall send word by way of our kin to the north and ye shall hear of it at Norðr-vestandóttir Bý, he said.
My thanks, grey hunter, Helluin said. As it seems our errand in these lands is done, allow us to shoot something for thy pack in appreciation for slaying the Yrch. I wager Bartan will not seek to stay us as he offered his aid aforetime.
It seemed the wolf drew the corners of his lips up in a grin and said, we thank thee, bright one. Yet we would not stay thee from home needlessly. We shall be glad for thine effort through the remainder of this day. If the hunt goes well, then we shall eat. If not, then the morrow shall be another day to hunt.
Then we shall be away to seek for game. If thou continue to hunt this day, pray let one of thine remain to receive our tidings ere dusk.
I shall do so. Good luck in thy hunt, bright one.
We shall return. Again, thou hast our thanks, grey hunter.
The alpha bid a young female of his pack to remain with the horses and await Helluin and Galadhon's return. Herǫr and Bóndihestr were nervous about her presence at first; despite Helluin's reassurance that the wolves now meant them no harm and indeed the young wolf might be a valuable sentry against other potential foes, she being able to call on the pack for aid. The horses accepted her reasoning as the young wolf lounged on the ground with her tongue dangling from her mouth. The rest of the wolves loped off to the northwest to continue hunting.
"So we are to hunt on behalf of the wolf pack?" Galadhon asked, just to be sure.
"Aye, as thanks for awaiting our return rather than attacking the horses immediately, and for slaughtering the Yrch," Helluin said.
"So they could not eat what they killed, and killed not what they could eat," he said. "They are quite noble and far different from most of the wolves I recall in Beleriand."
"I agree. In the past century, all the grey wolves I have met were committed to living free. The first of these had abandoned Angmar in the winter of 1974-5. Ere that, I had not met any since Beinvír and I rescued a wolf and her cub from hunters in the Enedwaith. That was in an Age before. I had not really given thought to them since, but perhaps they are changing."
"Or recovering their natural habit, and who could blame them?" Galadhon reasoned. "They are far better off, I reckon."
"As do I. Come, meldir nín, let us hunt."
'Twas a couple hours ere the Noldor found a shallow, muddy depression in a hollow amidst the tall grass. Many tracks radiated from it, milling as if to enlarge it by trampling.
"Boar wallow," Galadhon muttered, and received a nod of agreement from Helluin.
"Some of the ground 'round this brush has been rooted through and bark has been rubbed from these saplings," she said after examining a copse of taller growth.
"The freshest tracks converge and lead east," Galadhon declared.
Through the fourth hour past noon, Helluin and Galadhon trailed the wild swine. The tracks meandered much, some of the boars branching off, only to rejoin later. Finally, they approached a more extensive bush land of scrubby shrubs, copses of low trees, and a few taller that traced a lazy watercourse heading west. They reckoned that for two hours of tracking, they had come not even two miles.
The Noldor crossed the last couple of furlongs in stealth, careful to approach from downwind. They knew well the acuity of those animals' ears and noses. At last, they could hear the grunting of the sows, some higher in pitch attesting to juveniles. 'Twas a matriarchal sounder, a group of some two dozen sows in a wide range of ages and their young. Thus far there were no calls of alarm.
Now the hunters remained crouched and unmoving at the verge of the brush. Eventually they were able to mark the movements of individual animals, though the plant cover did not allow for any accurate count of their numbers. In this, the dark, coarse fur of the creatures blended in well with the shadows, bare earth, and tree bark.
Helluin held up a single finger, but Galadhon replied by holding up one and then a second with a slight wiggle, intending to take one for certain and possibly a second if chance favored them. Helluin nodded in acceptance of his intentions and they shared a grin. Then she drew an arrow from her quiver, set it to her bowstring, and concentrated on the least obstructed target.
Slowly and silently, the Noldo rose from her crouch 'til she could take a comfortable stance for shooting. The suids marked her not by sight, but several perked up their ears at the soft sound of the bowstring stretching as she drew. Then she released the arrow and it slammed into a sow that stood broadside to her, striking low, just behind its shoulder, and dropping it immediately. The power of the Númenórean bow had driven the broadhead arrow straight through the sow's heart so that the head broke the pelt on the animal's far side. Helluin immediately nocked a second arrow.
Then came the cacophony of alarm calls, the milling and thrashing amidst the bramble, and the panic of the animals that still smelt and heard 'naught, nor knew the source of their danger. Needing to drive them hence so that they could recover their kill, Helluin and Galadhon rose and shouted, waving their arms and jumping in the air. The sounder broke and its individual animals scuttled from the undergrowth, scattering in various directions. Helluin shot a second sow and then nocked a third arrow as a precaution. Only the old matriarch turned towards the hunters and lowered her head. Helluin drew and held her eye at arrow point as she emitted a growing glow of Light. That proved too unnerving and the leader of the sounder withdrew, following her kith and kin east.
Having now two carcasses totaling some three hundred and fifty pounds to move, Helluin and Galadhon dragged the carcasses free of the brush and out into the grassland. Then, Helluin sat sentry o'er their kills as Galadhon hastened west to the north-south track to summon the horses.
She waited the half part of an hour and at the fifth hour past noon, Galadhon returned riding Bóndihestr with Herǫr following close behind.
At Galadhon's tidings, the young wolf howled for the pack and they shall await us at the road, Herǫr said.
Helluin nodded her thanks to the mare and the Elves began tying the sows behind the horses. They bound them by their hind legs and dragged them the mile and three-quarters back to the north-south track. There they found the fourteen hunters waiting in eager anticipation. They hauled the carcasses a dozen yards west of the road to honor the wolves' treaty with Bartan ere untying the ropes and leaving them for the pack.
Supper is served, my friends, Helluin announced with a grand flourish as Galadhon coiled the ropes. The alpha wolf grinned.
My, my, ye have quite outdone yourselves, he praised. It hath been long since we were able to bring down two such, as they favor the lands 'nigh the forest whither they repair in winter. Ye have our sincere thanks…friends.
'Twas our pleasure and we are glad to provide ye delicacies from east of the road, Helluin said. Fair dining to thee and thy pack, grey hunter. We shall take our leave.
Safe travels, bright ones, the wolf said. Go with our thanks. Should we learn 'aught of Borg Fjōlkyngi, we shall send word.
Helluin and Galadhon rode north, glad to have found new allies, but they had learnt 'naught of the errand of the Yrch, nor whence they had come, for all had been slain ere they had met them. They could only call their mission an incomplete success. At least the Yrch were dead.
Time continued to pass. The 2050s came and went as life continued on the farm. No calls of alarm came from the wolves, from Aiwendil's friends, or from the olvar. Yet not all could remain peaceful indefinitely. The year 2060 was still young when a lone wolf came to the cabin and howled a greeting.
Straightaway, Helluin and Galadhon came out into the chill predawn light. The wolf sat alone two fathoms from the door and regarded them with a cocked head and a serious expression. 'Twas the first time one of his folk had crossed the fence in all the years the Noldor had dwelt on the farm. That winter had not been unusually harsh, but perhaps some other misfortune had befallen his kin.
Is all well with thy pack, grey hunter? Helluin asked. Has the winter brought misfortune?
All is well. Winter is as it hath e'er been, bright one, yet I have reason for breaking the treaty. Word has come from the south.
Alarmed now, the two Noldor hearkened with their full attention.
Pray tell us what thou hast heard, Helluin said.
Two days past, a company of six Orcs came to the territory of our southern kin. Five were slain and the last taken captive. They bit through his legs then dragged him into the shade of a copse 'nigh the riverbank and have guarded him there since. The leader bids thee make haste.
Thou hast our thanks for thy timely tidings, friend, Helluin said, we shall ride at once.
She and Galadhon bowed their heads to the wolf and he dipped his in return, then they watched as he loped off down the river trail, heading west towards the mill. Not the half part of an hour passed ere they were galloping south on the north-south track. They recalled the way, thirty-one leagues, and the ride took two days. When they came to the place they remembered, they turned off the track heading west towards Anduin. Another twelve leagues lay ahead.
Continue so long as thou can, Herǫr, Helluin told the mare, for they had already spent most of the past two days riding at a gallop. Time is of the essence.
We shall do so, though I wager we shall need rest ere reaching the river, she replied, breathless and speaking for Bóndihestr as well.
They had come two leagues west when they found a stream 'neath a skin of ice. There the horses slowed and finally stood, panting. Helluin and Galadhon dismounted and broke the ice with their boots, allowing their mounts to drink.
Our thanks for your haste these last days, my friends. We shall continue afoot through the night. Pray take some rest and then follow as ye can, she told their mounts. The horses bobbed their heads in agreement and cropped some grass. Later, they took turns dozing standing upright.
Now the two Noldor ran, fleet-footed o'er the frozen ground, emitting a dim ril of Light to illuminate their trail. Mile after mile they covered without pause, and the hours of darkness passed with Ithil's westering crescent. In the fifth hour after leaving the north-south track, they came to the bank of Anduin, and there Helluin blazed with the Light of Aman announcing their presence. From another half-mile south, wolf howls answered.
They made a final dash south down the bank 'til the howls were but a few yards east, coming from a copse of trees beside a small tributary's confluence with the river. There they found the pack sitting or pacing 'round a body lying on its side 'neath the trees. For a moment, it seemed the prisoner was already dead, but then he spat and cursed the 'hounds of Angmar'.
Our thanks for thy tidings and for preserving this captive, grey hunter, Helluin said, actually offering the alpha a bow.
'Twas our pleasure and we are glad to provide ye delicacies from east of the road, he said, grinning as he offered her the same words she had spoken to him seven years aforetime.
When they stood beside the Orch, both Helluin and Galadhon could smell the gangrene that had turned his legs a swollen, seeping, lesion covered black. With a boot heel, Helluin rolled him onto his back. The Orch peered at her through bleary eyes and then recoiled in horror. She constrained him when he met her glance and began by asking the same of him as she had of Âthtram whom she had captured in Imlad Morgul.
Flas, glûr! Shûmb bugud!¹ Helluin demanded, silently and directly to his mind. ¹(Flas, glûr! Shûmb bugud!, Speak, prisoner! Tell name! Orkish)
Narbugud, narbugud¹, he whined just as silently in reply. ¹(Narbugud, No name = nar-(no) + bugud(name) Orkish)
Rather than assuming evasion, Helluin felt sick that this creature of the Shadow had ne'er even warranted a name. It had not even claimed to be 'snaga' as had the slaves of Nurn.
Malghâra¹? she demanded. ¹(Malghâra, Where from? = mal(where?) + -ghâra(from) Orkish)
At first, he sniveled as if in great fear, and then he answered, Pulgoruz¹. ¹(Pulgoruz, Forest Orkish)
Helluin blinked to release him, then turned to Galadhon and said, "Some great fear lay upon him when he mentioned having come from the forest. He hath answered thus far, yet I deem his fear itself most telling. I shall not spend precious time trading speech when I can learn his truths directly."
The ellon nodded and said, "I wager thy forced confrontation of his fears may undo him."
"He is not long for this world in any case," Helluin answered, "and we should learn 'aught we can whilst we can. Perhaps death shall be a mercy compared to his suffering."
The Orch was whimpering and shaking. Being interrogated thus in silence by one who could inhabit his mind recalled the cruel treatment of his master, a creature of Darkness for whom he had no name. He knew he could withhold 'naught and his only grace was that he knew so little. The rest was hidden behind a wall of fire that would drive him mad should he approach it, yet much of what he did was commanded from behind that wall, felt as a compulsion, and he knew not why.
Helluin captured the Orc's eyes, and at once, he found he could not look away. He could not even move. 'Twas terrifying and yet familiar, for another had done the same. Then she was in his mind, sifting and digging through his thoughts and memories as one prospecting amidst a dung heap, tossing away such scraps as held no interest. What she flung aside was lost, his treasured memories of good times, the raping of children, the sodomy of animals, the torturing of captives, the slaughtering of rivals, the feasting on still-warm flesh, a few successful plots that had advanced his position, and a few failed plots that had left him here. Deeper she went and to his horror, she perceived and approached the wall of fire.
Unlike himself, she showed no fear of it. 'Twas akin to what she surrounded herself with on the ethereal plane, the very same flames with which she had fenced out the Eye of Sauron himself since S.A. 1600. She knew it well, and she knew how to o'erpower it.
The Orc saw her in his mind, but not as she appeared to his diseased eyes, an Elvish warrior encased in black armor of some antique style. Before the wall of fire she stood as a phosphor, a figure incandescent, too bright to long gaze upon. In one hand, she bore a Sword of Light, and in the other, a Ring just as bright. Coronae of azure blazed in tendrils from her eyes and it seemed the flames diminished before her. Then she spoke an incantation in a tongue foreign to his ears.
"Tulukhanuruš! Ibrîgas!¹" she chanted, and there came a flash of mingled silver and gold after which he saw no more. Only could he hear the voices hidden aforetime from his memory in his past. ¹(Tulukhanuruš! Ibrîgas! Golden fire! Silver heat! = tulukha(n)(yellow/gold) + uruš(fire) + ibri(white/silver) + igas(heat) Valarin)
Revealed after the fall of the wall of fire, Helluin saw a pitiful tableau. A naked Orch cringed in a spreading puddle of his own water, lying prostrate before a dark throne, but upon it sat 'naught to be seen with mortal eyes. Only was there Darkness. A voice came from that Darkness, but 'twas no voice of a living creature.
Seek tribute from river. Bring to me, Urgûrz¹. ¹(Urgûrz, Revulsive Orkish)
The scene dimmed then and the Darkness encompassed all.
Helluin had seen enough. She withdrew from the Orc's mind, leaving behind a shambles that collapsed in on itself like a pustule of blood burst upon a thorn. Crushed inside by the encounter, the Orch briefly rejoiced.
Once I had a name! Once I was Urgûrz! And then he died.
Helluin and Galadhon were still standing, looking down at the Orch. The wolves saw that the prisoner was dead, and save for a brief glow from Helluin, they had seen 'naught of remark. When she met the alpha's eyes, he offered consolation.
Alas, he spoke not. I am sorry that he was poorly, but he bled much ere ye came.
Worry not, grey hunter, Helluin told him. He told all he knew, and though he knew not much, perhaps 'twas enough. Ye have our thanks. I reckon we could aid thee by disposing of the body.
The wolf nodded his thanks. Helluin and Galadhon dragged the Orch a few yards to the bank and tossed him into Anduin. He bobbed a few times in the swell ere the frigid water carried his corpse out of sight.
As the night was long in winter, 'twas still dark when Helluin and Galadhon took their leave. Intent on retracing their steps, they jogged north along the bank and then east. The sun had been up two hours when they found the horses. Bóndihestr and Herǫr had rested, grazed, and drank, and now they were eager to be away.
Ye need not run all the way home, Helluin told the mare as they prepared to ride.
Though there is little to interest us in these lands, we shall go at a comfortable pace, Helluin. 'Tis cold, windy, and we prefer the lucerne at home to this sere grass.
I understand, Herǫr. Set thine own pace then. I must decide what to do about the tidings we have learnt.
'Round noon on the third day after questioning the Orch, Helluin and Galadhon returned to Norðr-vestandóttir Bý. On the way, the two Noldor had decided that their tidings should soon come to the Wise. The problem was that there was still much that was unclear. Whoe'er had commanded Urgûrz was still unknown, though they had their suspicions. The voice, Helluin had not recognized, nor had she recognized the throne. 'Twas 8 Nínui, T.A. 2060.
"'Twas not Dol Guldur as I remember it," she said, "yet I know of no other place in the forest where any dwell who would command Yrch as I saw."
"Perhaps it hath been redecorated," Galadhon had suggested, "for as thou say, there are few to command Yrch with such terror, whether in the forest or elsewhere."
Helluin nodded in agreement with his opinion.
"Then surely it must be either Sauron or one of his Nine, for none lesser could have hidden their commands within a slave's mind whilst guarding them thus with fire. Sauron has long known how I guard myself and the conjuring I encountered within Urgûrz's mind seemed a plagiarism," she reasoned. "I wager 'tis his doing."
"Yet could not the Úlairi have used such a device at his behest, or perhaps with his aid?"
"I suppose that too is possible," Helluin had to admit. "Their power comes of him."
"Then perhaps t'would be best to approach she who is most able to sense his presence," Galadhon said. "I deem a careful examination of Dol Guldur is warranted."
Helluin nodded, agreeing. Though she had first thought to journey to Imladris to take counsel with Elrond, there was indeed a better alternative.
"Neither I, nor the horses, would favor crossing the High Pass in winter anyway," she said.
"It hath seemed that years pass 'twixt comings of the Yrch," Galadhon said. "Perhaps this errand can wait for spring."
"Crossing the ford can be treacherous then, with the snowmelt and then the spring rains that follow," Helluin said. "By mid-Gwaeron we shall have to wait 'til Lothron."
"The messenger from Lothlórien came in the spring of 2051. Surely we can go thither in early Gwaeron and take counsel with the Lady," Galadhon reasoned.
"Very well," Helluin replied. "We shall set out on 4 Gwaeron, cross Anduin on the 7th, and come to the Golden Wood in a fortnight on the 18th. I shall inform the horses."
"Helluin, they have just returned from a journey of 'nigh two hundred miles. Pray give them a day's peace ere telling them to prepare for a journey of four hundred and eighty."
Helluin threw up her hands, but eventually they shared a laugh o'er it, coddling the horses.
"I shall needs prepare a report for the lady on Álfrhestr's enrichment anyway," she muttered.
To Be Continued
Author's Notes: As tonight is New Year's Eve, I want to wish everyone a safe and joyous end to 2021 and a start to 2022 that is filled with hope for better than the year just past. Stay safe and be well.