In An Age Before – Part 276
Author's Notes: Well, here we go again. I find myself having to deviate from canon regarding the movements of the armies, of Gondor, the Balchoth, and the Éothéod. In JRRT's "Unfinished Tales" Part Three: The Third Age, II Cirion and Eorl and the Friendship of Gondor and Rohan (ii) The Ride of Eorl, we are given the most complete extant account of the progression of the Battle of the Field of Celebrant.
Eorl led the Éothéod's army from Framsburg on "…the sixth day of the month of Víressë." The Éoherë rode south on the east bank of Anduin and were unopposed due to the overwhelming strength of their numbers. They came to the precincts of Dol Guldur, and there they encountered, "the dark shadow and cloud that flowed out from it". Shunning the forest, they rode along the east bank of Anduin and marked "a gleaming mist" that shrouded Lothlórien (Dwimordene). "The white mist was driving back the glooms of Dol Guldur, and soon they passed into it, riding slowly at first and warily." They traversed the mist unharmed and felt invigorated, and they rode in haste for two days. On the third day, the mist was gone and they were surprised to find themselves on flat land 'nigh the North Undeep of Anduin. "It was the morning of the fifteenth day of Víressë, and they had come there at a speed beyond hope."
Eorl's ride to battle would have encompassed roughly six hundred miles in nine days. That's approximately sixty-six miles a day, highly ambitious for fully armed men on horses that still had to have strength left for battle. (Some sources claim that distances of sixty-odd miles for a few days are possible, terrain permitting, but the horses would have to be in excellent condition and such a pace would be very taxing to horses and riders alike. Thirty-odd miles per day is more likely as an average.) Yet somehow, on the 15th, the Éoherë managed to ride another hundred miles, crossing Anduin and the Wold to reach the Field of Celebrant and worst the hosts of the Balchoth and the Yrch from the Misty Mountains. Pretty admirable for a day's work and not particularly believable!
I have amended the timetable so that the Éothéod rode from Framsburg on 1 Víressë, and engaged the enemies in combat on the 15th as specified. That would still be about seven hundred miles in fifteen days, or roughly forty-six miles a day, plus the battle. Still pretty hard to believe, IMHO, but perhaps possible for purposes of winning heroic renown in a fantasy world.
Now as to Steward Cirion's movements, the same section in "Unfinished Tales" reports that word came to the steward, "after the winter of the year 2509 was past", that the Balchoth were massing south of Mirkwood. He sent Borondir to Framsburg on 10 Súlimë and Borondir arrived on the 25th. So he rode the eight hundred-odd miles from Minas Tirith in sixteen days, again, roughly fifty miles a day, part of that time being pursued by enemies. Eorl spent the next eleven days on preparations and then led his army south.
If Gondor's army was being defeated in the Battle of the Field of Celebrant on 15 Víressë and they had left no sooner than 11 Súlimë, (the day after Borondir left Minas Tirith), that would have given the steward thirty-six days to cover roughly 475 miles, (the last forty to fifty of which he was being driven from the Wold to the Field of Celebrant in a rout). That is possible, giving his infantry an average marching pace of thirteen and a half miles per day.
After struggling with pacing and speeds vs. mileage (taken from the maps in Karen Wynn Fonstad's "Atlas of Middle Earth"), I decided on a ten day shorter march time for Cirion and the Army of Gondor, a longer ride time for Eorl, and longer periods of preparation in Minas Tirith and Framsburg. For large armies to muster and deploy, significant time and planning are required, especially in realms facing more than a single threat. They did not simply pick up and march off in a few days. They still don't. Here, Cirion learns of the Balchoth sooner, sends Borondir sooner, and only moves his army after hearing that the invasion has begun.
Now in the afternoon of 5 Víressë, Steward Cirion and his troops reached the beacon hill of Írensaga. They were then a fortnight out from Minas Tirith and the western companies of the Northern Army were awaiting them, having arrived a day earlier. Added to the steward's eight hundred knights, two thousand footmen, and four hundred Rangers were another one hundred twenty knights, three hundred sixty regular infantry, and one hundred twenty Rangers gathered from the dozen beacon garrisons he had passed.
The companies from the western marches of Calenardhon, (principally from Angrenost, Aglarond, Thrihyrne and the other beacon garrisons west of Írensaga), numbered two thousand two hundred. The greatest contingent had come from the garrison of Isengard 'neath the command of Sir Echdór¹, the Knight Commander of the Angrenost hundred of them were mounted and sixteen hundred afoot, including six hundred Rangers, bringing the total of the Northern Army to one thousand five hundred twenty knights, three thousand three hundred sixty infantry, and one thousand one hundred twenty Rangers, all told, six thousand Men. ¹(Echdór, Spear Brother = ech(spear) + tór(brother) The -t becomes –d at the partition in proper nouns. Sindarin)
They made an encampment, and though loath to lose the time, Steward Cirion deemed it fitting to give all of his troops and their horses a day's rest, for they had marched in haste for fourteen straight days and still had far to go ere they came to battle. Thus, whilst the captains took counsel together regarding their prosecution of the war, the Men looked forward to a welcome respite on the 6th.
Behind them on the Great West Road, fifteen hundred cavalry summoned by Hallas from Pelargir, Ithilien, and the garrisons along the South Road 'twixt Pelargir and Minas Tirith galloped desperately to join them. They had left the White City on 30 Súlimë, and on each of the past seven days they had made forty-odd miles. By dusk on 5 Víressë, they reckoned that they were drawing 'nigh the beacon hill of Írensaga, and being already so close, chose to press on into the night.
'Twas in the third hour of darkness that the thunder of hooves was heard approaching the army's camp. It soon became apparent that a major mounted force drew 'nigh for the thunder only grew louder as the minutes passed. Horns were blown and alarms were raised. Foot soldiers rushed to form up, bracketing the road whilst the Rangers set their positions on the flanks to reinforce them, arrows on the strings of their bows. Knights donned their armor, took up their weapons, and mounted their chargers to meet the incoming threat. They stood in formation, waylaying the road. At their head sat Steward Cirion and Sir Echdór bearing the plain white banner of the Stewards.
Now the unknown cavalry drew 'nigh, and when they had approached to a furlong, Cirion blew a great blast on the Horn of Gondor. The knights lowered their lances and the soldiers drew their swords. Then Sir Echdór voiced the challenge.
"Halt and stand, in the name of the Steward! Declare yourselves and your errand in the Realm of Gondor!" the Knight Commander called out in a great voice.
Then the riders reined in their steeds and stilled in a formation with ranks the breadth of the paving whilst their files stretched off, back into the darkness. At their head, a tall figure in silvered armor dismounted and strode forward with his right hand raised in token of peace as he approached the cavalry.
"I am Knight Commander Áarsúl¹, lately of the Port of Pelargir. By order of Lord Hallas I lead fifteen hundred Knights of Gondor to the aid of the Lord Steward Cirion son of Boromir," he called out in a clear voice. "Pray say that I have found him in time." ¹(Áarsúl, Sea Wind = aear(sea) + thúl(wind) The –th becomes –s at the partition in proper nouns. The diphthong –ae becomes –á. Sindarin)
His last words sounded ominous, but Cirion recognized his voice at once for they were friends who had known each other many years.
"Sir Áarsúl, thou and thy knights are unexpected but welcome," Cirion called back in answer. "What word from my son?"
Áarsúl had come to stand a couple fathoms before the steward and there he bowed and replied, "My lord, thy heir received reports that the Balchoth began crossing Anduin at the South Undeeps and along the surrounding banks on 27 Súlimë. Lord Steward, the Rangers report that they number ten thousands. We were sent in haste to thy reinforcement."
"Then thy coming is yet the more welcome, Sir Áarsúl. Ten thousands," Cirion repeated in surprise, but then he waxed grim and hardened his resolve. "Yet they are barbarians still, poorly armed and wholly undisciplined. Though outnumbered by a third, still we shall crush them.
We are encamped for the night and shall take a day's respite on the morrow to rest the Men and horses. I bid thee settle thy knights amongst us and then attend our council of war, my friend."
"T'would be my honor to do so, my lord," Áarsúl said ere bowing and making his way back to his troops. There he assigned officers to o'ersee the setting of their camp, and then he went to attend his steward and take counsel.
At that council, Áarsúl told his tidings of the movements of the Balchoth and the posture of Gondor's forces 'round Anduin. Cirion approved a plan to ride northeast and cross the river Onodló at the ford called the Entwade, for 'twas the only sure crossing. The river ran wild 'twixt deep-cut banks for most of its upper length ere it slowed in flatter lands and became sluggish but broad, with sodden banks of fen and eventually willow meads. After crossing the Entwash, the Army of Gondor would ride to engage the enemy in the downs to the south of the Wold that led from the South Undeep.
The plan was straightforward enough, for there were few options in their route. The mileage was 'round one hundred fifty miles, or a six day march for the infantry. The primary unknown factors included how swiftly the Balchoth had managed to cross Anduin, and how far they would have marched into Gondor ere they were met in battle.
"And 'til we are beyond Onodló, we cannot know these things," Cirion said, "though once 'cross the ford we shall send mounted scouts ahead to seek for any sign of the invaders."
To this as well, all agreed. The infantry would march straight ahead behind a vanguard and ahead of a rearguard of knights, and with their flanks guarded by companies of Rangers. Then, having decided all things necessary, the leaders retired for the night. On the morrow, the army rested, and on 7 Víressë they broke camp and marched to war.
On that same day, the Scoloti had been in Gondor for up to a week and they had moved inland from the river whilst spreading to the flanks, both through the downs to the south and into the coarse, uneven terrain of the Wold. By 7 Víressë they had passed through lands stretching twenty-five miles west of Anduin and twenty miles north south. Their host was concentrated in the troughs 'twixt the downs, but strong companies held the high grounds on their flanks whilst smaller parties roamed 'cross the wide front of their advance.
The Balchoth proceeded more slowly than they might have, but most were afoot and they were unsure of what opposition they might meet. Yet as they spread out 'cross those lands, they found watch posts and fortifications long abandoned, but no living foes. Suspecting 'twas all a trap, they advanced with the wariness of hunted animals. Scoliosis was nervous, imagining his host falling prey to the deceptions of a crafty enemy and terrified of disappointing the master with any setbacks. The other chieftains were just as uncertain, for they had expected immediate battle on the border of a land strongly defended, and the longer they went without combat, the more unsettled they became. The silent and empty land seemed to taunt them with impending doom.
From their camp on the plain 'neath Írensaga, the Army of Gondor marched fifty miles northeast to the Entwade. The ford came into view in the evening of the 8th, but rather than cross and spend the night with their backs to the river, Cirion bid them set camp on the southern bank. They crossed the river Onodló in the morn of 9 Víressë and immediately the steward dispatched mounted scouts northeast to survey the road ahead. These ranged so far as eight leagues in advance of the army, a full day's march, and reported back to their commanders each night.
'Twas not 'til the evening of the 11th that the scouts had 'aught to report.
"My lord steward, this afternoon we espied an easily visible column of smoke some two leagues ahead. 'Twas no hunter's fire. We reckon the enemy is encamped somewhat more than ten leagues ahead this night. On the morrow, we shall learn more."
Cirion nodded, little surprised. They were two score and ten miles northeast of the Entwade and the scouts' report placed their enemies somewhat more than another day's march ahead. Although the Scoloti would be within striking distance of the cavalry by the next afternoon, he would not instigate a battle with only half his resources available. The Balchoth host far outnumbered his knights and he was unsure what fraction of them were mounted. Nay, they would spend the morrow marching and anticipate battle on the 13th.
"Scout with care on the morrow. Learn what thou can of their positions and their disposition, but avoid engaging in combat. We shall continue our march on the morrow, so to come against them with our full strength the day after," Cirion said. "By then, their host should be close."
The Steward could have retired for the night, but the enemy lay barely more than a day's march ahead and surely they would also advance on the morrow. Ere he led his troops to battle, he desired to know as much as possible. To gain that knowledge, he had in his host one thousand one hundred twenty of the finest hunters in the South Kingdom. He called for the commanders of the Rangers and took counsel with them.
"Pengferedir, Gilgon, Dúnamrod¹, the scouts have reported columns of smoke a score and ten ahead and believe advance companies of the enemy encamp thither," Steward Cirion told the Ranger commanders from Minas Tirith, Angrenost, and the beacon garrison of Írensaga. "I must know the enemy positions and what of their movements as can be discerned. Battle comes, my friends, and ere I lead our army into the jaws of a greater host, I would know how they deploy and what lands they hold." ¹(Pengferedir, Bow Hunter = peng(bow) + feredir(hunter), Gilgon, Star Stone = gil(star) + gond(stone) The final –nd becomes –n in proper nouns. Dúnamrod, West Wanderer = dún(west) + amrod(wanderer) Sindarin)
"We have but eleven score and eight from the beacon garrisons with horses," said Dúnamrod after a moment's thought, "and only these can cover the miles to the enemy's suspected positions and then return to report ere the army marches and comes 'nigh on the morrow."
"If they can count campfires during the night, we may discern the count and positions of the enemies ahead," Pengferedir agreed.
"Some should return to report immediately, but others should remain to mark their advance," said Gilgon, "and withdraw only upon seeing the dust of our approaching army to proffer the most recent tidings."
"So be it then, commanders," the steward said. "Send them forth, and we shall pray that having met none aforetime, the Balchoth shall not camp cold, nor send forth scouts of their own in sufficient stealth as to pass unseen."
The trio of Rangers nodded grimly at those possibilities, and then bowed and took their leave. Shortly later, the hoof beats of horses heading away from the camp grew faint in the distance. Having done what he could, Steward Cirion went to his night's rest anticipating the dawn and soon, battle at last.
Now in the late afternoon on 7 Gwirith, having then traveled three hundred fifty miles from Framsburg, Borondir stayed Eorl and pointed out a nondescript trail leading west from the north south track. Within a couple furlongs, it disappeared into open woodland, the first actual forested land they had seen that was not part of Mirkwood.
"A mile hence lays Norðr-vestandóttir Bý, my lord," the errand rider of Gondor said.
Eorl looked thither with doubtful glance. For a supposedly thriving farming community of hundreds, there was little apparent use of the path. Weeds grew undisturbed and only a few old hoof prints were to be seen in the earth. There were no wagon ruts and new growth o'erhung from adjacent bushes.
"I should swear that no more than a few have come this way for a season at least. Art thou certain this is the way?" the king asked.
"'Tis the way we came when returning from battle to the south but shortly ere I arrived at Framsburg," Borondir said. He pointed out a watercourse 'twixt low banks that ran but a dozen fathoms ahead. "There lies the small river or broad stream that flows past the farm and provides power to several water wheels. 'Tis their southern border, my lord."
Eorl nodded, recalling his lore.
"So 'twas said of Suꝺriborg, that its south border was a river and beyond lay a land of many goats. Of old, the greater city of Nýr Vera lay to the north within a palisade wherein was built the hall of the ruling lord Rekkr son of Hrólfr."
Eorl beckoned Prince Weardearn to join him, and after leaving the host 'neath the command of his captain Éomund with orders to stand fast and await his return, he followed Borondir down the little used trail and into the woods. The king and his uncle found that ride the most pleasant that either of them had taken in several years, for the land itself seemed at peace, bountiful, and generous. Broken patches of sunlight flickered amongst cool shadows of the leaves. Birds sang in the trees and the burbling of the water o'er rocks in the streambed grew louder as the trail drew 'nigh the banks. After half a mile, they came to a split rail fence with an opening, but no gate 'cross the trail.
"We are indeed come to Norðr-vestandóttir Bý, my lord. I have been here aforetime and recall it clearly," said Borondir. He looked carefully ahead and his eyes lit up. "The path grows more traveled, and up ahead on the bank is a great bramble of mixed berries that was laden with fruit when I came in Cerveth last."
Eorl and Weardearn looked ahead. At thirty yards, the bramble showed fresh leaves on new canes though 'twas early yet for fruit. The path now bore hoof prints recent and easily marked in the earth. A little further, a hillock rose on the right side of the track opposite the stream.
"We draw close, my lord," Borondir said as they came abreast of the bramble.
Weardearn nudged his nephew and directed his glance to the ground and the stems 'neath the spreading canes, saying, "Hast thou e'er marked such girth in a bush of raspberry? I have not."
"Nor I," said Eorl, shaking his head, "very old it must be."
"'Twas here and already long established in 2003," said a velvety voice suddenly close beside them, but opposite the bramble. Their heads jerked 'round left to right and they beheld a tall figure in antique black armor, a long black sword sheathed at her side and a silvery Ring blade on a clip at her belt. A subtle sheen surrounded, or perhaps emanated from her, and there was a hint of blue fire in her eyes. "Welcome again to Norðr-vestandóttir Bý, Borondir of Gondor, and welcome my lords Eorl and Weardearn." She offered the nobles a restrained bow, but the looks of surprise on their faces were mirrored by the look of surprise on her own.
"Helluin Úlairdacil," the king said in amazement, and then he looked to Borondir and said, "I see now how thou wouldst recognize her without doubt from the tapestry in my hall. My lady, I should swear that thou art unchanged from the time of King Ërlick!"
"I thank thee for thy kind words, Eorl King, and I am astonished as well, for both thou and thy noble steed recall others known to me long aforetime." At his questioning look, Helluin said, "My lord, thou art the image of Prince Fram, heir of Frumgar and later King of the Éothéod with whom I rode to invade Dol Guldur."
"King Fram was my foresire a score lifetimes past," Eorl said in amazement. Helluin nodded to this, thinking, so many…so short-lived. She was drawn back to the present when he asked, "Of whom dost Felaróf remind thee?" The stallion looked o'er and met Helluin's eyes.
"In the last years of the reign of Lüdhgavia King, my beloved and I met a Maera named Dágeleb. We aided him and his mate Celegield at the birth of their son Aduial." She dipped her head to Felaróf whose eyes had widened in shock so that the whites were presented.
Thou knew Dágeleb? The Dágeleb? he asked.
I knew a Dágeleb, aye, in the lands 'twixt Celduin and Carnen in the year 1003, Helluin replied, but that was long ago and perhaps more than one Maera has borne that name.
We reckon not the years as do Men, he said, ere adding, or Elves, and aye, there have been others who bore that name, but none with a mate named Celegield and a son named Aduial, though both of those names too have been taken more than once…in tribute. My line claims descent from Aduial, though none can prove it save by word of mind.
The Men had marked the extended exchange of silence 'twixt Helluin and Felaróf as they stared eye to eye and Borondir asked, "What of the black mare Dúrochil, Helluin? Doth she linger still at Norðr-vestandóttir Bý? Lords Eorl and Weardearn know much of horses and might desire to meet her as I deem she too was a Maera."
"Nay, Borondir, neither she nor any of the Myrhilv tarry at the farm save to foal," the Noldo said. "In truth, I rarely see any of that kindred."
The Myrhilv? asked Felaróf, after reclaiming Helluin's attention with a snort and a stamp.
The Black Coats. They came from the north four centuries past and we made a pact. They could foal in safety on the lands of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý, and if my need was truly great, they would bear me.
Helluin marked that again, the stallion showed the whites of his eyes in amazement, or perhaps alarm. She canted her head to him in question.
The Myrhilv are only a legend to us. We regard them as myth, for none have been seen and they are only mentioned in some ancient lore. They are not Mearas as are my kin. Indeed some doubt that they are horses at all.
Helluin nodded to Felaróf, having suspected something similar herself. She spoke aloud so both he and the Northmen could hear.
"Dúrochil bore me swift and tireless from dawn 'til in the first hour after nightfall we came to the High Pass o'er the Hithaeglir, ten score miles in half a day. There I dismissed her with thanks. Her path thereafter I know not, nor have I seen any of that kindred since."
"Two hundred miles in half a day?" Weardearn whispered in awe. "Can such truly be?"
"She left us in the dust and passed from sight within the first hour, my lords," Borondir said.
"I attest 'twas so, and by the following dawn I had rescued Celebrían, wife of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, from a den of Yrch.
In truth, I know little of the Myrhilv save that after whistling the notes of Béma's horn; Dúrochil appeared offering aid as their lord had promised four centuries aforetime." Helluin saw the looks of amazement on the faces of the Men and a look of nervousness on Felaróf's. She said, "In the mountains on the borders of Mordor I once met an Owl tall as a Man that was actually a Maia of the host of Oromë, whom thou call Béma. He named himself Glohsúl, White Wind, and gave me aid. My lords, there are guardians still in Middle Earth, servants of the gods, seldom met and unknown by most, yet they too have long stood against the evil."
"Then mayhap these Myrhilv are also spirit servants of the gods, but behamed as horses," Eorl said as if trying to convince himself of a concept he found un-credible.
"So I suspect them to be after hearing Felaróf's rede," said Helluin, provoking yet more astonished looks from the king and the prince. Borondir took it all in stride having spoken aforetime with the riders from Helrunahlæw and seen their interactions with the Wolves. Felaróf dipped his head to the Noldo in deference for her acceptance of his counsel.
After some moments, King Eorl recalled his purpose and said, "Helluin, Norðr-vestandóttir Bý holds a place in the history of the Éothéod and only of late have I learnt that 'tis inhabited again. By thy leave I would look upon it ere I must continue south."
"My lord, thou art welcome to visit of course," said Helluin, "and I deem those who abide there shall rejoice to greet their king."
Her declaration left Eorl surprised, for it had been many lifetimes since they were sundered.
'They marched not to Framsburg with the host and have been estranged for o'er five hundred years," said Eorl. "Surely they cannot still deem me their lord?"
"Eorl King, their ancestors went not to Framsburg because they feared Gundabad and Angmar. To this day, they count themselves Northmen and acknowledge thy rule. Norðr-vestandóttir Bý has no lords or ladies and no other holds their allegiance."
"But I thought thou…" he trailed off, uncertain.
"My lord, we are all commoners here," Helluin said with a grin, and Borondir who had once heard those same words o'er an evening meal in her cabin laughed aloud. "Come, my lords, let us meet thine errant people."
They walked together 'round the hillock, continuing deep in conversation. When they finally came into view of the farm, even Helluin was astonished to find most of the people from Helrunahlæw gathered and waiting. Her eyes fell upon Ngandáro, the only other Elf visible amongst the throng, and he offered her a grin.
E'ery one of the sixty riders were formed up in ranks beside their horses in front of the stockade. They were fully armed and appeared ready to ride to war. In the open space 'twixt Helluin's cabin and the large farmhouse were gathered the farmers, whilst the craftsmen and wrights stood before the smithy and the adjacent pottery. Before the stable waited the unassigned horses, whilst the cows had congregated in front of the byre and the sheep had gathered before their fold. The roof of the chicken coop was crowded with hens.
Eorl and Weardearn stared at it all in utter shock. Both were long used to walking through Framsburg with 'naught but some friendly greetings called out. Helluin nudged Borondir and gave him a pointed look, breaking the errand rider from his own paralysis.
"Good people of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý," he cried out, "come amongst ye this day are Eorl son of Léod, King of the Éothéod and his father-brother Prince Weardearn of Framsburg. Pray make them welcome!"
In silence and with great solemnity, the people bowed as one to the lords of the Éothéod, and then after a moment they gave a great cheer, shouting their greetings. Whinnies, moos, bleats, clucking, and the crowing of the rooster accompanied their voices. In the distance, a wolf howled though few marked it amidst all else.
"Hail Eorl King, Lord of the Éothéod!" the people yelled.
The king was affected by their outpouring of welcome. His eyes grew wet with unshed tears at the acceptance and yes, the love that he felt from these sundered sons of the Éothéod. Finally, he blinked and composed himself ere he spoke to them, and they hung on his e'ery word.
"Long it hath been since our host was sundered by where we chose to abide, yet during all those years, ne'er were ye sundered from us in heart. So steadfast are ye as to make any lord proud, and I my heart swells with pride in ye, my brothers and sisters, and I give ye honor and respect, to both ye and your sires," he said. Then to the astonishment of the common folk of Helrunahlæw, their king bowed to them!
A rider came forward from the ranks, an older warrior with golden hair going grey, and he bowed before Eorl and spoke for his comrades.
"Eorl King, our ancestors were loyal subjects of King Frumgar in 1977, and though they went not to Framsburg, ne'er would they have pledged their service to any but his house. 'Tis now 2510 and we are still the loyal subjects of the House of Marhwini, my king," Eadmundr declared, and all the riders cheered 'aye!'.
Now into this reunion trotted a large grey wolf and he had come in haste down the river path from the west. Straightaway he stood before Helluin despite the varying degrees of upset his appearance had caused amongst the people, and there he sat. The king and the prince laid hands to the hilts of their swords, but just as Ælfric had once restrained Borondir, now 'twas the errand rider who shook his head 'nay' and to reassure them, stood 'twixt the wolf and the Northmen.
Helluin and the wolf met each others' eyes and spoke in silence.
Greetings, bright one, what in Ennorath have I walked in to here? the allied pack's alpha asked as he shook his head at the throng standing 'round staring at them.
Greetings, grey hunter. 'Tis the meeting of a long sundered people with their king, she said.
Well, huh. I shall try to time better my appearances in the future, yet I deemed that my tidings could not wait, he said, and after a moment's thought added, Should I worry that our pact shall become null and void if the king should repossess his holding?
Legally I suppose that is possible, though I believe the king has more pressing matters to attend, for he rode at the head of a vast host of warriors.
I see, said the wolf, so then mayhap my tidings bear upon his errand as well.
Helluin regarded him with a questioning glance and he drew himself up and continued.
From our allied pack in the south comes word from the pack two hunting ranges further south. The Easterling barbarians began crossing the river beyond the folded lands eleven dawns past and gathered on the west bank. Some forded on horseback. Some rode rafts. Some drowned, but they are so great a host that their crossing took five days.
The Noldo controlled her horror and nodded to the wolf.
My thanks for thy tidings, grey hunter. They do indeed bear upon the king's errand and upon the realm of Gondor further south as well. There shall be war.
I had thought as much, and if thou ride forth, then I wish thee victory and a safe return to thy hunting grounds, bright one. I take my leave.
Helluin dipped her head to the alpha and the wolf returned her parting farewell, and then he loped off to the west down the river path the way he had come. E'ery eye in Norðr-vestandóttir Bý watched him 'til he passed beyond sight.
The Noldo immediately came to Eorl and said, "My lord, from the Wolves of the Brown Lands comes word that the Balchoth began crossing Anduin on 27 Gwaeron and have been in the Wold since Gwirith 1st. Gondor is under attack."
At her words, Borondir looked stricken and Eorl no less troubled.
"We must away at once," he said, and would have leapt onto Felaróf and galloped off, but he stayed his haste a few moments. "My thanks for thy tidings, Helluin Úlairdacil. It hath been my honor to meet thee and the people of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý. Alas, battle calls and ancient bonds of friendship must be honored. We ride to the aid of Steward Cirion."
"A moment, Eorl King, I pray thee," the Noldo said. "What are for thee bonds of friendship are to me bonds of kinship. I too shall ride to the relief of the steward."
Surprise and thanksgiving were writ on the king's face at her words.
"Even as did my foresire Fram son of Frumgar, I shall ride to battle with thee and count myself blessed," he said.
Eadmundr was already standing close enough to have heard all, and Ngandáro had come 'nigh as well.
"My Lord Eorl, we too are Men of the Éothéod and would honor blood and oaths long taken," Eadmundr said. "We shall ride with thy host if thou wouldst have us."
"With gladness and honor do I accept thee and thy riders, Eadmundr. Pray ready yourselves, for haste and need drive us and we shall ride swift."
Eadmundr nodded and returned to the other riders by the stockade. He announced the situation and there was no discussion. They simply picked up their travel bags and weapons, mounted their warhorses, and formed up in an ordered company ready to depart.
"T'would seem the Men of Helrunahlæw have come into their own at last," Ngandáro said, looking them o'er.
"Indeed so and I thank the Valar it hath come to pass ere they all passed from old age," Helluin replied with the hint of a grin. "Thou arranged for them to gather to meet their king."
"As thou requested ere appearing at his side by the berry bramble," he said. "'Tis not oft that a king returns to his people so unexpectedly. Eadmundr scarcely believed me when I told him to gather the riders. Once word spread, the rest were so curious that they would not be kept away for any cause."
"I wager Eadmundr shall believe 'aught thou say henceforth," she said. She chuckled at that, but then grew serious again and said, "I would that thou and the others keep watch o'er the farm whilst the riders are away, meldir nín. I trust not that Dol Guldur is truly empty for the wolf said 'naught about Yrch, only Easterlings crossing Anduin."
"I understand, meldis nín," the Tatya said. "We shall safeguard Norðr-vestandóttir Bý so that these doughty warriors have a home to return to with their new won renown."
They traded smiles and then Helluin went to her cabin to fetch her cloak, bow, quiver, and travel bag. When she came forth, Beadurof was waiting for her 'neath the apple trees. The stallion seemed eager to run and had he a bit, Helluin reckoned he probably would hath been chomping on it.
To battle, to battle! he chanted as he looked into her eyes.
Aye, to battle, but t'will be like no battle that thou hast seen aforetime, Beadurof. This is no incursion of a company, but rather the invasion of a host. We may be days in combat.
He stopped a moment to consider her words and then said, As thou wast in Sheol? At her nod 'aye', he said, I am ready, Helluin. We shall ride in a good cause, come what may.
That is all that any can do, Beadurof, she told him, ere they turned to follow Eorl, Weardearn, Borondir, and the New Riders of Helrunahlæw as the sun began to sink into the west. With their added warriors, the Éoherë made another three leagues ere camping for the night.
Two days later, in the afternoon of 9 Gwirith, the host approached the precincts of Dol Guldur, and to the horror of the scouts who reported back to the king's war council, found a darksome shade emanating from the verge of Mirkwood. 'Twas as if a deep shadow, or perhaps a black smoke crept from 'neath the trees, enshrouding the lands to the east of the north south track. 'Twas spreading further west, they said, and the sight of it alone had brought fear to their hearts.
"'Tis no vapor of the world, my lord," said one scout, shivering as he recalled the vision.
"The wind brought no scent of burning to our noses, yet there was a smell, akin to the stench of a fresh graveyard where too many lie too shallow 'neath the earth," said another, and if he had been a horse, the whites of his eyes would have shown in fear.
"This is the work of the enemy, a foul sorcery that winds its way west to the aid of his Easterling host," Helluin declared with certainty, recalling the descriptions of the Perian Bobo Fallohide, Mayor of Fur'long on the east bank of Anduin. In Narwain of 1002, he had spoken of the Onodrim being driven from Calenglad in Cerveth of 997.
Then came a black fog or smoke, I know not which, low on th' ground. It stopped just past th' eaves 'n lay darker'n th' shadows. I smelt no smoke nor saw flame, but I swear my blood chill'd at th' sight o' it. Then it swirled 'n returned into th' forest. So the small mayor had described the same phenomenon that Eorl's scouts were reporting now.
"I reckon then that he hath marked us and seeks to delay or cow us," Eorl said, "yet we shall not be stayed by some smoke regardless of whence it comes." He turned to Helluin and Borondir and asked, "Do either of ye know paths to our west, closer to Anduin that we may ride in haste to come beyond this wiccecræft¹?" ¹(wiccecræft, witchcraft Old English)
"There is a track running along the riverbanks, Eorl King," said Helluin. "Thirty-three leagues it runs ere returning to the north south track, and during that time we shall bypass Borg Fjōlkyngi and the 'Black Breath'."
"Thou use the old name of that accursed place," King Eorl remarked, and then thought further on her words. "'Nigh five score miles that way runs. In that time, shall we not pass in sight of Dwimordene 'cross the river?"
"Aye, that we shall, my lord," Helluin said, curious as to his impressions of Lothlórien.
"'Tis a realm of legend and I would lay eyes upon it if chance permits," he said. "I would see this enchanted land that glows as a great hoard of gold."
"The distance 'cross Anduin is not so great, my lord," Helluin said, hoping that they would not be embroiled in the fumes of Dol Guldur. "If we continue on this afternoon, we may come to the trail along the river ere nightfall."
"So be it then," said the king, "for I would not chose to spend the night so close to yonder fume."
Helluin nodded in agreement and the scouts breathed sighs of relief. The host set off shortly later and rode west 'cross the uneven ground quite close to where the Noldo had passed with Galadhon to question Yrch some centuries aforetime. After an hour, they heard the howls of Wolves and Helluin had Eorl stay the host. Then she advanced alone and shortly she was met by the southern pack.
Greetings, bright one, said the alpha, Beadurof, he added acknowledging the warhorse.
Alas, we have no time to continue our game of riddles, the stallion said. We ride to war!
Greetings, grey hunter, Helluin said, dipping her head to the wolf. Thou hast my thanks for the tidings from thy kin to the south.
Greatly upset they were and we passed along their words as swiftly as we could. T'would seem they found receptive ears.
They did indeed. The alpha of the pack 'nigh Norðr-vestandóttir Bý arrived in fortunate hour, for the king of the Northmen was visiting.
Ahhh, I had wondered how thou had enlisted so many in such timely fashion, the wolf said.
'Twas purely by chance, for the kings of his line had not come amongst those of his people in o'er six hundred years. He was already leading his host south to war.
That is good then, for I had doubts that even with thy prowess and thy warriors thou could have turned this host of Easterlings from their path.
T'would have taken many months to shoot so many, Helluin said, then offered him a warning. A dark cloud approaches from Dol Guldur. 'Tis a fell sorcery and I bid thee shun it. Withdraw north if thou must. We seek to pass west of it in haste.
Then do not let me stay thee further, bright one. We shall accept thy counsel, but I shall also say that from 'cross the river a silvery mist arose and lies now upon the water. I think that we shall avoid it as well. 'Tis no natural vapor, for it resists the breeze.
To this tiding, Helluin's eyes widened in surprise, but she offered no speculations. Instead, she dipped her head to the wolf and said, Fair hunting and good fortune to thee and thy pack, grey hunter.
Safe travels and victory in battle, bright one. Beadurof, when next we meet, thou shalt be confounded by our riddles at last.
As if, said the warhorse as the wolf pack trotted away and disappeared into the landscape.
Helluin and Beadurof returned to the king and the Noldo said, "Eorl King, the way is open and the local pack wishes us well upon our errand. He marked a silvery mist emanating from the Golden Wood, so alas, thy sight of Dwimordene may be obscured, but we shall see."
The king nodded to her, not even bothering to question the source of her foreknowledge. He bid the host move on and ere nightfall, they came to the bank of Anduin. By then, 'twas too dark to mark much 'cross the water, and the host lit no fires that night for fear of revealing themselves to the enemy.
Now when 10 Gwirith dawned, the host rose and mounted to continue their ride. By mid-morn they had come within three leagues of how far south lay Dol Guldur, and though that accursed fortress was then four score miles to their east, the dark shade extended 'cross the land towards them even though they rode beside the river. But from the west there flowed a scintillating mist that rolled o'er the water, whilst ahead they could mark a contest in which that white vapor met and roiled against the black fume from Dol Guldur. The collision lay not a mile inland, and it even seemed that the shadowy smog was being forced back. If they continued, 'twas through the mist that they would ride.
Now the eyes of the host were turned east in fear, but to the west in hope of seeing that land which in their legends shone like gold, yet all they saw was the billowing white mist that moved 'cross the river and towards the east. The host slowed in trepidation as they approached, and yet the white fog bank rolled on and all beyond the bank was obscured from their sight.
Eorl did not halt. "Ride on!" he commanded. "There is no other way to take. After so long a road shall we be held back from battle by a river mist?"¹¹(This paragraph is taken verbatim from "Unfinished Tales", Part Three: The Third Age, II Cirion and Eorl And The Friendship Of Gondor and Rohan, (ii) The Ride of Eorl, pg. 299.)
Then they passed into the mist, and rather than being dank and dim within, they found that a shadowless light surrounded them, surprisingly bright, and a feeling of safety came to their hearts, whilst all sounds were muffled.
The Northmen eventually began to breathe easier, for though eldritch, they felt no threat. 'Twas as if they were enshrouded in white walls that shielded them from unfriendly eyes and muffled the beats of their horses' hooves so that no hint of their passing would come to the ears of their enemies. Then they rode with more ease and haste, safeguarded by that spell of secrecy.
"The Lady of the Golden Wood is on our side, it seems," said Borondir.
"Maybe," said Eorl. "But at least I will trust the wisdom of Felaróf. He scents no evil. His heart is high, and his weariness healed; he strains to be given his head. So be it! For never have I had more need of secrecy and speed."¹ ¹(This dialog is taken verbatim from "Unfinished Tales", Part Three: The Third Age, II Cirion and Eorl And The Friendship Of Gondor and Rohan, (ii) The Ride of Eorl, pg. 300.)
Within the cloud, time passed strangely and it seemed that their fatigue was held at bay. Our strength fades not but is preserved, as are all things 'neath the protection of Nenya, Helluin thought. Lady Galadriel opposes the Shadow and fortunate are we that our road takes us 'neath the mantle of her power. 'Tis hard to reckon the time and even I cannot count the hours we have ridden this day. I should not be surprised to find that the mortals, both Men and horses, have lost all track of time, just as they are wont to do when visiting the Golden Wood.
Indeed, though the Éoherë continued on, and though after t'would seem that they could recall riding in the mist but two days, they had spent o'er double that. When Anor rose upon the 15th, which they falsely reckoned to be the 12th, (for it felt to them as but the third day since entering the fog), they found that the mist had vanished and they had come to the river just ere reaching the Brown Lands. The North Undeep lay practically at their feet.
Very astonished were the Men of the Éothéod, for they thought that they had ridden fifty leagues in two days. In fact, they had ridden those one hundred fifty miles in four days, no mean feat within a bank of fog. Yet while they sat taking stock of their position, Helluin turned her ears to the faint sounds she heard now from o'er the water; distant clash of steel, shouts and screams, and the call of a horn. 'Twas the sound of battle, borne 'cross Anduin on a westerly breeze.
Beside her, King Eorl marked her attention even as Felaróf perked his ears.
"What dost thou hear, Helluin?" he asked, "For t'would seem that Felaróf marks it as well."
"The Horn of Gondor, my lord! The steward calls for aid!"
Borondir's eyes were widened in fear for his lord, but the king's eyes slitted with hatred and his mouth was tight with resolve.
"Now is the hour, warriors of the Éoherë!" he cried out. "For honor and league of friendship, ride now! Ride to battle! Ride to victory and renown!"
And even as a great cheer rose from the host and hundreds of horns were winded in answer, Felaróf leapt into the ford and charged 'cross the water with Beadurof and Aashif bearing Helluin and Borondir beside him and seven thousand five hundred riders following in his wake.
7 Gwirith came to Moria, though in its endless darkness, no dawn was seen. On that appointed day, Gijackûrz-kragor summoned the Uruks to the Second Hall and ordered his lieutenant Hokurzêmar to roust out any slackers and slay them as examples to the rest. By then, the Uruks had come to fear the Werewolves only slightly less than the master and his Nine and most of them appeared as ordered, dreading whatsoe'er might be forthcoming.
Bloody Fang regarded them with eyes that glowed an unnatural red and he licked his chops, hoping that at least some amongst them would show defiance and justify him biting off their heads, but they simply regarded him in silence and awaited such orders as he might pronounce. He did not disappoint.
"The most powerful master of Kodarob-dush commands ye to battle," he said, looking them o'er as he would any item of prey. They cringed, but said 'naught. "Ye are to go south by the path through the mountains to the north border of the dark forest, and follow its border east. In those lands, ye shall join allies from the east in battle against the Westmen. Such blood, flesh, and plunder as ye may take shall be yours. Ye have one week or I shall take your hides and the master shall send one of his Nine to avenge your failings."
Crouching beside him, Iron Heart chuckled, for they both knew well that these Uruks had fled the rumor of one who looked like a Nazgûl.
"Fear not, for ye shall not go alone. Hokurzêmar shall command ye and offer 'counsel' so that all shall go according to the master's design," Gijackûrz-kragor added.
He and his lieutenant shared a smile, for they both knew that many of the Yrch would fail for one reason or another, or perhaps for no reason at all should Hokurzêmar desire some sport.
The Uruks sighed in resignation, but there was 'naught that they could do that morn and they would march to war, hoping for the opportunity to slip away or to flee once the combat began. There would be chances. There always were. Then Gijackûrz-kragor commanded them set out, and with Hokurzêmar snapping at their heels, the Uruks fled 'cross Durin's Bridge, through the First Hall, and out the East Gate into Nanduhirion.
The Werewolf drove them on, up onto the mountain path and south past Lothlórien towards Fangorn Forest. He was relentless, untiring, and on four paws, far more agile than they on two feet. Like e'ery good commander they had known, he led from the rear of their column, forcing his troops to maintain a deadly pace. A few fell, and after a bloodcurdling shriek of terror, the rest watched their bodies bounce off the rocky cliff face ere disappearing into the undergrowth at the bottom.
By nightfall, the Golden Wood lay behind and they pushed on 'neath the stars. By then, e'ery one of the Uruks sizzled with resentment, but there was nowhere for them to go and no place to rest. They did not halt 'til just ere dawn, and then they cast themselves down in exhaustion as the Iron Heart paced at the rear and watched the lowland.
They descended a steep path tracing a narrow ravine just north of the dark forest shortly after midnight on the 12th, having run fifty leagues in 5 ½ nights, and averaging almost thirty grueling miles each march. Hokurzêmar allowed them a half-hour rest, during which time he tore the heads of a trio who had tried to slip away. Cowed, the remainder huddled against the cliff 'til they were again commanded to run.
The company ran 'til dawn and then hunkered down 'neath their ragged cloaks and spent the day hiding from the sun. Although he understood the master's intention in spending the blood of these Uruks, Iron Heart wished they were Warg Riders from Dol Guldur, Yrch who had come east from the Sea of Rhûn and whose improved bloodline allowed them to run 'neath the sun. They were bigger and stronger too, and would have covered the distance to the battle in days less time. He sighed as his eyes roved o'er the company, hoping that some fools would try to sneak off so that he could have a snack. Thus they passed the hours of daylight.
Night fell and the Uruks breathed sighs of relief as blessed darkness covered the land. Those who had rations gnawed at lumps of coarse dark bread or chewed on scraps of dried meat. Those who did not plucked twigs to chew on to coax forth saliva or swallowed small stones to silence their grumbling bellies. Then the Werewolf rousted them and they ran as the night of the 13th opened. Ere dawn, they had passed well beyond the borders of the forest and followed the north bank of a small river that ran in a deep cutting 'twixt steep walls. Parched as all of them were, there was no way down to the water. Like much else, it seemed to exist only to taunt them.
The flowing river continued to torment them through the following night as well, and by then they had come far from the mountains, crossing a rough land of tussocks of coarse grass, mats of heathers, and copses of low, scraggly trees. At least thus far they had not been hunted by Elves or Men.
On the night of the 15th they were again forced to march, loping 'cross the darkened land beside a river from which they could not drink, yet on that night, only hours after dusk, they heard at last the clash of arms, hoof beats, and battle cries from near ahead. A low rise they topped and 'neath their feat lay a greener, flatter land that ended at the great river. From the south, fording the small river they had followed came horsemen and footmen, with the heraldry of Gondor emblazoned on their pennants and breastplates. Hokurzêmar's company had reached the battle at last, and as they watched, they marked that the Westmen were fleeing.
To Be Continued