In An Age Before – Part 324
During that night, as Dírhael and Ivorwen slept, Helluin ruminated on the lineages of Balar, the Kings of Eriador, and Dúrrél's descendants of the First House. She reviewed the prophecy of Iarwain Ben-adar, and though no foresight or visions visited her, she felt the time drawing 'nigh for the realization of the Eldest's staves. Ere the dawn of 3 Narquelië broke, the Noldo had convinced herself that the fall of Sauron and the rise of a great king of Lainiel's line were soon to come. Despite her hopes though, she was still realistic enough to reckon that her own wishful thinking and impatience were as much a factor as 'aught else. As the terrifying time traveler had said, "Last light of the Elder Days shalt shine, And time unfold in its proper time." Whether it came in a year, a century, or a millennium, she would have to live in suspense.
When dawn brightened the sky outside the windows, Helluin roused herself, rebuilt the fire and set salted water in a cauldron low over the flames to prepare some oatmeal for their fast breaking. Understanding after thousands of years that a watched pot never boils, she snatched up the chamber pot and walked though the silent streets to dump its contents into the latrine pit in the ravine beyond the edge of town.
Her return found the water boiling. She tossed in a few handfuls of rolled oats, and then heated a kettle of water to make tea. Dírhael still slept, but his breathing was easy and his lungs sounded clear. She nodded in approval. No sound on the floorboards yet told of Ivorwen moving 'round upstairs and Helluin was inclined to let them both sleep.
When she deemed the oats done, she covered and raised the cauldron to a higher position by removing an S-shaped trammel hook and hanging the cauldron's handle directly from the hearth crane. This she swung away from the flames so that the cereal would remain hot, but below simmering.
The water in the kettle boiled soon after and Helluin took it from the fire and set it to cool just a bit ere pouring some hot water into the teapot and leaving it to steep over a few pinches of herbs. She would offer them a fortifying medicinal blend of coneflower and other herbs to strengthen their constitutions without making it overly bitter. A pinch of mint and some linden flowers helped with the taste. Licorice root would have been ideal, Helluin thought, but 'twas rare in markets so far north. Maybe next time she found herself in Gondor…
The Noldo had just set out bowls and spoons when she heard distant voices raised in fear from the direction of her camp. With Dírhael and Ivorwen still sleeping peacefully, she had 'naught else to attend and so Helluin tied on her sword belt and left the house, hastening towards the disturbance.
Now when Helluin arrived at the scene of a strange confrontation, she saw three Men standing at the gate in a fence surrounding a small home with an herb garden on the side and three ragged wolves lounging in the front yard. The fence was low enough that they had obviously leapt it to gain admittance, for the gate was still closed fast. Strewn 'round them were a scattering of feathers, some shreds of fur, and a whole rabbit, unmoving and quite dead. The Men appeared angry and scared; the wolves looked pleased and well fed.
"What goes forth, pray tell?" Helluin asked innocently enough when she arrived to stand in the street behind the upset trio.
One of the Men turned to her and exclaimed, "The wolves have come down from the hills and attacked Hareth! They have eaten her!"
Helluin recognized him as Magor, the Man Lord Dírhael had comforted upon his arrival at the town hall three days ago. He was cured enough now to be red in the face and jumping to the worst conclusions.
Helluin carefully surveyed the yard but saw no body and no evidence of 'aught larger than a rabbit and a brace of pheasants having been eaten. The wolf she spoke with met her glance and his jowls rose in a smile. She shook her head, suppressed a guffaw, and resolved to defuse the situation ere it got out of hand and someone actually got hurt.
"Where is her body? Or at least her remains?" the Noldo asked, trying to sound reasonable.
"They have eaten her up," another of the Men said, his voice high pitched in horror. "They have left not so much as a fingernail or a shock of hair."
"They have consumed her, clothes, shoes, and all?" Helluin could not help but ask, unable to keep from sounding a bit doubtful.
At this, the Men looked at her and then to each other. Even they had to admit that there was no such evidence in the yard.
"Pray let us walk along the fence and discover if there is 'aught gruesome that attests to her murder," the Noldo said, beckoning them to follow her 'round the perimeter.
They reluctantly joined her, eyeing the wolves nervously as if they would attack at any moment. Helluin watched the animals yawn and lick their chops, but they did 'naught more threatening than that. They watched as the humans passed down the fence, 'round a corner, and finally out of sight along the back of the property.
"Perhaps they killed her inside her home and we shall find 'naught in the yard," one Man offered uncertainly. To this, Helluin nodded as if actually considering the possibility.
"And thereafter they exited the house, closing the door behind them, to lounge in the yard whilst accomplishing all in such silence as to alert none?" she asked.
"I live closest and heard 'naught," the third of them admitted, "and 'twas only upon leaving my home that I marked them lying in Hareth's yard. They have barely moved since despite the time it took to roust these two." He cast a reproachful eye to Magor and the other Man.
By then they had found 'naught whilst passing along the back of the yard and rounded the corner to walk up the other side and return to the front. When they arrived back at the gate and were forced to admit that they had found no crime scene in the yard, they stood scratching their heads. It seemed the notion that Hareth had not been eaten was simply inconceivable.
"Pray await me hither," the Noldo told them, and by then they were willing to nod 'aye' and watch as she opened the gate and strode in towards the wolves and the front door.
Now when she reached them, Helluin paused and engaged them eye to eye.
Greetings, grey hunters, t'would seem ye have found game.
We have, said the young female proudly.
We have found that this village is rife with small animals, her brother happily agreed.
There are no predators here and so such prey runs rampant, and we need no large game for we are not a pack, the wolf that Helluin had spoken with most said. We have come to share with our friend, 'Hareth the healer who is not to be eaten', though she is late arising.
I wager she shall be glad to have fresh meat, grey hunter. She hath spent many sunrises tending the folk of this town and craved a night's rest. I shall summon her.
My thanks, bright one, he said. What of these others, pray tell? They smell excited.
Ahhh, they merely react to seeing that which they have not seen aforetime and know not what else to do save gawk, Helluin told him. I wager they have never had wolves in the town.
The wolf nodded to her and lifted the dead rabbit carefully in his jaws, then fell in step beside the Noldo as she walked onto Hareth's front porch. There he sat, holding the rabbit whilst Helluin rapped on the door.
"Hareth, pray come forth," she called out, but already she had marked some soft sounds from within. Shortly later, the healer appeared at her door, bedraggled and still half-asleep.
"Helluin, what goes forth?" she asked, looking 'round at her yard in growing surprise.
"Thou hast visitors and more visitors," the Noldo said, "some who bring thee game and others who bring worries and suspicions. They deemed thee dead untimely, I fear, and would benefit from some reassurance as to thy continued life."
The healer grunted a 'hruuumph' and rolled her eyes seeing Magor and his friends outside her gate, and then looked down at the wolf sitting on her doorstep. He whined softly and dropped the rabbit at her feet. After a moment of shock, she knelt, looked him in the eyes, (though she could not trade thus with him in thought), and thanked him with words and a smile. To the utter astonishment of the three Men, he licked her face, causing her to laugh aloud.
Now when Hareth came to her gate, the rabbit hanging limp by its ears from one hand, she passed the two wolves in the yard, offering them smiles and softly spoken words of thanks and welcome. Helluin and the third wolf followed behind her but stopped beside the other two in the center of the yard.
"Magor, Brandir, Gundor, how fare ye this morn?" she asked as if 'naught was out of the ordinary.
"Well enough, now that we know thou art safe, ma'am," Gundor said, eyeing the rabbit and the wolves with a measure of confusion.
"So, ye have had no further discomfort and none in the town are newly stricken this morn?" Hareth asked, (as a healer might).
"Nay, none we know of," Brandir said, "though when I came from my home and saw wolves in thy yard, I feared the worst. I am glad to be wrong, but 'tis still unsettling to find them hither."
Hareth nodded seriously to him and said, "I had not expected them either, though I suppose I could do worse than finding that they have hunted a rabbit for me."
The three Men nodded but knew not what to say. Never aforetime had they heard tell of wolves providing game for a person. Even the hunters' hounds were not inclined to hunt on their own, only being helpful in tracking, driving, or retrieving prey during a hunt.
"Well, my friends, t'would seem I have tasks unexpected this morn ere I relieve Gilmith at the infirmary. I bid ye a fair morn and thank ye for your concern for my welfare," Hareth told them as she turned back to her yard. After a careful glance, she added over her shoulder, "Pray tell Ulbar I may have some feathers fit for his fletching."
The Men grumbled but bid her a fair morn in return and then took their leave with many a glance back over their shoulders as they drew off down the street. During their exchange, Helluin had spoken with the wolves.
So ye have decided to stay then? Helluin asked.
Aye, at least for now, bright one, the wolf she talked with most said. We shall remain through the winter. Our thanks for the suggestion.
We shall remain whilst the game lasts, the younger male said.
And whilst we retain the healer's welcome, the young female added.
I wish ye good fortune and good hunting then, Helluin said, giving them a nod of approval.
"I am not yet even fully awake and this has already been quite a peculiar day," Hareth said to Helluin as she walked up.
"Few would expect to adopt a trio of wolves, Hareth, but some days are like this when much unexpected betides," the Noldo replied, "and at least this is a good thing."
"So it seems to me as well," she said. "T'would seem I have a rabbit to dress this morn. Think thou that they shall be unhappy if I take some of the feathers from yonder pheasants?"
"I do not, for they have no further use for them. I wager thou shalt be called upon to remove the remains of many future meals lest thy yard become strewn with bones and pelts," she said.
"Ahhh well. The feathers shall serve the fletcher or my pillows and the pelts perhaps can be made into small pouches, hats, fur collars, and such. Waste not, want less, 'tis said."
"Indeed so and they shall find thee a kindred spirit in that," the Noldo said. "I return to Lord Dírhael's house, but for now, I wish thee a fair morn." She dipped her head to the healer and the wolves and took her leave.
Now upon her return to the lord's home, she found Dírhael and Ivorwen awake and breaking their fasts with the oatmeal and tea. They were seated in the armchairs before the hearth, each with a bowl and spoon, enjoying conversation 'twixt bites.
"Helluin," the lady said, turning at her entry, "I was surprised to find thee absent when I awoke. Has something happened?"
"Indeed so," the Noldo replied, saying silently to Ivorwen, I shall tell thee more later. "I went forth at some sounds of dismay and found Magor, Gundor, and Brandir gathered before Hareth's yard. They were upset at first, but I reckon they are mollified now as there was no threat. They had a scare, 'naught more than that."
"That is well then, and I am glad to hear that Magor is well enough to be concerned," Dírhael said. "They are all old friends."
"So how dost thou feel this morn, my lord?" Helluin asked, hoping to change the topic.
"I feel much improved, thank thee," he said. "I believe I was right in coming to Celenhár, for with your aid, my ladies, many here have been saved, myself amongst them. I could not ask for more and ye have my most heartfelt gratitude."
"'Tis a joy to see thee improved so, my lord, and we are glad to have been able to spare those in Forndun," Ivorwen said. "I have learnt much in coming hither and I feel that I should have traveled beyond the Angle long ago."
"Thou shalt ever be welcome to return hither," Dírhael said, offering her a smile that she returned.
"Come, Helluin. Break thy fast with us. There is oatmeal remaining for thee," Ivorwen said as she moved to ladle cereal from the cauldron and into the third bowl. She handed it to the Noldo with a spoon.
"Thank you, Ivorwen, some food would be welcome," Helluin said, taking the bowl and settling herself on a chair to the side of the fireplace. It seemed that all things had resolved and she could relax. The Noldo had taken three bites when the sound of someone pounding on Dírhael's door disrupted their contentment.
"Now what?" Dírhael asked no one in particular as he rose from his chair. He gestured for Helluin to remain seated and continue eating whilst he crossed the room to answer the summons.
The Noldo had just taken a mouthful of oatmeal when she heard the excited voice of Magor at the door loudly proclaiming that, "My lord, our healer is a witch!" She choked and sprayed the cereal 'cross the hearth.
Ivorwen had just started to pay heed to the conversation as a disbelieving Dírhael said, "Hareth, a witch? How can this be? She attended my illness and thine, and half the townsfolk besides. We have known her all our lives."
The heiress looked in shock from the door to Helluin, only to see the Noldo groan and shake her head, then stare at the ceiling. Oh, this is not good, not good at all, she thought. Helluin knows something. I need no foresight to mark that.
"My lord, Hareth consorts with wolves," said a second voice that Helluin recognized as Brandir. He then muttered softly, as if to himself, "If they are indeed wolves at all."
"She commands three wolves that act unnatural, as no real wolves should," finished the third of them, which was Gundor, of course. "Surely they are daemons, or familiars."
The heiress of the First House fixed the Noldo with a stare, silently demanding, What in Arda goes forth?
Our patients have elected to remain in town and have taken up with their only friend that resides in Forndun, Hareth the healer, Helluin answered. The trio at the door witnessed them lying in her yard after eating and then watched them gift her a rabbit that they had caught after she came from her home.
So then, this was the cause of the 'scare' they had and the 'sounds of dismay' thou went to investigate whilst we yet slept?
Helluin nodded 'aye', elaborating further on the topic by saying, At first, they were convinced the wolves had slain and eaten Hareth, and after discovering they had not, t'would seem they can only explain it by leaping to the conclusion of witchcraft.
The entire superstitious claptrap was 'nigh laughable, save that the three seemed to wholly believe it and were intent upon convincing their lord of it as well. 'Twas a local problem that the Noldo and the heiress might have laughed off 'neath other circumstances, but then came the final conclusion in the mental construct that Magor, Brandir, and Gundor had crafted for to ease their psyches.
"My lord, we all know Hareth well and for long, and so we can only suppose that she hath been laid 'neath some dark enchantment by the Elf." 'Twas Brandir who claimed thus, though t'would have mattered little which of them had given it voice.
"The Elf? Helluin? She is here with Ivorwen," Dírhael told them. "Pray come in and take counsel with us, for surely there is some less dramatic explanation."
To his credit, the lord sounded reasonable and calm, but not so his townsfolk.
"She is here?!" Magor fairly screeched.
"My lord, thou art in danger!" Brandir exclaimed.
"She shall ensorcell thee and we as well should we confront her conjuring," Gundor said, the fear evident in his voice. "We shall be left each with a trio of wolves to follow us 'til our dying days."
Oh for crying aloud, what a barrel of hogwash! Helluin silently exclaimed, loud enough for Ivorwen to wince in silence. Wherefrom would I get so many wolves? Yet she knew how such hysterical accusations could take on a life of their own.
"Helluin? Ivorwen, pray join me for a moment?" Dírhael said, turning to beckon them to the door. With a groan, the Noldo set her bowl of oatmeal aside and rose from her chair. Ivorwen joined her, a look of curiosity on her face. Alas, by the time they reached the door, the three Men had fled in terror. Dírhael and his guests watched them running away down the street as if wolves already dogged their steps.
"What a strange morn," Dírhael said, actually scratching his head. "I know not what to think of this. They are all friends and were previously of sound constitution. Could they have been bespelled?"
"No one is bespelled and Hareth is not a witch," Helluin said, hiding her aggravation with the excitable and superstitious trio. "If thou wouldst learn the truth of this, my lord, pray don some warm garments and accompany us to Hareth's home. All shall become obvious." Or at least I hope it shall.
Dírhael shrugged and nodded and then went to don his boots. When he had clothed himself in appropriate outerwear, Helluin led them from his house and down the street.
Shortly later, they came to Hareth's home and Helluin saw that 'naught had changed. The three wolves still lounged in the yard, the pile of feathers and the rabbit pelt still lay where they had aforetime, and only a thin stream of smoke from the chimney attested that the healer was awake and busy within. Helluin stopped them at the gate.
"'Twixt thou and they lies some history, my lord," Helluin told Dírhael. "Of the dead cart pony thy company left behind on the way to Celenhár, their pack ate, and so became afflicted with plague. Being the lowest ranked, they ate the least and thereby survived. They are the last of their pack and tracked thee hither, blaming thee for leaving behind tainted meat apurpose."
"They know me by scent and blame me for the murder of their pack?" Dírhael asked and Helluin nodded 'aye'.
"I have told them that thy company left the pony's carcass without intent of causing harm, for ye had a desperate errand and no resources to dispose of it," Helluin replied. "Still, if thou found the one who by negligence or intent had slain three generations of thy family, thou wouldst be hard pressed to forgive, I wager."
The lord nodded in understanding and said, "I would wish to question such a one long and deep 'til I knew all that had come to pass ere giving judgment."
"I believe such knowledge would aid them too in understanding what happened, my lord," Helluin agreed. "If thou wouldst have them understand, pray look into my eyes and open thy mind that I may share those memories with thee. Thy memories I can then share with them."
"Ósanwe," he said softly, "thou speak of Ósanwe." To this, Helluin nodded 'aye' and Dírhael continued, saying, "I have only heard of it, when I studied in Imladris years ago, along with my cousin Arador. Very well. I shall offer the mind-opening that we may share."
Now Lord Dírhael took a couple deep breaths as if to prepare himself for a dive into deep water, and then he squinted with the effort of his concentration and stared into Helluin's eyes. 'Twas all she could do to keep from bursting out laughing, so painfully earnest was he.
Pray relax, my lord, and when thou art ready, simply call thy memories to mind, he heard her say in his head. All he saw was the clear pure blue of a summer sky and he realized that she was waiting for him. He had no idea that she could have simply seized his mind and rifled through it like a thief through a desk drawer 'til she found what she wanted and took it.
Eventually he relaxed and his nervousness faded, and then he concentrated on the memories he hoped to share. Suddenly he was back, there on the road whilst both his companions yet lived.
With the dusk of 12 Yavannië, Dírhael, Halmir, and Borlach had come within three leagues of the Last Bridge on the Great East Road and all was far from well. The pony was flagging and had taken no food in the past three days. She plodded along ever more slowly, drawing the small dogcart as if t'were a blacksmith's wagon filled with sponge iron. Halmir had been leading her by the reins for the past two days lest she wander off the paving or simply stopped moving.
"'Tis no good, my lord," Borlach had said softly as they stood looking ahead towards the bridge. "Nana Híwon¹ is not long for this world and I am worried for Halmir as well. He hath been tending that pony for days and now he sweats as if with fever." ¹(Nana Híwon, Glue's Momma (lit. Mommy of Glue) = nana(mommy) + híw(adj. sticky) + -on(n. on adj. suff., something sticky, glue) By placing one noun before another, the second noun modifies the first as a genitive construction. Sindarin)
Dírhael had been trying to recall all that he remembered of the way as he had ridden it to Imladris in his youth, over four decades past. He had not gone to the Angle then, but he had marked the inn where they had spent the night two days ere crossing the Ford of Bruinen. Lore told that following the dirt track that branched off to the south eventually took one to Celenhár.
Now at Borlach's words, he looked carefully at Nana Híwon and Halmir who was removing her tack. Sadly, he had to agree about the pony. She was wobbling just standing still and showed no interest in the abundant fodder growing 'round their camp just off the road. Worse, she showed no interest in the small stream they had chosen the site for. He shook his head and reckoned she might not live 'til dawn. Halmir wiped his brow. The air was warm but their exertion had not been so hard as to set one to perspiring. His own brows creased in worry.
"If we must, we shall carry Halmir in the cart and draw it by hand. I would be sorry to leave the pony for she hath served well for many years," Dírhael said, "but I shall not leave one of our people."
Borlach nodded his head in agreement. He and Halmir were Rangers of the North, sworn to their chieftain's service and now tasked with protecting his nephew on a desperate quest. The two Rangers had been comrades through many skirmishes and had endured many hard patrols. Neither he nor his lord would leave a brother behind.
"I shall keep watch and keep an eye on him as well, my lord," Borlach said. "Pray get some sleep."
"My thanks, old friend. I shall take second watch. Pray wake me at midnight," Dírhael told him. Then, more softly, "I am sorry, I know ye are close."
To this, Borlach nodded in appreciation and then walked over to draw some rations from his pack that lay in the back of the pony cart. On the way, he traded words with Halmir, some jest that received a half-hearted chuckle, but no more. Unspoken 'twixt the lord and the Ranger had been that they would split this night's watches into two shifts rather than three.
Dírhael unshouldered his field pack and removed some rations for supper. He had chosen to carry it the past three days after marking the pony's worsening condition. Almost a week and a half on the trail had left it lighter than when they had left Forndun, but he had carried a pack many times. He had trained as a Ranger, as did well 'nigh all sons of noble birth, but as lord of a town, he walked no patrols these days.
When Borlach roused him for his watch, a glance at the stars showed 'twas an hour past midnight. The Man had let him sleep an extra hour. He shook his head but thanked him and asked the usual.
"How stands the night?"
"All is at peace, my lord," the Ranger reported, but Dírhael raised his brow in question to prompt him and cast a glance to where Halmir slept. "He rose two hours past supper and walked off a ways. I heard him retching. His breathing has been rough with a cough or two."
Dírhael closed his eyes a moment and sighed, then gave Borlach a nod and rose to his feet. He marked Nana Híwon lying on her side, wheezing and shivering in a troubled sleep and felt sorry for the animal, but there was 'naught that he could do for her. He took a position wherefrom he could survey the road in both directions and the softly rolling lands to the north and south, and then he settled down to his watch.
The night passed and the early hours of 13 Yavannië brought no new threats. An hour ere dawn, the pony gasped, jerked once, and then went rigid. 'Twas a death spasm as sure as any the lord had ever seen. Only slowly did her body relax, and she breathed no more after.
"My thanks for thy service Nana Híwon," he whispered. "I pray thee find thy way to wheresoever the spirits of noble beasts are gathered 'neath the care of the One."
Only shortly later, his attention shifted as Halmir half-woke making a choking sound. He rolled up onto his right elbow facing away from Dírhael, dry heaved, and then sank back down onto his back with a groan. Soon, he was asleep again, his breathing rough. The lord let both Rangers sleep 'til the sun was up.
"We must make haste to Celenhár," Dírhael whispered to Borlach as they broke their fasts. Halmir had refused to eat but had taken a little water.
"What of the pony?" the Ranger asked, glancing at the carcass.
"We must leave her behind. We have no time for a burial and no wood for a pyre. I am more concerned for Halmir," Dírhael said. "If there is a chance that he may be cured with Elvish medicine, that must be our priority."
To this, Borlach readily nodded in agreement. They had no time or resources to honor a fallen pony whilst the health of a Man hung in the balance. They could only move with haste and keep hope that they could save his life.
The quarter part of an hour later found Dírhael and Borlach pulling the dogcart east down the road as Halmir lay in the back. Four days hence, on the 17th, they arrived at Celenhár, but by then, Halmir was two days dead and Borlach was ailing. Beset with worry and dwindling hope, they had spared Nana Híwon no further consideration. Three nights past, a pack of wolves had feasted on the pony's carcass.
"That is what I remember," Dírhael said to Helluin after she blinked to end their contact.
"My thanks, lord, for the sharing of thy memories, and my sorrow for thy losses," Helluin said. "Pray await me hither whilst I share with the wolves."
He and Ivorwen nodded as Helluin opened the gate and strode 'cross the yard. The wolves had perked up at their approach and had been sniffing the air. Though they had not approached, they had obviously marked Dírhael, for their ears were lowered and their lips pulled back to expose their teeth. Ere she could speak to them, the elder wolf met her eyes.
Our thanks for bringing our enemy, bright one, he said, we have tracked him long and far and now justice shall be done and our pack avenged at last.
I shall eat his liver, the younger male claimed, licking his chops whilst his sister growled softly, low in her throat.
A moment's peace, I pray ye, grey hunters, Helluin said. I have seen his memories of the pony's death and deem there was no intent to harm any in leaving its carcass behind. I would have ye see what I have seen, for only then shall ye have the knowledge to judge truly.
The trio of hunters regarded her for some moments 'til finally the elder male nodded 'aye'. Then they sat calmly and waited for her to share.
Now as Ivorwen and Dírhael watched, Helluin and the wolves stared at each other eye to eye and the silence stretched on for a time greater than he had spent staring eye to eye with her. They seemed to be paying heed to the Noldo with their full attention and perhaps they engaged in some debate. As they waited, Ivorwen admitted that she and Helluin had cured the three, for they had arrived sick with plague.
When at last the Noldo blinked and they broke from their silent council, she drew a deep breath as one relieved and they lay down shaking their heads as if bewildered. At least their edginess had vanished, and it seemed that their ill will had faded.
"Lady Ivorwen, Lord Dírhael, pray join me, for still we must take counsel with Hareth regarding these charges of witchcraft," Helluin said. She then walked to the door and rapped on its panels with her knuckles.
"T'would seem that Helluin is confident that thy trial before the wolves is resolved and thou shalt not be attacked, my lord," Ivorwen said, the hint of a grin shaping her lips.
"That is well, for I should hate to have my liver ripped out whilst bearing to my grave a grudge against a dead pony," he said, returning her grin.
He was still nervous when they came abreast of the wolves, but they let him pass unharmed and the pair came to join the Noldo at the healer's door. They had scarcely stepped up onto the porch when the door opened and Hareth appeared, wearing a bloody apron, a boning knife in her hand. She regarded them with a quizzical expression.
"My lord, I am gladdened by thy recovery, but a visit was not required," she said after offering Dírhael a restrained curtsy, a 'nigh comical affectation as she stood in bloodied garb brandishing a knife.
"I too am gladdened by my recovery, but we have other cause for our visit, Hareth," Dírhael said. "May we impose upon thee and take counsel together? I fear that the appearance of thy friends has whelped a panic and some now deem thee a witch." He cast a quick glance over his shoulder to the wolves as the healer squinted at him in confusion.
"Me? A witch? Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha," Hareth exclaimed, laughing at the absurdity of the notion. Then her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she tallied two and two. "This is Magor, Brandir, and Gundor's doing, is it not? My lord, I know they have long been thy friends, but come, they are not the brightest stars in the night."
Dírhael groaned and with a nod acknowledged all the healer had said.
"They appeared at my home claiming thou consort with wolves and that these behaved in such an unnatural fashion as to appear daemonic or enchanted to them," he said.
"My lord, they had expected me to be dead and eaten when they saw the wolves in my yard and were then nonplussed upon my appearance alive," Hareth said. "I can only imagine their disappointment. As for the wolves, they are simply wolves without a home or a pack, not some supernatural creatures. They are too few to hold a range and so they have nowhere else to go."
"My lord, I wager that Magor, Brandir, and Gundor would deem any outcome unnatural save Hareth being attacked and eaten, for that is all they know or can expect of wolves," Helluin said.
Dírhael nodded, but though he was satisfied, he knew his people.
"I wager most of the town knows no more and can expect no more of wolves for they all share the same lore," he said. To this, Helluin and Hareth groaned at the same time.
"My lord, what is the usual outcome of accusations of witchcraft?" Ivorwen asked, having never aforetime traveled beyond the Angle.
"The usual outcome, my lady? There is 'naught usual about accusations of witchcraft. I cannot recall any in my lifetime," Dírhael admitted, shaking his head at how strange the morn had become. "Indeed, I cannot recall the outcome of any such case in lore either."
Ivorwen nodded to the lord and looked to the Noldo.
"In all thy years, hast thou ever encountered a serious case of witchcraft, Helluin?"
"Of course, and more than once," the Noldo said. "I recall Queen Berúthiel of Gondor, spouse and regent of King Tarannon Falastur whom I met in T.A. 870. She was from the south, come of the Black Númenórean people for a political marriage, and shared 'naught in common with her king, including an heir. Whilst he was most oft upon the sea, she ruled in his stead and the folk of Gondor came to mistrust and finally to revile her as a witch, which I deem she was not.
In Osgiliath, she decorated the palace with a peculiar sense of taste that upset many. She was also plagued by allergies, some of which I wager were fabricated, and she kept many cats. In particular, there was a white cat that had her ear, and that during an exorcism I revealed it to be a familiar of Sauron. The people believed that she sent it to spy upon them, but I deem its purpose was to sew distrust 'twixt the people and the monarchy. Eventually, King Tarannon banished Berúthiel and her cats by ship and I have never heard tell of her fate after.
More recently, I encountered the witch Godlic, her granddaughter Lofain, and her mule, Mul. 'Twas in Rohan during the Long Winter in 2759. Godlic engaged in much prophecy and was an aid to Helm King's cause.
I learnt of the Shieldmaiden Agrona that she was known upon a time to Eorl the Young and her house on stilts stood then where I saw it two and a half centuries later. She gave succor to Princess Heorte and Lord Fréaláf and helped me unravel the mysterious disappearance of Lady Nimrodel. As an old herb woman she appeared, yet she had been long dead when I met her, or perhaps she was the fána of one greater. I know not. The Rohirrim regarded her as a witch, but without condemnation."
"I ken not how this is any help at present," Hareth said, shaking her head.
"Being so different from the present, I do not see any value in those experiences either," Helluin said. Dírhael and Hareth groaned at that. "Each case is different. We are far more likely to be confronted by a terrified mob than the judgment of a king or the vanishing of a house and a mule." This time, Ivorwen joined Hareth and Dírhael in groaning.
"I shall explain all things to them, from the loss of the pony to the appearance of the wolves, to the true and rational reasons for the phenomenon that has so discomforted the townsfolk," Dírhael said. "I am their lord. They shall hearken and heed me."
He was confident in his ability to reduce his peoples' tensions and his logic was faultless and non-confrontational. It seemed the best solution to all involved 'til he added, "Hareth, pray lead thy wolves hence and we shall meet them in the town hall. Helluin, Ivorwen, I would have your aid as well so that all parties may be seen and heard."
Helluin and Ivorwen nodded in acceptance and Hareth said, "I am stewing a rabbit. Pray allow me a moment to take it from the fire and change into some presentable garments."
"That seems…prudent," Dírhael said, marking her blood-streaked apron and the knife she had been waving about for emphasis.
Whilst they waited on the healer, Helluin spoke briefly to the wolves.
We beg your aid, grey hunters, she said. The excitable three who came this morn have spread rumors of witchcraft and suspect that Hareth has enchanted ye, and they believe I have enchanted their lord. He hath suggested that we meet with the townsfolk at the hall and explain the truths behind the appearance of ye behaving as they do not believe wolves are wont.
They believe Hareth is a witch and think thou hast bespelled their lord? the eldest wolf asked.
Helluin nodded 'aye' and the wolf rolled his eyes.
We are not bespelled and Hareth is not a witch. We shall come, he said.
My thanks…Helluin began to reply.
And we shall bite them if they try to harm her, the young female interrupted.
And I shall eat their livers, her brother said, and Helluin groaned.
'Twas the better part of an hour after Magor, Brandir, and Gundor had fled their lord's door when Dírhael led Helluin, Ivorwen, Hareth, and the three wolves into the center of town. Before the hall had congregated the better part of the folk of Forndun. It seemed the three Men had been busy spreading accusations and alarm and the people, after long weeks of fear and worry during the plague, had reacted with more fear and worry. Helluin deemed it fortunate that they had not armed themselves ere gathering, yet she moved to stand before Ivorwen just in case.
Dírhael came to a halt a few fathoms from the mob and spread his arms.
"Ye all know me, and I would offer ye the truth of what a few here have seen," he began, "and though they have seen some things that are difficult to believe are normal, these events all have reasons and causes that any can understand. Pray hearken to me now that ye may be comforted."
Then the background of grumbling and comments stilled and silence held sway as the people waited on their lord's words. As he had said they would, they paid him heed.
"Magor, Brandir, and Gundor, my old friends, ye have seen three wolves at rest in Hareth's yard after they had hunted small game. They were resting, as wolves are wont following a successful hunt and feast. Do we not do the same ourselves?"
At his words, there came many nods and a few comments of agreement.
"They came to Forndun tracking my scent, for when I went with Halmir and Borlach to Celenhár seeking a cure for the plague, our cart pony Nana Híwon sickened and died on the road ere we came to the bridge over Hoarwell. We left her body where she fell, for we needed to make haste as Halmir had already taken ill.
After we were gone, a pack of wolves must have found the carcass and eaten of it, and so they too were taken with the plague. These three are the last of that pack, and they came hither seeking revenge, believing that we had left tainted meat with the malign intent of killing them. They were sick when they arrived, but Helluin cured them with the same serum she hath used to cure many of ye."
That made many whisper in surprise, that the Elf would cure wolves of plague, or that the wolves would allow it. The notion of animals taking medicine was not wholly strange to them though, for they gave liniments to horses and cows; they had just never considered trying to heal a wolf.
"Since then, they have come to understand the truth of what happened, of how being desperate to seek a cure for Halmir, we left the dead pony behind. Alas that their pack came upon it, for they deserved not such a fate.
Now after they were cured, they met Hareth, for as a healer, she was curious about the recovery of patients so different from her own. Of Helluin, she learnt of their treatment and of their plight, for as the last three survivors of their pack, they have not the numbers to hold their original hunting range."
Dírhael cast a glance from face to face and saw that the people hearkened and understood. Many met his eyes and nodded their acceptance of his words. He offered them a small smile in return and nods of acknowledgement ere he continued.
"Winter comes, and though to Men these lands look open and wide, 'tis a patchwork of territories that none of us can see. Other packs of wolves hold these lands and would drive hence any that hunted upon them save their own. And so these three have appealed to Hareth, their only friend in town, to abide in her yard and repay her kindness with game.
I know 'tis a surprise to find such an accord 'twixt Men and wolves and in normal times t'would not be necessary, yet 'neath the One, life finds a way. My friends, there is 'naught dark or fell in this, no witchcraft and no conjuring. In terms of mutual benefit, what some have seen is indeed more natural than some other possible outcomes, for now none are threatened and all may survive."
"But shall they not endanger our livestock?" someone shouted from the crowd.
"They have no need of large animals for they are only three," Helluin told them.
"Might they not turn upon us if they grow hungry during the winter when game is not so plentiful?" another shouted out and 'round him a few nodded for this had ever been their fear of wolves.
"Wolves seldom attack Men for they have learnt that Men oft go armed," Helluin said. "They encounter hunters in the Wild and know there is easier prey. Every hunter, whether on two legs or four, weighs the danger of the hunt against the rewards of success. The true count of Men attacked by wolves is few, I wager."
Then there were some reluctant nods of agreement, for it had been many years since the last wolf attack that they were sure of.
"But how can Hareth trust in them," asked Brandir, "and when has anyone heard of wolves hunting for Men?"
Then there were mutterings and comments of agreement, for none knew of any lore that told of wolves hunting for Men. Indeed, there was no such lore. Their own dogs only aided them in hunts and hunted not on their own, bringing back kills to their masters unbidden. To this question, even Helluin had no answer and the silence emboldened the doubters.
"What about my children?" a woman cried out from the rear of the crowd. "They are small and bear no weapons! They would be helpless before hungry wolves!"
Then a cacophony of similar fears were voiced with increasing alarm, for there were many parents and grandparents in the town.
"And how shall a child know a wolf from a hound? They might come 'nigh in hope of playing thinking, good doggy, ere the wolf tears out their throat and drags them back to Hareth's yard to gorge!"
Then, as the fears of the people and their terror of the wolves grew, more shouts came and the concerns became more unrealistic as threat led to threat in the imaginations of the townsfolk. Any reasoning Dírhael had proposed vanished amidst their superstition and visceral dread.
"By Yule half our children shall lie dead in the healer's yard!"
"The daemon wolves shall slip through doors and windows and kill us in the night!"
"By spring, few of us shall be left alive, with the last huddling in terror of their ravening!"
"I have heard that a wolf can eat three times its weight in meat each day!"
"I have heard that they sleep not, stalking 'aught that moves by night or day! We shall never again be safe in our homes!"
"With plentiful meat they shall breed like rabbits. By summer next there shall be hundreds!"
"The Fire of Udûn is in their eyes and the Hounds of Morgoth can kill with a glance when the moon is full!"
"When the moon is full, some become Werewolves as of old! We shall be tormented like thralls in Angband renewed!"
The crowd grew more agitated by the moment and their imaginations ran wild with horrifying possibilities gleaned from childhood tales and the hints found in ancient lore or nightmares. One fantasy led to another darker still 'til all semblance of reason was lost.
"We have been bespelled, lulled by dark conjuring to even consider this as 'aught but the direst of threats!" 'twas Magor who shouted that, returning the subject of witchcraft to the forefront.
"Hareth and the Elf are witches!" Gundor shouted. "They have enchanted Dírhael, using him as a puppet to gain our confidence! They shall share in feasting on the flesh of our children!"
T'would seem our parley is a failure, Helluin told Ivorwen in silence eye to eye, ahhh well.
Think thou that we are in danger? the heiress asked, wide eyed as she watched the mob.
Oh yes, their only hope for their own safety and the safety of their children is to kill us all, the Noldo told her, shaking her head. I wager they shall charge against us at any moment now.
"My people…how could they?" Dírhael said in sorrow and shock.
"My lord, this mob has lost its mind and we shall needs flee. If there is 'aught thou require from thy home, pray spend no more than the count of one hundred within," Helluin told him. "We shall meet thee at Hareth's."
Helluin met the eyes of the wolves and told them, Pray accompany Hareth to her home. Bite any that threaten her. She cast her glance to the younger pair and said, Ye may share their livers.
To Ivorwen and Hareth she said, "Go to Hareth's home and prepare to leave. Go now, and I shall hold them back. Waste no time."
"Get the witches!" someone screamed, and others took up the words as a chant.
A cobble dug from the street whizzed past the healer's head and another came at the Noldo, but she ducked it easily. At that moment, the door of the town hall opened and Gilmith looked out in astonishment at the ugly confrontation.
"Hareth, what of the last seven patients?" she asked when she marked her mentor with Ivorwen and three wolves. That was a shock. The mob had just begun to charge as Dírhael slipped away.
"'Tis up to thee!" Hareth told her apprentice. "Thou art the healer of Forndun now!" And with that, she fled towards her home with Ivorwen beside her and the wolves bringing up the rear.
Now only three fathoms separated Helluin from the front of the mob, and ere they could close further or fling more cobbles, she burst into a blazing ril of Light. Those at the front were temporarily blinded and fell to the ground, trying to protect their eyes. The vast majority behind them stared in horror at the Noldo's sorcery and so she captured them and held them thrall. They froze in place, no longer in control of their bodies.
Everyone 'round ye are witches and they shall eat your livers and your children's livers, she informed them, and then began counting to one hundred. Her voice had come unfiltered into their minds and superstitious lot that they were, they believed every word.
When, at the count of ninety-six, Helluin saw Dírhael fleeing his house with a bow and quiver over his shoulder, a pack on his back, and the scabbard of his sword slapping against his thigh, she blinked and released the mob. She tarried only long enough to hear them begin to denounce and accuse each other and then she took off running ere they commenced to fighting. I wager Gilmith shall be well occupied in her new post, she thought.
By the time they reached Hareth's house, the Noldo was pacing Dírhael stride for stride. Ivorwen and the healer had gone inside to snatch up a few necessities, but the wolves were standing guard at the gate growling as they watched the town for any approaching threat.
"My lord, aid the women but make haste. I shall clear our camp," Helluin shouted to him, and then sped on uphill.
At their camp, she retrieved her travel bag, bow and quiver, along with Ivorwen's backpack, from the tent. Then she pulled up the tent stakes and grabbed the bottom edge, upending it and dumping the remaining contents out of the tent's flap and onto the ground. The basins, funnels, and measure she discarded, but kept the tent in case of inclement weather on the road. After tossing the tent poles and stakes inside, she folded it in half and then rolled it up, binding it thus with one of its support lines so that 'twas like a large sausage of waxed canvas.
Ivorwen, Dírhael, and Hareth ran up with the wolves jogging alongside, eager for further excitement whether livers were involved or no. The lord was still saddened by the turn of events, whilst Hareth was simply in shock at the rabid change in her neighbors. Brandir lives next door, for crying aloud, she thought. Amazed at the way all things had run out of control so swiftly, Ivorwen saw the tent struck, shouldered her pack and asked after their plan.
"Whither now, Helluin? I reckon we shall not tarry?"
"Indeed not, for this mob would have our livers and our kidneys should they catch us," the Noldo said. "Let us pass 'round the north of the Weather Hills and then southeast to the East Road. In a fortnight or so we shall be safe in Celenhár." She was only worried about outpacing the mob during the first couple of days and how the Laiquendi would regard the wolves. Only three wolves…they are not a pack after all, she thought in denial.
Behind them came the shouts and screams of a violent free-for-all as Forndun degenerated into chaos with all the strife and din of an Orc lair. Ere they passed out of sight 'round the foothills, a column of smoke was rising as fire joined the frenzy in the town. Helluin shook her head at the pathos of it all, but she marked the dejected, defeated look on Dírhael's face and came to offer him some comfort.
"How long shall they go on thus, pray tell?" he asked her.
"Probably no more than a day," the Noldo said hopefully, but without certainty. "After the sleep of exhaustion takes them, I wager they shall awaken wondering what came to pass."
"They shall remember 'naught of it?" he asked in disbelief.
"Not exactly," Helluin hedged. "They shall likely recall fighting, but they may be uncertain of why. I wager that eventually, they shall create sensible reasons and a comforting tale to explain it all. Is that not ever the way with history?" The question was intended to be rhetorical.
Dírhael sighed. He had accepted such lore as he had learnt because he knew of no one that could gainsay it. 'Twas easier to allow that some histories were perhaps incomplete rather than being outright fabrications. Still shocked by how badly the morn had gone, he knew doubt. He gave Helluin a questioning glance, but she merely shrugged and continued walking.
"But, they shall recover?" he persevered hopefully as he chased after her.
"I deem they shall, though perhaps if prompted, they shall also be subject to relapses."
"Relapses?"
"Confronted by wolves or witches, they may experience some backsliding," Helluin allowed.
That night they camped cold, lighting no fire lest any that had given chase from Forndun might espy them. Their precaution proved unnecessary.
In the town of North Hill, people still fought by moonlight and starlight, by torchlight and the light of a few burning buildings. They were desperate, wholly persuaded that they fought for their lives, each of them surrounded by witches that would slay their children and eat their livers. In this, Helluin's 'suggestion' had been so closely in accord with their own beliefs that they were predestined to embrace it whole-heartedly and far in excess of the Noldo's expectations.
'Twas 'nigh dawn ere the last of them collapsed from exhaustion and lay still, heaving for breath in the street. Most had already fled, to barricade themselves in their homes and sit with makeshift weapons close to hand and eyes riveted to their doors 'til fatigue overcame their fear and they slept.
To Be Continued