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Trouble on the Wind
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The gusts blew cold and fierce through the hills of the north country. In through the front door of a fine-wrought large wooden house entered its residents: a family of three with some of their servants, bustling in together in a hurry they turned to shove the door closed against the blustering force pushing against it. They lowered the bar and caught their breath, the door still rattling against its frame, as they set down their bundles of firewood and unwrapped themselves from their coats and scarves and hats.
"Well!" said the lady. "That takes care of the last of them. Let us hope they do not freeze in their pens out there."
"They will be well enough," said her husband. "Animals are better suited to enduring such conditions."
"Yes, mother," said a third, a boy nearing though not quite started his coming of age. "They have thicker flesh, and more hair!"
She laughed. "Truly, young lord," she said.
"They also have the shelter we have given them," added his father. "It would need to get far colder, I think, before we need worry."
The winds continued to howl outside as the family and their helpers got about their business inside: the fires and the sharpening and the chopping and the cooking. But over the evening meal the lady sat quiet in disturbed thought. "This wind bodes ill I fear," she said. "There are cries of woe on it, I can feel it."
The lord looked thoughtfully at her. She seemed to have a gift for foresight, as many of the women among his people did. Her words at times belied her age, for the strong features of her fair face still looked quite young, but she would speak of such things like the aged among revered seers. But part of him felt the same foreboding, though he was reluctant to admit so, even to himself, for life had been pleasant and peaceful up here in the cool airs of the pine covered hills for a long while. "Please, lady," he said, "let us not trouble our people with thoughts of war without cause. We would not wish to stir an upset of panic."
"But neither would we wish to be caught unawares by attack," she replied.
He smiled. "But we remain ever vigilant, do we not?" he replied. "Watches are kept, and training and equipment maintained. We need not worry further than that, for such things may be needless weights on the spirit."
She had no answer, and they finished their meal in silence. Most of the servants had by now been dismissed and retreated to their quarters, some to elsewhere in the house and some through the backway into small cottages nearby. After the cleaning up the family set into various casual habits of arts and letters in the evening. Finally it grew late, and they let the fire die down and turned in for the night.
But the crying gale outside kept them up most of the night, and none could achieve greater than a light doze and not for very long. As the coldest hour approached deepest into the night the lady lay awake, staring at the ceiling lost in thought. Then hidden in the roaring of the wind she perceived something else. There were no sights or sounds, but in the back of her mind she felt a presence somewhere out in the woods of the hills. Slowly her mind came out of its wandering and grew more alert to her surroundings. Nothing still could she yet hear or see, but then there indeed was something to notice. A smell. It was quite faint and nearly imperceptible at first, and took some time before she could even put a name to it. But at last it grew unmistakable. Smoke.
She jumped out of bed and cracked open the window shutters. The wind had finally begun to settle back down, so now she detected more readily the scent of fumes drifting upon it from some acrid flame very far away. There no moon tonight by which to glimpse aught in the dark, but in the distance through the woods the lady thought she perceived movement. Her husband had now stirred, and sensing trouble afoot he fetched his weapon on his way to her side at the window, and peered out the space between the shutters also. Not far from the house they could see a few moving figures somewhat clearly. Four legs. The lord put a hand on her shoulder. "Just deer in the night," he said, going back to the rack on the wall to set away his sword.
The lady sighed. "But why are they so stirred at such an hour? It is far from dawn." But she had relaxed somewhat, resigned to return to bed, still pondering the strange scent in the air. Less wholesome smelling than the evening fires of the shepherds among their people who roamed the hills at times, she thought, for which it was both the wrong time of year and the wrong time of night. The window faced northeast, and she paused to glance back out over the descent of wooded hills toward the sparsely-treed fields in the distance. The lady pointed. "Nay," she said, "Look!"
He came back over and searched in the direction to which she had pointed, and indeed as his eyes had adjusted more to the darkness of the landscape at night he noticed more movement. A large mass it looked to be - many moving at once. The lady turned to step toward the wall where they kept an array of weapons stored, but he clasped her shoulder again. "It is not the enemy I think," he said. "See there? Little flashes of pale blue. Those are the lanterns of our friends."
"But from what could so many be fleeing in the middle of the night?" she asked anxiously.
"I cannot say," he replied gravely, shaking his head in dismay and fear over the scale of trouble that could be following the approaching travelers, and what it may portend for his people. "But they are far off yet; they should not reach us before daylight. Let us try to rest while we can, for there may be great trouble brewing indeed. We will awake early and prepare ourselves to receive them and their news."
So they shuttered the windows and returned to the bed. But neither could accomplish even a light doze, and both had abandoned hope of any more sleep well before dawn. By now the smell of smoke was a bit stronger, and though it was still dark out the rest of the house and all the neighbors were already stirring as well. The lord and lady were the leaders of the folk in that region, and when they had bundled up they went outside and wandered a short ways to a spot from where a good view could be had of the wooded lowlands leading up to their realm in the hills. The mass of movement was closer now, and they caught clearer glimpses of the little elven lanterns that flashed in the darkness as it faded toward morning, as they were every so often uncovered and recovered by their bearers as they went. Their son and some of their friends and neighbors came to join in their watch.
"What do you suppose such a movement means?" asked one man.
"Nothing good, I am certain of it," said the lady. "The air smells of war."
Her lord shook his head in worry. "Yes," he agreed. "We must prepare ourselves, my friend. I fear we may soon need to lay aside our tools for tending and herding and leave our contentment to memory."
Then they all turned their attention to the morning's chores - albeit a bit too early, and preparing such provisions for comfort and healing as might be called for. Soon the first of the migrants began to arrive, and shortly told their story.
From high up along the line of hills far to their north, they said, those who were on watch in the elven realms there had beheld a mighty tempest of fire sweep down the broad plains from the enemy's lair like a rolling seawave of red light in the darkness. Right to the feet of the hills it flowed up over the lands, surrounding home and hill like the surf to the mounds of sand on the beach set by the play of small children. The mortal shepherds who roamed the plains beyond the pine highlands were overwhelmed by the flame, and all were assumed to have perished, with not a few friends among the Sindar and the Noldor along with them. The most farsighted of the night watch had spied the hordes of enemy hosts marching toward them in the distance, and their lords Angrod and Aegnor bid most to head southward as they could, to shepherd and guard the families in their flight. But those lords along with their stoutest knights and a larger part of their armies stayed behind to face the enemy and slow their advance. The fire meanwhile had managed to follow the refugees through the woods, now burning low and creeping over the blackening lands like a glowing ribbon tumbling along the ground in the breeze. It scorched grass and trunk and rock as it went, driving many animals from their homes along with them.
The lord of the mortal folk here in this region of the hills - a scattering of villages and sprawl of homes and shepherds connected by kinship - was swiftly stirred to arms in wrath and valor. "I should head north, we must help our friends, if our lands here would not soon be overtaken."
"Nay, lord," replied one of the refugees. "There will be no need. Our families we plan to send southward to Doriath, with those among the Sindar who are willing to guide them, to plead with the king and queen there for safe harbor. The rest of us plan to head west, to find the kin of our lords, and gather to them for the defense of the passes, with time to prepare the ordering of the battlefield. There it would be wiser to go, if you would help your friends among the Noldor."
Then the elves stayed there a short while to rest and wait for those mortals who desired to join them. Meanwhile the mortal Men of fighting age who lived nearby began packing their things and preparing the baggage mules and ponies. The lord's son came to him. "Take me with you, father! I am come of age soon. And in height and skill do I not match my elders near enough?"
The man looked at the boy, already tall indeed at his young age. He tussled his son's his crop of dark sandy hair, then clasped his shoulder. "And in strength of arms as well, my son," he replied. "But some must stay here and defend our families."
The boy's gaze fell, downcast toward the ground as his spirits sank in disappointment. The man smiled with pity at his son. "You would not leave our fair women and innocent young children alone and defenseless?"
"But they are not defenseless," his son countered. "Mother is brave and weapons-trained, is she not? Other women among our people are learned also."
The father looked with gentle scolding at his son. "Yes," he said, "but we should not leave defense of our homeland entirely to those already much occupied with tending the needs of the youngest and most vulnerable."
"Then why do we not all stay here to defend it?"
"Because our friends need our help, and mother will need yours. Fear not! There will likely be enemies straying too close for comfort ere long. Like as not you will face fights of your own here. But be not too eager for great deeds in battle," he added. "Often a man meets many such chances in his life, and may count himself fortunate if he does not regret the outcome of all of them. Please son, you and your other young friends are needed here. I am entrusting you with the protection of our home lands." The young man, still reluctant, accepted his charge, and gave a sad and still little bow in reply.