Mersday, 30th of Rethe, Year 1418 Shire-reckoning
The Rift of Nurz Ghashu, Somewhere in the Land of Angmar
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| The Rift of Nurz Ghashu |
"Maerchiniath and his lieutenants are busy trying to arrange for the evacuation of Gath Forthnir," Gaelira said as she updated us on the latest developments. "His scouts are already spying out the roads southward, for it will be along that way these folk must flee ere Guloth is able to send his newfound strength against them."
"And what of us?" asked Nephyn. "Shall we not flee with them?"
"It seems to me there might be little else we can do," I said, downcast.
"Bah!" huffed Drodie from where he sat casually leaning up against the stone walls of the cavern. "If these people wish to flee then let them. I say we should remain here! If we are so certain that Guloth will attack this place then we know where to find him, and we ought to prepare him a proper welcome, if you ask me."
"Guloth will only send his armies to Gath Forthnir; he himself will not come," said Gaelira. "He seeks -- he apparently has always sought -- control of Carn Dum and all the force of arms that comes with it. Maerchiniath was right: Guloth cannot hope to command those disparate forces all in a day and we must not be idle in the meantime."
"What, then, are you suggesting?" asked Nephyn warily. "You don't mean to say we should try to attack him by re-entering Carn Dum?"
"No. I think we have neither the numbers nor the means to succeed in such a venture, and in any case I do not think Guloth will remain sheltered there. He must solidify his new realm by declaring himself the new ruler of Angmar, and doing so will require him to show himself to many of his would-be servants as proof that their loyalties should now lie with him. In the meantime, we must do what we can to limit the reach of his power. I have thought of a way we might do this, but it may be quite perilous."
"Go on," I said, not really wanting to hear more.
"When we defeated Mordirith, Guloth spoke of leading his armies to crush the Free Peoples of the North and that he would begin by enslaving the demon which lies to the east. While you all slept, I reached deep into my memory and recalled some rumours I heard long ago about how a great battle was once fought in these wastelands -- a battle between several Messengers of the West and a... a terror out of the Elder Days. Unless I miss my guess, I believe Guloth intends to somehow awaken and, if he can manage it, control or at least ally with this being."
"If we were to reach the prison or resting place of this creature first then perhaps we could despoil Guloth's plot," said Drodie, as he slowly becoming more interested in our strategizing.
"Yes, so I hope," Gaelira answered. "I do not think we would wish to encounter or attempt to defeat this thing directly, but it may be we shall find some way to ensure Guloth cannot reach it, and so rob him of one of his most potent weapons during his time of greatest vulnerability. Until he takes full command of Angmar he will remain only one foe with a few devoted, albeit very dangerous, followers. The more damage we can do to him during this time the better hope we have."
"But where is this demon of which the wraith-lord spoke?" I asked quietly. "The east is a bit vague, don't you think? Any ideas on that?"
"That is of no real concern to us," came Gaelira's reply, "For you, and all of us, have already been to the place." Her words hung ominously on the air and I think Drodie, Nephyn, and I all had the same vision form in our minds. I saw a wide valley surrounded by black, sharp-edged mountains, and in the very centre there lay that massive disk of stone with the jagged cleft running deep toward its midpoint. I swallowed hard as a surge of fear covered me like a wave. Gaelira nodded as she studied our faces.
"The Rift of Nurz Ghashu," she said. "It is my hope that we will find a way to seal it without actually going inside, but I can make no promises without seeing the place itself again." No one spoke.
"I do not wish to go back to that place," said Drodie. "But go I will if it means we can upset that wretched Guloth and his wee little plans. No Dwarf appreciates being played for a fool, and this Dwarf has a score to settle on that account."
"I also do not wish to return there," said Nephyn quietly, though her voice was steady and thoughtful. "But our coming to Angmar has brought little more than grief and ruin upon the few good people who still dare to dwell and fight here. I will not dishonour their efforts by abandoning them in this, their most desperate hour. I will follow your lead, Gaelira."
"And I," I chimed in, "Admit to being mortally afraid of that valley, but I, too, will go."
"Then it is settled," said Gaelira with a look on her face that might have been relief. "Let us collect our belongings, ready ourselves, and say farewell to Maerchiniath ere we depart. Be certain to take as much provender and other supplies as you can manage, for it is not assured we shall be able to return here, once and if our new mission is accomplished."
My hands trembled as I worked to gather our foodstuffs in preparation to leave. The thought of that evil valley filled all my mind at first, but gradually other thoughts began to crowd their way in. It was then I realized that Gaelira was examining our medicinal stores, which were (as they always were) in my backpack.
"Gaelira," I asked in a low voice. "If Guloth is going to be looking for this, erm, demon just as we are -- you don't... you don't suppose there's any chance we might run into him there, do you?"
"I think the chance is slim," she said, her eyes on her task. "It is certainly possible I grant you, but I am gambling on the likelihood that Guloth will spend at least some time trying to establish his claim to rule Angmar first, before he sets out on this more private errand. And so much the better, for I really have no idea how to stop him from entering that chasm. I only hope we can discover one when we get there. Or perhaps we might think up a plan while we are on our way."
"That doesn't sound so hopeful," I said. "Still, I haven't any better ideas. Isn't there anyone we could look to for help? What about these folk here?" Gaelira shook her head.
"The Rangers and the others who dwell in Gath Forthnir must look to their own defences first," she replied. "There are many here who are not warriors, and their safety must be the priority. Moreover, we ourselves, who go willingly back into the darkness, will eventually require some safe haven to which we might repair -- whether in victory or in defeat. Now more than ever do I begrudge the absence of Malkan, our eagle-friend, for word of what has transpired here should be sent to both Mallacai and to Lord Elrond with the very greatest speed. I would give a good deal to know what has become of him and why he has been away so long."
"As would I," I admitted. "But I should also like to know about... about Lagodir. Is there any hope for him, Gaelira?" The Elf stopped working a moment and sighed.
"I cannot say," she said. "I have never delved into the arts of necromancy, for obvious reasons, and so I know nothing of the perverted rituals used against our friend. Would that Elrond were here! But he is not, and we have to consider the possibility that Lagodir might be forever lost to us, Padryc. We must be prepared to do whatever is necessary to stop Guloth, if that be the case."
"But... but..." I stammered as tears began to pool in my eyes. "How can that be? Lagodir can't just disappear, can he? I mean, what happened to him? Where is he? The way I see it, two things can't occupy the same space at the same time, if you understand me. It's just not sense." Gaelira looked at me thoughtfully.
"Perhaps there is wisdom in your words, my friend," she said. "At the least, let us remember them and hope! For myself, though, I am curious as to why Guloth held his sword-arm the way he did following Mordirith's defeat. Did you notice?" I thought back to the day before, recalling that terrible scene when Lagodir struck down the Steward of Angmar only to reveal himself as Guloth, returned. It was then that awful, ruthless white glaze had covered Lagodir's eyes and his face became like death. I shuddered internally and forced myself to concentrate on the details Gaelira had pointed out.
"I remember," I said after a brief pause. "Yes, I remember from the moment he had defeated Mordirith, Guloth gripped the hilt-shard of Lagodir's broadsword as though his fist were made of iron and he kept that arm pressed hard against his side. But what do you think it means?"
"I am not certain, so I will say nothing at present," the Elf replied, "But I wonder if Guloth might have made a critical oversight in his eagerness to depose his rival. One day we shall see, perhaps, but in the meantime we have other tasks to which we must set our minds. I would advise you to refill our meager stores of athelas from the quartermaster here before we leave, Padryc."
I did as I was told, and a short time later the four of us were gathered near the entrance of Gath Forthnir. There was no assemblage of Free Folk to see us off this time, for the people were working feverishly to salvage whatever they could from their refuge before abandoning it. But Maerchiniath was there and, though our goodbyes were brief, they were heartfelt.
"May fortune favor you all, my brave warriors," the Ranger-captain said with a sly wink in my direction. "It may be too much to hope for, but I shall ever look to the horizon at the ending of each day, wishing to see you appear there so that we might share a warm hearth together one more time." We all bowed low.
With the difficult aspects of leaving behind us, we departed Gath Forthnir for (what I believe will be) the last time. Although it was still quite early in the day -- roughly nine in the morning, if memory serves -- the sky was dark with threat of rain and the light was dimming instead of growing. The restless winds of Angmar continued their unending assault as they hurled bits of gravel and sand onto our eyes, lips, and skin. I heard a stone shake loose somewhere and topple down the mountainside, the cracks of its descent echoing many times off the bare cliffs. We made our way in silence down the long pathway one last time. Angmar was always a dismal place on the best of days, but today, knowing that we were finally leaving the friendly redoubt of Gath Forthnir and that we were the ones responsible for its loss -- well, let's just say I was even more depressed than usual.
Gaelira led us down to the stagnant pool, at the bottom of which no doubt still lay the rotting corpse of Skullyg. I was reminded of the grave of Areneth, the one-time doorward of Maerchiniath who fell unawares to the goblin's blade a week ago, and begged that we might visit it, however briefly. To this Gaelira consented, and so we skirted the pool on its northern edge, eventually coming to the dying brush and inconspicuous headstone hidden behind the large boulder where we had made the Man's resting place. We all stood there a moment in silence, each busy with our own thoughts. I remembered again how Areneth had welcomed us upon our first arrival at Gath Forthnir, and how cheerful he had been whenever we encountered him afterward. I was stung again by the fact that it was our quest which had betrayed the secret of the refuge to the forces of the Enemy, and now poor Areneth's grave may never be visited by anyone ever again once the Rangers had left the place behind. I sighed deeply. Nephyn sniffled a little, then turned her head to look at the landscape, as if assessing whether it was sufficiently peaceful to hold the Man's remains.
"I certainly hope nothing finds him here and disturbs his rest," I said. "I'd hate to think what might happen if --"
"Hush!" said Nephyn, as she grabbed my shoulder and dragged me behind the nearby boulder. The others quickly joined us.
"What do you see?" asked Drodie as he peeked from behind the rock.
"Look there!" said Gaelira. "A shadowy figure picking its way among the stones."
"But what is it?" I whispered. I craned my neck to try and glimpse what the others had bespied, but I could see nothing due to the rocky hillside.
"I see nothing!" hissed Drodie.
"Quiet!" the Elf admonished us. "It draws nearer. Whatever it is, it goes on two legs. Let us wait a moment -- mayhap the Sun will ride out from behind the clouds to aid us."
We waited. Very soon the intruder was close enough that I could hear its soft footsteps in the gravel, but I didn't dare to try and look. Gaelira was peering intently into the murk, and suddenly I saw her eyes widen.
"That is no servant of Angmar!" she said, nearly at full voice. I felt a wave of relief, then joined the others as we emerged to declare ourselves. What I saw was just about the last thing I could have ever expected to see in the barren wastes of Himbar.
It was an Elf -- a very tall Elf, with golden yellow hair and dressed in a remarkable blue robe studded with shimmering silver threads in an intricate pattern. He seemed to know where we were hiding and regarded us with a certain amused air, as though he were a prized stallion who just happened across four young pups that were entertaining themselves by playing in the mud.
"You there," the newcomer called, apparently not concerned about being overheard. "Tell me: is this place close to Gath Forthnir? I was told it lay north of the valley with the uncouth name of Imlad Balchorth."
"It is," Gaelira answered him. "Gath Forthnir is known to us, but we will not reveal its location unless we know more about you and your purposes. Who are you and what is your business in this land?"
"I am called Minasse, a Noldorin of Harlond," came the reply, "And I have come here because a great battle is brewing, and I wish to play what part in it I might." I cast my eye over the stranger. His attire was rich and exotic, but nowhere could I find any trace of blade or bow -- he appeared to be completely unarmed, as far as I could tell. All the same, he carried himself with a great sense of confidence or importance. In fact, he reminded me at once of Mallacai.
"Mae govannen, mellon Minasse," replied Gaelira with a courtesy. "We are what remains of Elladan's Outriders, and you will find the path ascending to Gath Forthnir just on the far side of this pool. We ourselves are just now departing thence on an urgent errand, and so we must leave you."
"What errand might that be?" Minasse asked us. Gaelira paused a moment, as if considering how much to trust the High Elf.
"We believe an agent of the Enemy means to enlist a powerful ally which lies entombed east of here," she said at last. "Our intent is to reach the site first and perhaps find a way to hinder those designs."
"Ah, so you seek Nurz Ghashu, yes?" Minasse replied with a grin. "Then it seems your purpose and mine intersect, at least for the present. I shall come with you."
I think we were all more than a little surprised by the Elf's sudden self-invitation, but there wasn't much we could do about it. Our plan was to reach the dark valley before sundown and already the day was quickly passing, so we took only a brief pause to introduce ourselves to Minasse before setting out again. Once the spire of Barad Gularan was in view we turned eastward and found the cliffside path we had taken previously. The clouds rumbled with thunder, but the sounds were distant and so the threat of rain was still some ways off. Yet the light continued to dim even as the Sun passed midday, and I feared a terrible storm was going to break upon us from out of the south.
Just as before, the going was slow, dull, and especially treacherous in the deepening gloom. I lost my footing a few times, but eventually the path broadened enough that I felt I could walk it safely. I found that Minasse was walking near me, and I took the opportunity to converse with him, though I was careful to keep my voice down, despite the fact we had seen no sign of enemies all morning. All of Angmar seemed devoid of activity, yet at the same time the roiling skies belied a powerful and gathering force which might explode forth at any moment.
"Minasse," I said as we walked, "You said you came here because a great battle was on its way. I thought our attack on Carn Dum was known only to a very select few. How did you come to hear of it?"
"I know nothing of any such attack," came the answer. "I began my journey from the Harlond weeks ago, for that is no small distance. No, I am a reader of the portents, my little friend, and the portents revealed to me that the time for elimination of a great evil from the World was finally at hand. I merely wished to have my part in such a momentous occasion, as I said before, and so here I am."
"And how did you manage to reach this place?" I continued. "Did you travel all the way alone? The roads are quite dangerous; surely you didn't come all this way unarmed?"
"I did come all this way alone, and I am not unarmed," Minasse replied. He thrust his right hand into a strange woven pouch which hung at his belt. From it, he produced two very unusual tablets and a small, finely wrought chisel. He only allowed me the briefest of glances before quickly stowing them away again, as thought he feared my seeing them might somehow do me harm, but I won't soon forget their appearance. They were elegantly shaped and beautifully carved all over with the most convoluted and complex runes while their surfaces gleamed as if they were made of glass. One was a gorgeous blue-green mixture like a topaz while the other shimmered with all the colours of the rainbow, but its predominant hue was golden.
"You are a rune-keeper, aren't you?" I asked, not bothering to hide my enthusiasm.
"I believe I have heard that name used for those who pursue my profession," said Minasse. "I do not care for the term myself because it does not seem an appropriate description for the nature of my skill, but I will not bother to quibble with you over something so trivial; you may call me that if you wish. Frankly, I am surprised you know aught of such things; I do not recall this being common knowledge among your kind. But then, it has been many, many long years since last I visited the land of the Halflings, so perhaps things there have changed."
"They have not, I'm happy to tell you," I said, admittedly a little pleased with myself for knowing something that this haughty immortal did not. "But I only know the term myself because there was another rune-keeper, an Elf-sire, who travelled with us for some time."
"Oh? Who was this and what became of him?"
"His name was, erm, is Luean," I said. "Unfortunately, he was required to part ways with us on business of his own, and that was some time ago."
"This name is not known to me," Minasse said. "He must have been a rather young studier of the arts. Had you known him long?"
"Not very," I said, "But he was a good friend and always knew how to lighten our moods. He was a fine hand at telling and guessing riddles."
"Those do not strike me as being very practical talents," the High Elf responded shortly. I cocked an eyebrow at him, but I don't think he noticed.
"Perhaps not," I said, trying hard not to show my annoyance, "But he was a good friend to us, whether or no. Besides, he once told me that his talents were not of the practical sort; he said his skills might not be visible to those as didn't know how to see them."
"Ah, then I believe that he was indeed a rune-keeper, for he would be quite right on that account," Minasse said with a smile. "Still, I would dispute the idea that our talents cannot be of a practical nature -- Let me assure you they may be, and very much so. This Luean must have been of a quite inferior order."
"What exactly is it that rune-keepers do?" I asked, deciding to ignore the High Elf's off-handed insults. Ever since Luean had first offered me his vague and cryptic explanation for that same question at the Comb and Wattle Inn (which now felt like years ago, but was in fact less than three months' time), I had been eager to learn more. Minasse laughed in response.
"How shall I endeavor to answer you?" he asked, still chuckling. "I hope this will be enough to quell your curiosity: all of the world is a Story which has already been written, but that Story is also constantly changing. The rune-keeper seeks to understand that story and recognize its patterns so that he can, at need, re-write certain parts of it. Does that help?"
"Not in the least," I said, and I meant it.
"How do you explain to a fish that it lives in water?" Minasse said, and he laughed again. "If you should happen to find yourself with a few centuries of spare time then perhaps I might be able to instruct you more fully. In the meantime, I am afraid you will have to be content with what I have told you. Besides, unless I am much mistaken, it appears we are drawing near to the valley of Nurz Ghashu."
"So it would seem," I said. Looking ahead, I could see the high pass which led up the side of the mountains and then plunged down into the basin wherein lay the ominous stone circle with its enormous rent side. I shivered involuntarily at the thought of returning to that disquieting scene.
"I wish Lagodir were with us," I thought aloud.
"And who is Lagodir?" Minasse asked me. "Another lesser rune-keeper you have lost along your way?" I shot a glance at Gaelira, for I did not wish to disclose anything too revealing to the newcomer, but she did not seem to be concerned about my conversation with the High Elf.
"No, he was, erm is a Man of Gondor and he was the fifth member of our Company until just recently," I said. "But he became possessed by a malevolent spirit when we overthrew the Steward of Angmar; it is that spirit's plots we hope to disrupt by reaching the valley before it does."
"You say the Steward of Angmar has been overthrown?" Minasse asked pointedly. "How curious that I should be unaware of such an important development. Are you quite sure about this?"
"Indeed, yes," I said. "We four were there when it happened: we saw Mordirith collapse, defeated, and that is when the fell-spirit I mentioned took control of our friend's body and claimed Angmar for his own."
"Really?" he mused. Minasse sounded to me very much like a scholar pondering an academic question who was only entertained by the problem's intricacy. I looked up at him, but all questions died on my lips, for we had reached our destination.
The hateful valley unfurled below us just as before, and the fuming thunder-clouds made the place more unsettling than ever. Lightning flashed across the landscape as the dimness of late afternoon enshrouded everything, but still the rain did not come. As the lightning-fire faded, a thunder-crash erupted which was so great I felt the very mountains themselves tremble under my feet. I looked out over the blasted gorge. There were the high, sharp peaks of the encircling mountains. There was the broad, vile disk with all its queer and frightening runes. There, too, was the incredible gash in the stone which pierced all the way to the disk's midpoint.
But one thing was different. There was a light in that valley: a single point of light, about two hundred feet ahead of and below us. It was perched atop one of the many broken, crumbling obelisks and other structures which surrounded the centre disk. As I looked at it, I saw the light changing colours, and then I realized it was being held aloft by a dark figure. My heart stopped. The light vanished, and the dark figure turned to face us. Its voice rolled out in greeting, powerful and fell enough to overpower the tumult of the impending storm.
"Welcome, my friends," it said. "I expected to find you here. Come. Do not try to run from me."
"We will never run from the likes of you," said Gaelira, but her voice sounded weak; shattered by the rising winds. As one, we began our descent into the valley of Nurz Ghashu. We walked upright and proudly, but inside us hope was quickly withering away.
Guloth had reached the valley first. We had failed again.
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