Mersday, 30th of Rethe, Year 1418 Shire-reckoning
Iorelen's Camp, Somewhere in the Land of Angmar
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| Guloth, the Steward of Angmar |
"Stay close to me, little one," he said. I obeyed, but I kept my weapons at the ready. There was another blinding flash of lightning and the thunder boomed around us for miles, echoing fearfully off the mountain-walls. Even though the Sun had not yet set, the boiling clouds made it so dark it could have been night, but still the rain did not come.
"Well, well, if it isn't my friends," the apparition said in a mocking tone. There was no trace of Lagodir's soft but strong voice in the speech of Guloth, and his eyes remained dead and sightless. It was the Gondorian's face I saw, but his once sharp and handsome features now looked harsh, angular, and cruel. He wore a spiked circlet upon his brow -- the same we saw worn by Mordirith before he fell -- and his flowing black robes whipped about in the wind. In his left hand he held a naked and bitter sword of perverse design, and in his right, close to his body, he carried a large black shield.
"Didst thou think to thwart me?" Guloth asked. It seemed as if his voice reverberated in my very ears. "Already my minions infest the Rift, and soon the Terror which dwells within shall be unleashed. Once again thou art too late."
"You cannot hope to control the demon," shouted Gaelira. "It's power exceeds your own."
"I have no need to control it," he answered. "It shall bring untold destruction upon the enemies of my Master -- the likes of which that fool Mordirith was too weak or timid to exploit. But I! I will be the bringer of death to those who oppose Sauron, and ever higher in the Dark Lord's favour shall I rise!"
"Yet here you are outside the Rift and not within it," said Minasse from next to me. "Perhaps our arrival was not as untimely as you say." Guloth turned his attention to the High Elf.
"And who is this?" he asked with a sneer. "A new friend so soon, to replace the one I slew?"
"Curse you, wretch!" Nephyn screamed back. "Where is Lagodir? What have you done with him?!"
"Weep for me, daughter of mongrel-rats!" Guloth scoffed. "Nothing shall I tell thee, the more that thou mind might be tormented in thy doubt. Come! Who amongst thy rabble can hope to keep me from my purpose?"
"What, alone against the five of us?" asked Gaelira, still having to shout over the roiling storm. "Where are your minions? Or do they desert you, seeing their doom approach?" Guloth laughed again.
"The Lossoth-witch and her offspring are about my business elsewhere," he said. "They have no fear of thee, of that thou mayest be certain. But enough talk! I need no servants to destroy the lot of thee!"
And with that he launched himself at us, his sword flashing even as the lightning rent the heavens overhead. Gaelira, Drodie, and Nephyn all fought valiantly, but Guloth was a terrible and deadly foe. I remained beside Minasse, unable to help them in any meaningful way except to shout encouragement now and then, but even that was swallowed up by the tempest which swirled about us. The High Elf had produced his rune-stones and was studying them intently, oblivious to the fighting. I saw Drodie stagger backward and fall senseless under the crushing weight of Guloth's blows, then Gaelira cried out and clutched at her arm. Nephyn shouted her attack and their two blades gleamed in the night. Sparks flew in the fury of battle. There was a tremendous clang, and I saw the Sword of Ringdor fly out of Nephyn's grip. It sailed through the air until it fell clattering onto the outer edge of the great disk, two dozen yards away. Then Guloth placed his weapon against her thigh and raked it. The huntress screamed and fell to the ground as blood poured from her wound. I gasped in horror. The Steward of Angmar's sword-tip was inches from her breast.
"Can't you help them?!" I pleaded to Minasse. Finally, he looked up at me.
"No," he said. "But you can!" He seized me by the shoulders and shoved me into the fight!
I was face-to-face with Guloth. His merciless white eyes beheld me and a chilling smile spread over those thin, ashen lips.
"And so thy friends wouldst sacrifice thee to save themselves, Halfling?" he asked. "What a pity. But wait... Ah, how delectable! Know, little weakling, that the Dark Lord's gift to me long ago was the power to glimpse into the minds of my prisoners and to see therein that which shall bring to them the very greatest suffering. I had thought to slay thy Woman-friend before thee, for 'tis clear that thou dost love her. Yet I perceive now that to end thy life in front of her would be the greater torture. And so: die now, and let despair be thy last living thoughts."
"No!" Nephyn screamed and tried to come to my defence, but her wound was too great: she cried out in pain and fell back to the earth. I looked up into those ruthless, glazed eyes and saw my death approaching as Nephyn wept helplessly. My knees quaked. My arms shook. My heart pounded so that I feared it might burst. I raised my dagger and shield purely out of instinct. Guloth strode quickly toward me and his sword arched wide. Suddenly my dagger flew out of my hand, my whole arm wracked with the shock of the blow. Guloth's sword arched again. This time my shield was rent as if by a thunder-bolt and I dropped it in pain. I sank to my knees, pitifully raising my arms over my head as if it would do any good to ward off the final blow. The skies erupted into a cannonade of wrath and furious lightnings as the Steward of Angmar raised his blade one last time.
But then... nothing happened.
"What is this?" Guloth hissed. I dared to peep up at him. His sword was poised, point downward at me, ready to end my life in an instant, yet it did not move.
"WHAT IS THIS?!?!" He said again, then screamed aloud in his fury. The very sound of it was a torment to the body as well as the mind, and I covered my ears in agony.
"NO!" he cried. "It cannot be!" Then, lowering his sword, he turned and fled. Within seconds, he had vanished down into the great chasm beneath the stone disk and was gone. The thunder rumbled once more, and I breathed again.
I found I was trembling, but whether it was from fear or relief I couldn't tell, for I moved at once to assess the damage done to my comrades. Nephyn's wound was by far the most serious and required immediate attention. Gaelira was able to treat her own arm (which was not too badly injured) while Minasse succeeded in reviving Drodie, who had suffered a nasty pommel-strike to the temple (fortunately, his helm had absorbed the worst of it). Then we determined our current position was too exposed, so we removed ourselves -- with some difficulty -- to the shelter of some nearby rock-formations. Nephyn's leg was lame and, once she had recovered the Sword of Ringdor, she was obliged to use it as a crutch to move herself about. Then everyone was checked and double-checked to ensure none of us had been poisoned or worse. It was some time later before we were able to regroup and take stock of what had just happened.
"Minasse, just what were you thinking?" I finally managed to ask him. "What put it into your head that I could withstand that brute when those three had just failed to do so? Good Heavens!"
"And yet I was right, wasn't I?" came the High Elf's reply. My mouth fell open in disbelief.
"I -- what?" I asked in exasperation. "Did you not see what the rest of us saw just now?"
"Of course I did," he said. "But I also saw what came before: I saw the Story so far as it has been written, and I judged that Lagodir would not allow you to be slain by his hand. And I was right."
"No, wait... what?!" My head was spinning with confusion.
"I think, Padryc," said Gaelira with a grim smile, "That the mysteries surrounding Lagodir's fate begin to reveal themselves to me. You yourself had said: two things cannot occupy the same space at the same time, did you not? I think we know at last what has become of Lagodir. He -- his will, his soul -- is still trapped within his own body, but Guloth has commandeered it. Or most of it. I think what we saw was Lagodir fighting his own battle. It would seem you are quite dear to all of us, my friend."
"Well, thank goodness for that!" I said. "Naught repays a body more than good manners, my boy, as my old dad used to tell me, although I rather doubt this was what he had in mind when he said it. But this means we're going to have to discover some way of separating Guloth from Lagodir, and Heaven help me if I know of how we will ever manage that!"
"Nor I," Gaelira sighed, "But for the moment we have more pressing matters to deal with. Guloth has fled into the Rift of Nurz Ghashu, and I do not know if we can hope to follow him there. Yet I fear we shall have to do so, or his plans may still come to fruition."
"It is for this very reason that I came to this land," said Minasse with a determined face. "I will go down." He quickly buried his nose in his rune tablets again.
"As will I," said Drodie. "I've warned the Enemy before it's no good targeting my head, for 'tis the hardest part of me. Besides, I relish the thought of fighting beneath the earth. At last! I'll show the rest of you what a real battle looks like!"
"I, too, would follow," said Nephyn as she winced in pain. "For my heart burns within me, knowing at last what has become of Lagodir and that there may yet be a chance to save him. But I am wounded and will need at least some time to recover. And I refuse to let you join us, Padryc -- it may be too dangerous for you."
"I agree with the Woman," said Gaelira. "It would be best if you wait up here, out of sight."
"What rot!" I protested. "Has it escaped your attention that I'm the only member of this Company who is not currently injured? Well, apart from your good self --" I said and turned to Minasse. But the Elf was engrossed in whatever he was doing with those stones, and ignored me.
"Oh, bother him, then," I went on. "Actually, I suppose I didn't escape completely unscathed since my beautiful shield is now little more than a pile of scrap metal; at least my dagger is safe. Anyway, I admit I'm scared to death of this place, but Lagodir is down there and he needs our help! He just saved my life, and I intend to help repay the favour."
"Well and bravely spoken," said Gaelira as she fingered her wounded arm. "Unfortunately, all our combined bravery and well-spoken words are not going to avail us in the Rift. What is to be done?"
"The storm is passing," said Minasse suddenly. We all looked up. It was true: the thunder and lightning was hastening eastward, carried away by a sudden wind coming up from the West. We turned to see the clouds being torn and cast aside by the breeze as the setting Sun flared over the edge of the hills, blinding us. I shielded my eyes, then I rubbed them, for I was sure I was seeing things. Was there something -- many things -- moving there, just at the crest of the ridge above us?
"Look!" cried Nephyn. She was so overjoyed that she even managed to stand.
And there came down to us many people of all kinds. They were led by a silver-haired Elf-maid in shining armour, but there were many Men, several Rangers, more Elves tall and fair, and even some Dwarves. Nearly all of them were girt for battle and they were grim and fell to look upon.
"How is this possible?" breathed Gaelira. Then a piercing call came from on high, and out of the gleaming shaft of the setting Sun's radiance there flew a great bird which alighted on a pillar near us.
"Malkan!" I called to the eagle. "How wonderful to see you again!" Malkan bowed his head at me, but said nothing.
"Suilad, mellyn! My name is Iorelen," the silver-haired Elf said as she hailed us. "I bring word from Mallacai: today, the fate of all Eriador hangs in the balance, and so the Seekers of the Seven Stars have gathered our mightiest warriors and sent them hither in defence of the Free Peoples. We are at your service."
"But... but how did you know where -- and when -- to find us?" I asked, dumbfounded.
"The tale of the creature which dwells beneath this seal is known to all the Wise," replied Iorelen. "Mallacai foresaw this day long ago. He arranged for all of our greatest champions, those who were available and willing to face extreme danger, to converge at this spot on this day, that we might finally see a great evil wiped from Middle-earth forever."
Some time was spent on introductions, but we were also lent great care for our wounded. We then decided to establish a proper camp out of the swirling winds of the valley. There was a winding path up one side, and this we climbed until we reached a small ruin which suited well as a campsite. Once everyone was settled in, we began to discuss our situation. Gaelira brought Iorelen up to speed on everything that had befallen us in the land of Angmar, to include our meeting with Mallacai in the Halls of Night, our unsuccessful venture into Carn Dum, the downfall of Mordirith, and even Lagodir's possession and our recent battle with Guloth, the newly minted Steward of Angmar.
"The power commanded by this Guloth is deeply troubling," said Iorelen. "But still less so than that Thing which lies somewhere beneath our feet. We must first deal with the main threat. Then, if circumstances permit it, we will see what can be done about the wraith."
"But he has taken control of our friend," Nephyn said with flushed cheeks. "It would not be just to slay him. Is there no other recourse?"
"Long have I walked the hills and vales of this Middle-earth, yet this is the first time I have ever encountered such a dilemma as what you describe," Iorelen replied. "I fear I have no advice for you on this matter, other than to urge that you dispatch your eagle-friend with all speed to Lord Elrond in Rivendell. As a master of the healing arts, he would be better equipped than any other this side of the Sea to advise you. Yet, over so great a distance, whatever help even he could send you may be small."
"I shall do as you suggest," said Gaelira. "And now tell me of Mallacai. When was it you last saw him? Does he send us any words of counsel?"
"You have seen him much more recently than I," came Iorelen's answer, "Judging from what you told me of yourselves. And no, he sent no words beyond what I have already reported. Are we not enough for you?" she added with a wink.
"You are more than we could have ever hoped for!" I laughed. "It's just that everything seems to be going against us lately, if you take my meaning, aside from your turning up all sudden-like the way you did. But what now? Are we going down into that awful pit tomorrow? What is this Thing we're hoping to find down there?" There was a short silence.
"It is a Balrog of Morgoth," said Minasse. Even his normally haughty voice was quiet and subdued. "A being of a kind which has slain more Elves than any other throughout the Three Ages of this World, save the Dark Lord himself and his Black Master before him." I swallowed hard. Even to my little ears the shadowy tales of these fire-demons was like a horror on the edge of a distant nightmare. I had never heard much about them from any of the Elves who had cavorted with me in the woods of the Green Hill Country, and I had never cared to ask about them when they entered into some story of theirs, for they frightened me.
"Have we any hope of victory?" asked Drodie.
"The hope is slim, but it remains," Iorelen said. "There are some among us who may, if we work together, be able to withstand the creature. I am one. Minasse and Gaelira are two others, and there are a few more among our troop. As is so often the case in life, the outcome is not certain, but we know what we are called to do and we shall attempt it."
At this point there followed a series of arguments about whether or not I should be permitted to travel into the Rift with the others. From what I gathered, the intent was to leave some of us behind to maintain a recovery point since none of us knew what we might encounter down there. But I remained adamant and eventually the others relented. We all prepared to sleep while the Elves stood guard, for we would need all the rest we could get for the day ahead. As Nephyn and I prepared our bedrolls, I noticed she was moving around with much greater ease than I would have expected given the severity of her recent wound, and I told her so.
"Yes, thank you, though it remains quite sore," she said as she prodded her injured leg. "I admit I'm rather surprised about that myself. I don't know what it was Iorelen dressed it with, but I think you should get some of it for your own stores if you can, Padryc." I heartily agreed.
"Neph," I asked as I lay myself down. "Do you think we'll ever see Lagodir -- the real one -- again? I miss him."
"As do I," the huntress replied. "I don't know, but I hold out hope. Seeing what happened to you has filled me with a new resolve, my friend! We know that Lagodir lives still, somewhere."
"Yes," I agreed. "I just wish we knew what to do about it! But first things must come first, I suppose. Good night, Neph."
"Good night." I closed my eyes and listened to the crackling of the nearby fire.
"Pad?" came Nephyn's voice again.
"Yes?"
"Lagodir isn't left-handed, is he?" I opened my eyes and frowned, stumped by such an odd question.
"Erm, no, I'm pretty sure he isn't," I said after noodling it over for a moment. "No, I'm certain -- he always fought right-handed, now I think about it. Why?"
"I was just remembering back to our first battle with Guloth, in Annuminas," she said. "And Guloth isn't left-handed either."
I blinked. I tried to work out what Nephyn's observation might mean, but the added mental exertion was too much after such a stressful day, and I fell asleep without success.
That's a great picture for this post.
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