Sterday, 2nd of Astron, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Angmar
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| The remains of Lagodir's sword |
I normally wouldn't bother you with all the minutiae I tend to overhear in those types of conversations, Dear Reader, but in this case I couldn't tell you much of what was said anyway since I was in such a foul mood that I was scarcely paying attention. A lot was said (or re-said) about Guloth and where he might have gotten himself to or what he might do next following the collapse of the caverns inside the Rift of Nurz Ghashu, but all I found clear was that no one really knew anything. It also became clear that, if anything useful was to be learned, it would be up to us to do the learning. Iorelen's company was nearly halved by our foray against the Balrog and very few of those who survived were unharmed. We five Outriders had somehow escaped quite intact, and that realization put me in a very different (more grateful) mood than any amount of coffee might have done. I slowly became aware that Iorelen, her arm still in its sling, was advising us to not assume Guloth crushed along with Thaurlach in the rubble, for he was a crafty foe.
"Don't you think we ought to go and look for Guloth, then?" I asked, interjecting myself into the conversation rather awkwardly. The others turned and stared at me.
"Padryc, that's what we've been saying most of this time," Nephyn said in a polite whisper. "Haven't you been listening at all?"
"Oh!" I stammered, "Yes, of course. That is, I only meant that, you know, perhaps it was high time we went and did the looking? The longer we wait, the further away from us he's likely to make himself, is all."
"Quite so," said Iorelen, but the Elf-maid's bright eyes betrayed the smile she was suppressing out of courtesy toward me. "What concerns me is what to do if you manage to overtake your quarry, Master Halfling. 'Tis most unfortunate, but none of us here have any clear idea how to cure your Gondorian friend or if he can be cured. Like as not only Elrond himself could answer that question, but it may be some days ere Malkan, your eagle-friend can return to you with his instructions, for the leagues are long from here to Imladris."
"And yet the hobbit has a point," said Drodie as he gulped ale in between mouthfuls of dried beef. "We cannot simply wait here until the bird comes back -- either we set out to find the patient without the cure or we wait for the cure and lose the patient! But the latter carries the greater risk, at least that is the way I see it." He burped then got a confused look on his face as he realized his ale-skin was lighter than it should have been.
"I would also assent to the former course of action," said Gaelira thoughtfully, but her face was troubled. "I think we shall have to trust that Malkan will make all speed he possibly can and that he will find us swiftly. I do not believe there is any other practical option available to us at this time."
"Then I shall bid you farewell, friends," said Iorelen as she rose to leave us. "I must remain here, for my first duty is to my comrades-in-arms; our wounds are many and grievous. But you five cannot forsake your companion, possessed as he is by this foul wraith. I wish there was more I could do to aid you. I wish, too, that we might have spent longer in each other's company, but evidently Fate would not have it so."
"The valour of you and your warriors will be remembered, Iorelen," said Minasse. "Yours is a story of immense bravery, and we are honoured to have played some small part in it."
"More than a small part," Iorelen replied with a laugh. "But your own story is only beginning, I deem. May the Valar bestow their blessing upon it, mellyn, and may each of you come to see clearly your own parts therein. Namarie."
Once we had gathered our things and said farewell to the rest of the camp, we began the descent down into the valley of Nurz Ghashu. Large sections of the earth were now greatly disturbed, as you might imagine, but that accursed stone disk still lay, unchanged, in the very centre of the dell. I found the quiet unnerving at first, but slowly I began to feel as though it was actually the quiet of peace and not malice... or what malice remained there was now faint and far-off.
The five of us spread out and began to search for any signs that would indicate what might have become of Guloth (and, of course, of Lagodir). I wanted to go with Nephyn, but I knew we'd cover more ground by splitting up. I scanned the earth haphazardly. What was I supposed to be looking for? I was no use as a tracker, and I saw plenty of footprints from us and Iorelen's company all over the place anyway. I shrugged to myself then looked up at the sky, shielding my eyes. Despite a heavy cloud cover, the heavens over Angmar appeared brighter than usual and, after so many days of flitting about in darkness or hunkering in caverns, it seemed almost painfully bright to me. Then I remembered Malkan the eagle, so I searched above me for a moment, but of course there was nothing to see: it was hundreds of miles from here to Rivendell -- even in a straight line. If we were going to receive instructions on how to cure Lagodir from Guloth's influence, we were going to have to be patient. I sighed and allowed my thoughts to wander.
That's when I heard a loud halloo from behind me, to the east. It was Drodie, and he was waving his arms in excitement. The rest of us quickly converged on his location, which was a good ways behind the stone disk and in the shadow of the encircling mountains.
"Here at last we find news!" said the Dwarf, looking quite pleased with himself. "There are none better than a Dwarf for the reading of signs -- if you are among the bones of the earth, that is. See here!" He pointed at a flat slab of unremarkable stone lying, like so many others, in the dust of that valley, then he bowed as a manner of self-congratulation. We watched him bewildered and no one spoke for several moments. A crow cawed mockingly from somewhere overhead.
"Drodie, perhaps you took more ale than was good for you at breakfast?" Nephyn asked him.
"Erm, yes, I happened to notice his ale-skin was looking a bit light," I said, knowing full well I was the reason for it.
"By Durin's Beard!" Drodie cried. "Don't tell me you think that is a stone slab?"
"I don't... what would you have us think it is?" Nephyn replied confusedly.
"Ha!" laughed the Dwarf triumphantly. "Then what do you say to this?" With that, he seized the huge rock at its base with both hands and easily swung it open, as if it were on a hinge! The "rock" remained there, pointing straight upward, while beneath it was revealed a set of stone stairs, descending down into darkness. A thin cloud of dust wafted up to meet us and I gave it a sniff.
"Phew!" I said as I waved the stuff away from my face. "Why, that reminds me of that infernal Rift we were just in! Can't you smell the sulfur and ash?"
"Aye, but there's a good deal of stone dust in that smell also, little hobbit," said Drodie with a broad smile. "Thanks to the cave-in, naturally. And so here is our answer: Guloth escaped through some secret back-channel, but he emerged here and I'd wager made his getaway starting at this very spot."
"I doubt you no longer, Master Dwarf!" said Nephyn, who was now a short distance away and bent over double to examine the ground. "Look! Boot-prints! They are alone and they would be Lagodir's boots -- I'd swear to it."
"Well done, the both of you!" said Gaelira. "Which way have they gone?"
"West," said Nephyn, and we began to follow her as she led us. The trail led around the edges of the stone disk, at the feet of the surrounding hills, and it seemed as though they kept behind boulders or among the strange obelisks or other structures that littered the valley -- as if the owner of the prints wished to remain hidden. Very soon we were approaching the eastern edge of the valley. By now it was very nearly noon. I was trying to follow the trail of boot-prints myself, but I never had success. Yet Nephyn always seemed to know which direction to go and I was at a loss as to how she managed it.
"Neph," I asked as we trotted along, "How on earth can you even see these tracks? I'd swear I've not seen a clear print since we started back at the stone!"
"The prints are rarely clear," she answered, "But even that sometimes can reveal important information. For instance: don't you see how these marks are so close together? Why, they are not even as far apart as my own stride, and Lagodir has a much larger frame than I. This indicates to me that he may be wounded in some way, though of course I cannot be certain without some clearer sign. There have been no blood-marks that I have seen so far, though it can be hard to tell when tracking on such rocky ground."
"Ah, do you think then that Guloth was injured by the cave-in as he fled the Rift?" asked Drodie. "That might work in our favour."
"It's possible, and yes it might," said Nephyn worriedly, "But if that is so then I would fear for Lagodir, who we must not forget still inhabits that body. So you see, Padryc? It's all about observation."
"No doubt of that," I said, "But observation of what? All I see are a few dimples in the dirt --"
"Hold!" It was Minasse, who seized me by the shoulder and brought us all to a halt. Instinctively, I began to scan the area in front of me. There, suddenly revealed to us as it came into sight from behind a broken pillar, was a body lying on the ground; a cruel-looking sword was thrust into it. Gaelira dragged us all behind the shadow of a large obelisk and held us there.
"What a gruesome sight!" I said, but I had learned enough to keep my voice as quiet as possible. "You don't suppose that's one of Iorelen's --"
"No," said Gaelira. "I saw it clearly: it is the body of the Lossoth-witch."
"Ha-ha!" laughed Drodie at full voice. "Got what was coming to her, didn't she?" There was a sharp clang as Nephyn's hand slapped him across the head, though his helm largely absorbed the blow.
"Don't be an idiot!" she hissed at him. "Didn't you recognize the sword? You ought have, considering it was used to knock you senseless not two days past: it is the sword of Guloth!"
"Yes. He may be watching us from somewhere among the stones even now, perhaps," said Minasse grimly as he carefully looked this way and that. Drodie's eyes became very wide as the threat slowly dawned on him, and he began to search the ruins of his own account.
"But... why would Guloth kill his own servant?" I mused, still quietly and very aware of the danger. "That doesn't make sense to me."
"Nor me," answered Gaelira, "Still, we must use all caution: that is most certainly Guloth's blade and the Enemy's servants have no compunction about sacrificing their allies to further their own ends, as we ourselves have seen before now. It may be a trap."
"Or it may be a diversion," I said. "Suppose it is a ruse only meant to delay us? Let me try to get closer and see what there is to see -- I promise I will be careful."
I was granted permission to try, and so I did. I won't deny I was frightened throughout the whole ordeal, but something deep inside me seemed to think this was no trick. Once I reached the body I satisfied myself that it was the Lossoth-witch and that she was indeed deceased, then I took a chance and showed myself openly. I looked around. Nothing happened. I waved my arms at my companions, signaling them to join me, which they did in short order.
"Looks like there's just what our eyes have seen, so far as it goes," I said as the others jogged up. "It's definitely the hag, though, and no doubt about the sword -- don't reckon I'd ever mistake that piece of ironmongery for anything else, ever."
"Yet now we find ourselves with another mystery to solve," said Gaelira, her hand upon her chin. "Guloth clearly escaped the cataclysm within the Rift and we know he came this way, but what are we to make of this sign?"
"Judging from the prints, I would say that Guloth slew the Woman," said Nephyn as she continued her study of the ground. "At least, I can't detect any other prints in this immediate area. Of course, the sword alone could have told us as much, I suppose. But what does it mean?" I looked at the weapon with disgust. It had been thrust into the upper torso near where the shoulder meets the neck and left there, stabbing upward, like an omen of death. The huntress's question hung in the air for a moment.
"Are there any other wounds?" asked Gaelira suddenly. We all looked. There were a several, and they were all the deep, thrusting punctures of sword-wounds. The serrations on the blade had rent the flesh cruelly, and the ground was dark with the Woman's blood; the left arm had been completely severed. Nephyn spent many minutes examining the blood stains.
"I do not think this killing happened long ago," she said slowly. "Maybe... maybe, twelve hours? Quite possibly less."
"If your guess is correct then it could have occurred around the time we fled from the Rift," said Minasse.
"Can you see where Guloth's tracks lead from here?" asked Gaelira. "Are they still visible?"
"Yes," said Nephyn and pointed. "You can see where he left a short trail of prints in the gravel just there as they climb up into the hills leading south of here."
"Then let us follow them!" said Drodie as he clapped his hands. "The foe flees before us and we five are on the hunt! Just let me at him -- I'll teach that Guloth to pop me in the head! And may-be he'll be more polite now that he's without his sword, too!"
The Outriders sprang into action. We raced up the hill in pursuit of the trail, our hearts hot within us. Thinking back on it now, this may have been a rather foolish thing to do since we still had no idea how we would defeat Guloth and save Lagodir even if we did manage to overtake him, but I suppose we were all so intent on finding our friend that none of us were contemplating this at the moment. But whether or no, our fervour began to cool rather quickly thanks to the terrain.
As soon as we cleared the first ridge, we descended into a ravine on the other side. Then it was another hard climb to the top of another ridge, and another plunge down the other side. Before long we were all puffing and blowing as the day wore on, yet we were not covering much actual ground. Nephyn was continually stooped over in search of the trail, and sometimes it would take her a long while before she felt sure enough of its direction to go on. In this way, the first full day of our pursuit came to an end. Gaelira and Minasse did not wish to halt, but there was no way the mortal folk could continue without a rest, and in any case we could not be sure to keep on track in the dark, especially in such a rocky and rugged country. We took what little food and sleep we could and rose at the first light of dawn before setting off again.
Sunday, 3rd of Astron, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Near the Dwarf-colony of Gabilshathur, Somewhere in the Land of Angmar
"My feet are in desperate need of a hot bath," I groused as I rubbed them gingerly. The harsh landscape of Angmar was no place to be walking unshod -- even for a hobbit -- and I was beginning to feel it after so many days of marching across its unforgiving surface. The sunrise had bathed the heavens with bright colours, but in that place the light seemed likely to betray us to unfriendly eyes while the orange sky only reminded me of fires and burnings. Drodie paused a moment to watch me while Gaelira and Minasse had already set off in pursuit of Nephyn's lead. Today was our second day of following Guloth's trail, but I would have never thought... Well, I will simply tell the tale as it happened and let you make up your own minds about it.
"If I had a second pair of boots I'd give them to you," he said to me with a grin, "But I doubt you would find Dwarf-boots any more comfortable than your current condition. Come! You must forget such things for now if we are going to catch up to the others -- they are already well ahead of us." I groaned my obeisance.
Once we had reassembled, I saw Nephyn on her hands and knees as she examined the ground. The two Elves were a little off to one side, whispering to each other in their own tongue. I stood there, a little impatiently, waiting for someone to explain what was going on. We had spent the night near the bottom of one of the ravines which pocked this part of Angmar, and I was not looking forward at starting the day by clambering up another ridge, but it looked as if that was in the cards for the moment. I peered distrustfully at the sky for a bit, then threw up my hands in exasperation, for I had heard a very faint rumble of thunder in the distance.
"What, more rain?!" I complained. "Is there never a day without darkness, gales, or tempests in this accursed land?"
"Yes. Today," said Minasse curtly. "What you heard is too far off to be of any concern to us, at least for the present, and in any case it came from the south while the wind is currently in the west. You should enjoy the day as it is, Master Halfling, instead of worrying about what it might or might not eventually become."
I huffed my displeasure at being preached to, and the fact I knew the Elf was right only made me grumpier. I fished an apple out of my pack and decided it would be better if things were going into my mouth rather than out of them at that particular moment. A little while later, Nephyn stood to address the rest of us.
"I apologize for this delay," she said, her brow knitted in frustration, "But there are signs here that required very careful examination. We followed Guloth's trail down into this ravine last night, but when I sought the trail again this morning I noticed something I had missed before in the dark. Unless my skill has left my entirely, I must conclude that Guloth fell into this ravine, and it looks to me as if he lay here, as though he were injured."
"Are you sure?" asked Minasse. His tone made it plain he thought Nephyn capable of very little as a tracker, but true to form the huntress ignored him and let her intelligence speak for itself.
"I am," she replied, and she pointed to an area on the ground. "It's as plain as can be that a largish body, roughly the same size and shape as Lagodir, lay here and that he struck this spot with some force."
"How do you know he fell?" I asked, intrigued by her perceptiveness.
"Because of the depth of the indenture in the earth, obviously," Minasse interjected before Nephyn could respond. This time she shot him a disapproving look, but the Elf paid her no heed.
"There is that," she said, "But also the trail itself: I feel quite certain he lost his footing somewhere along the way down and stumbled to this spot -- he may have even rolled part of the way. Unfortunately, I can't say how long ago or for how long he remained here."
"And where does the trail lead now?" asked Gaelira, clearly eager to keep moving.
"Not up the next ridge," she said, much to my relief. "He continued west, along the bottom of this ravine."
"Then let us follow him!" said Drodie, and we did.
Our trek lasted a few more hours before we came to our next serious halt. The ridges on either side of us obscured our view of the surrounding land, but eventually it became clear we were headed directly toward Barad Gularan. Gaelira and Minasse both warned us to use caution, but the warnings were hardly needed: even in the light of midday the turrets of that evil tower sent shivers down my spine. We moved on taking great care to keep ourselves out of the view of its windows and cruel spires. I found myself glancing up at that place repeatedly, as if it was going to suddenly reach out and strike me, but despite my fears everything seemed quiet -- almost brooding -- on that rocky height.
We were passing quite near to one of the bridges leading up to the tower itself when Nephyn showed us her palm.
"Stay here!" she said, "Do not follow me for a moment."
She crept forward while the rest of us waited in the shelter of a boulder-pile. My ears strained for any sign of Nephyn's voice in distress, but long before I started to get truly scared she came crouching back to us with her report.
"The footprints lead up to the bridge that spans the gorge into Barad Gularan," she said.
"Ah, then our search is ended," said Minasse. "But we cannot hope to assault that tower."
"No, no, you don't understand," Nephyn said, obviously agitated at the interruption. "The trail leads up to the bridge, but it does not cross it; Guloth -- or Lagodir, I don't know -- did not enter the tower. The tracks lead back this way: back south."
"What?" asked Gaelira. "He walked right up to the bridge then simply left? What can that mean? Was he turned away?"
"I'm not sure," said Nephyn. "But there is a large collection of other prints on the ground this side of the bridge as well. Some are clearly iron-shod orc-feet. Some look like goblin-feet. Others I couldn't say what they are, but it was almost as if Guloth was challenged at the bridge and not allowed to pass."
"Then this is a complex riddle indeed," said Gaelira with a frown. "Was there anything else?"
"Just this: I saw the prints of whomever faced Guloth in the gathering, but..."
"Yes?" asked Minasse sharply.
"They were... the prints were small. And unshod." Like machines, every head swiveled to look at me. My mouth fell open.
"What?!" I gasped. "A hobbit in Angmar? In there?! Neph, you must be mistaken!"
"Well, we don't know that they were hobbit's feet," she said, "But I have no doubt they were smaller than a full-grown Man or even a Dwarf. And I'm positive it was no goblin. A child, maybe? Or some prisoner?"
"That seems more likely than anything else I can think of," said Gaelira, "Though it is still very confusing and troubling. Who was this person and how did they come there? And why would Guloth wish to see this prisoner? If I can send word to Mallacai perhaps the Seekers of the Seven Stars could do something, but against the might of Barad Gularan even their hopes would be small. It seems that fortress hides many secrets, but there is no time for us to fathom them now. You say the trail leads southwards again?"
"It does."
"Yet Carn Dum lies to the north and west of here," said Gaelira, almost to herself. "This thread ties itself in ever more convoluted knots, but lead on."
"I will show you the way," said Nephyn.
We followed her. The day wore on as the wicked spires of Barad Gularan receded into the distance, and I think we all breathed a little easier as they did so, but that was not to last for we began to climb upward again and the exertion was all I could stand. We were well above the plains of Nan Gurth (the valley which houses Barad Gularan) once night fell, and I wasted no time in going to sleep.
Monday, 4th of Astron, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Angmar
Today dawned much the same as yesterday. I was probably the most glad to be moving on since hobbits do not, as a general rule, like heights very much at all. It was another hour or two of dull work before we finally emerged at the top of that high ridge. We looked back on the ashen valley of Nan Gurth with Barad Gularan rising out of its centre. I waved goodbye to it in mocking fashion.
"Let's hope we never have to look into that valley ever again!" I said. "So the trail continues southward, Neph?"
"It does," she said as she peered at the ground. "South and east. Follow me."
"Gladly!" I said. "My heart already feels lighter with that accursed tower well behind us. Lead on!"
For all my newfound enthusiasm, the going began harder as the trail faded amidst the rocky earth. Nephyn was forced more than once to double-back and recheck her steps. Several times she admitted a need to guess at the trail's direction and she did not always guess correctly, but despite all of this she kept her morale high.
"Even though our progress is slower I think we are gaining on him," she said to me as she continued her work. "These strides are no longer even, Padryc; they have become halting and shorter -- something is slowing our adversary down."
We pressed on. There on the plateau it became obvious that we had left the blasted lands of Himbar behind us as the skeletons of dead trees began to crop up all around, but we scarcely noticed because we were all so intent on finding and keeping the trail. All at once, Nephyn signaled that we should stop. She pointed ahead, and there I saw the stump of a withered tree at the base of which was the figure of a Woman, seated and leaning up against it as if resting. We all crept slowly forward, but I thought I knew already who it was we had found.
"So it is," I heard Drodie say grimly as we drew near enough to see clearly. "Wenhair. Another of our foes has met their end."
"But at whose hand?" asked Minasse. I followed his gaze and saw the source of the Lossoth-woman's demise: it was the hilt-shard of Lagodir's shattered broadsword. It was thrust through her breast all the way up to the cross-guard and into the tree itself, pinning her in place. Her garments were wet with blood.
"Well, Lagodir's obviously!" said Drodie. "Why would Guloth do such a thing to his most devoted followers?"
"Why indeed?" pondered Gaelira. "And yet we could ask the same question about Barad Gularan: why would Lagodir willingly go there, of all places, be seen by the guards and yet not be taken captive? I fear this mystery is only growing more complicated."
"This, at least, is clear to me," said Nephyn as she examined Wenhair's clothes. "That the poor Woman has only been recently dispatched. In fact, she might --"
Suddenly, Wenhair's eyes flew open! I cried in fear and hid behind Nephyn. The Lossoth-woman's mouth worked, struggling to make words with sound. She was clearly in immense pain and, in spite of her betrayal of us in the dungeons of Sarnur, I felt an overwhelming sense of pity.
"My master!" she managed to say, "He has gone mad!" A thick stream of blood pooled at the corner of her mouth and began to run down her chin and onto her neck. Her whole body began to tremble as her voice gurgled on her own gore. "Do not..."
"Be still, Wenhair," Gaelira said to her softly. "We mean you no harm."
"Do not..." Wenhair continued, "Do not... let him..."
And then she was gone. We paused a moment out of respect for the dead, but we knew we could not linger there. We looked around, but Guloth was not present though we did find his boot-prints again, still heading southeast.
"This is the second body in as many days we have been forced to leave thus," said Nephyn as she looked on Wenhair's corpse. "And I do not like it. Could we not at least bury her?"
"We have neither the tools nor the time," said Minasse, who was already scouting the trail ahead. "Besides, the ground is all rock here -- there would be no suitable earth for an internment." Once again I felt a sting of dislike for the Elf even though I knew what he said was true. Guloth -- or Lagodir -- seemed to be hindered by something, but he was still ahead of us somewhere and we knew nothing about his condition. What if our friend lay dying not far from where we currently stood? What if Guloth tried to destroy Lagodir's body out of spite? What if Lagodir let him? The possibilities were too horrible to think about, and time was indeed of the essence.
"Perhaps we might build a cairn?" Nephyn asked, but even I could see there was no hope for that idea: all about us were rocks, certainly, but it would have taken far heavier tools than a spade to turn then into anything suitable for such a task.
"Not unless you plan on cutting the stones out of the hills with your teeth," said Drodie. "Face it, lass, there truly is nothing we can do here."
"Yes, you're right," she agreed, then she returned to her task of leading our pursuit and we followed her intently.
This continued for another hour or more. The trail became so obvious that even I was able to see it: every so often our target could be seen to have stumbled or fallen, and the tracks started to show the feet dragging. Shortly afterward Nephyn declared he was crawling. We quickened our pace: it would not be long now.
The Sun was just beginning to pass the fourth hour from noon when we came upon a prostrate body facedown in the earth, the arms out above the head. The tracks led right to the soles of two large Gondorian boots. The black robes were rent and tattered.
We had found Lagodir.
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