70: Hunter and Hunted

The ride north through the night was both glorious and frightening. As promised, Finrod and Ingwion took the lead with Arafinwë and Laurendil directly behind them. The Maiar ranged about them on either side and behind while Sador rode next to Oromë in the middle of the cavalcade. Sador felt both sick and feral and he could not get the image of blood — the flowing warmth, the salty taste — out of his mind. He leaned over his horse, urging it to greater speeds, losing himself to the bloodlust. Oromë reached over and with a single hand plucked the ellon from his horse and settled the elf before him, wrapping a protective arm around Sador’s middle.

"No!" Sador screamed in embarrassment, struggling against the Vala.

He saw Finrod turn around and give him a fierce smile that caused the ellon to moan as a wave of darkness swept through him. He could not understand what was happening to him as ecstasy took him. Oromë held him close.

"Did I not warn you that there were grave consequences for both Hunter and Hunted, child?" the Vala asked. "You feel the bloodlust, don’t you?"

At Sador’s nod, the Vala began singing. It was a wild song of the chase yet, oddly, it did not evoke any further emotions of a dark nature. Instead, Sador found himself growing calmer and more focused, the blood images receding and other images of green forests and open glades under starlight taking their place. He felt one with the Vala’s song of fresh earth and green smells, which banished the tangy iron smell of freshly flowing blood from his nostrils. The Maiar picked up the song and the sound of it was both joyous and terrible and Sador wept cleansing tears of release as the dark wave receded, though the ecstasy remained. He must have fallen asleep for he suddenly came to when the rush of hooves slowed and Sador saw they had come to a road heading north.

Finrod reined his steed and waited until Oromë came up beside him, casting a concerned look at Sador who was eyeing him with some embarrassment. "Are you well, gwador?"

It was Oromë who answered, though. "Do not fear, Findaráto. Your brother was merely overcome with the call of the chase. He is well. I will see that he does not suffer unduly from the Hunt."

Finrod nodded, then leaned over and, taking Sador by the back of his head, gave him a brief kiss on the brow before releasing him. Then without a word he joined Ingwion at the front and the cavalcade continued along the road. The stars wheeled across the heavens as the night slipped towards dawn. Sador was now wide awake.

"Look! What’s that?" he pointed towards the east where the sky was beginning to lighten. Far in the distance he could see a mountain rising above the plain, its peaks wreathed in eternal snows. Much of the lower part of the mountain was covered with clouds, though the highest peaks rose clear above them.

"That is Oiolossë," Oromë explained.

Finrod called out. "There is a storm on the mountain."

"Yes. My brother Manwë’s work is quite spectacular, is it not?" the Vala replied.

"But what does it mean?" Sador asked, wondering if the storm had anything to do with Glorfindel being missing.

Oromë looked down at the ellon sitting before him and smiled, though Sador could not see it. "It means there’s a storm on the mountain, child, nothing more."

Sador nodded and settled back into Oromë’s embrace, content to be carried to their destination. The road they were on veered towards the east. Now the sun, rising above the horizon, was in their eyes. Another, narrower road led towards the northwest. Finrod called a halt, leading them to a copse some small distance from the roads.

"We will rest here for a few hours, I think," Finrod said to Oromë. "Valar and Maiar can go without rest but I would not want to weary these fine horses and I for one am ready to drop."

"Then we will rest," Oromë said, handing Sador down to the ground before dismounting himself. "My people will see to the horses and we will have a fire and something hot to eat before you sleep."

By this time the other elves had dismounted and joined Finrod and Sador. Arafinwë glanced at the young Sinda. "You are well, yonya?"

"Yes, Atar," Sador said. "I...I’m just not used to all this."

"Nor am I," Laurendil said. "I almost feared being swept away by my emotions, but somehow managed to pull myself back."

Oromë gave the Noldo a wry grin. "You have been on the Hunt before in Endórë, my son, though you did not recognize it as such. Sador, on the other hand, has never experienced the Hunt and so was more susceptible to the lure of the bloodlust. He will do better now, I think." The Vala gave the young Sinda a warm smile and Sador smiled shyly back.

In a short time the elves were fed and all but Arafinwë were fast asleep. The Noldóran sat by the fire speaking softly to Oromë, describing the trial and what came of it.

"So much hate," Arafinwë said, shaking his head. "Melkor did his work too well, I fear."

"But Eru will not be denied," Oromë said, "and the Marring will someday be transmuted into Healing for us all."

"I don’t even know what would be an appropriate punishment," Arafinwë confessed. "I am almost tempted to ask my son what he would have done as king if the situation had arisen in Nargothrond."

"Why don’t you?" the Vala asked gently.

Arafinwë grimaced. "I do not wish to appear... naive before my firstborn. Stupid, I know..."

"Not stupid at all, Atar."

Arafinwë and Oromë looked up to see Finrod sitting up.

"Forgive us, yonya, we did not mean to disturb you."

"You were not disturbing me, Atar." Finrod stood up and came and sat down beside him. "I am grieved that you have been put in such an untenable position." He sighed as he looked into the fire. "Eru knows I had more than my share of trials while king thanks to Fëanáro’s legacy of hatred and mistrust." He glanced at Arafinwë. "I do not think the less of you because you do not know how to handle this situation and I will gladly give you my thoughts if you ask for them."

"Thank you, yonya," Arafinwë said with all sincerity. "Your words of encouragement mean more to me than you will ever know. I think in the long run it will be I who will learn the meaning of kingship from you rather than the other way around."

"Nay," Finrod countered with a shake of his head. "I think we will learn from each other, Atar, as is only meet."

Arafinwë gave his son a hug and then at Oromë’s suggestion they both lay down to sleep, leaving only the Lord of the Forest and his Maiar servants awake and on guard.

****

The sun was two-thirds down the western sky before they set off again. This time, Sador rode his own horse and did not succumb to wild emotions. They moved along the northwest road. Oromë explained to Sador where they were going as they rode.

"This is the Mall’ Etelerroron, which leads eventually to Formenos. Long has that place of exile stood empty, but I fear that soon it will not be. The royal hunting lodge of Ingwë lies nearly halfway to Formenos from Vanyamar, deep in a forest to the west of the road. We will arrive at the lodge an hour or so after sunset."

"And what will we find there when we arrive?" Sador asked.

"Answers," Arafinwë called out from ahead, his voice cold and implacable. "Answers to questions I never thought to have to ask."

The rest of the journey was done in silence. At some point Ingwion veered west off the road along a track that was barely perceptible to Sador. Then, they were slowing down and finally Ingwion called a halt.

"The lodge lies less than a quarter mile from here," he explained. "I would take them by surprise if I can, so we will leave the horses here."

Oromë nodded. "We will be here when you return."

"You do not come with us?" Sador asked in surprise, for he simply assumed that the Vala and Maiar would accompany them all the way.

Oromë shook his head. "This Hunt is yours, my children."

Laurendil turned to Finrod. "You have my life, aranya. Tell me what you wish from me."

Finrod nodded. "I would ask that you stay close to Sador. This will be a new experience for him and he might be overwhelmed by what happens. No, gwador," Finrod turned to Sador who was looking rebellious, "I do not disparage your bravery, but Laurendil has had greater experience in these matters and you can learn much from him. Also, though you go armed, you have little skill in fighting."

"Actually, yonya," Arafinwë said with a wry smile, "that could hold true for myself and Ingwion as well. Only you and Laurendil have had any real experience in bearing weapons of war."

"True, but you and Ingwion know well the weapons of the hunt and so I do not have any fear for either of you. Sador, on the other hand, has not had such experiences."

Sador still looked rebellious at Finrod’s words but allowed himself to be led by Laurendil into the woods and soon the seriousness of their mission imposed itself upon his consciousness and his resentment abated. They moved noiselessly through the woods, following Ingwion, who alone knew the way with any degree of certainty. Soon they found themselves looking at a turreted lodge made from stone set in a small clearing. Lights flickered through the windows. Ingwion drew them together and whispered a description of the lodge’s layout.

"There is one large room on the ground floor with a kitchen in the back. Stairs to the left of the main door lead to a sleeping loft. There is a back entrance through the kitchen."

"Laurendil, Sador and I will take the back entrance," Arafinwë said, "while you and Findaráto go through the front."

Ingwion and Finrod nodded. "What are you going to do, exactly?" Sador asked them. "Ring the bell?"

Finrod grinned. "The idea has its merits, especially as the door may be bolted now that it is after dark. We will need to get inside somehow."

So it was decided and Arafinwë led the way for the other two ellyn as they moved towards the back of the lodge. The door, when they tried it, was bolted from inside, so they hid themselves in the darkness and waited.

****

Vorondil was sipping some mulled wine before the fireplace when there was a banging at the front door. The sound of it startled him and he jumped, spilling some of the wine on him. He muttered an oath. Ingoldo, on the other hand, merely looked up from his book in disgust.

"It had better be important whoever it is," he said. "I come here each year to get away from the court."

"Is that what it is then?" Vorondil asked somewhat nervously. "Some messenger from Vanyamar?"

"We’ll see soon enough," the Vanya said as he nodded to Tulcaner who was acting as Ingoldo’s body servant tonight. There were about a half dozen guards at the lodge, and they took turns seeing to their lord’s needs. Tulcaner went to the door and unbarred it, opening it and stepping back in surprise when he saw Ingwion standing there with another elf he did not know.

Ingwion did not wait for the guard to let him in but entered in an imperious manner. "Ah, Uncle. I trust your hunting has been fruitful this time? And Vorondil, is it?"

Vorondil just sat there staring at Ingwion and Finrod stupidly, trying to understand why they would be there. Ingoldo looked at his nephew warily, suddenly afraid. Finrod noticed immediately that Vorondil had taken to wearing warrior braids, though they were sloppily done and looked somewhat ludicrous on the ellon. At the sight of the braids, his expression darkened to wrath. At the same time, Ingwion noticed the peridot ring on Vorondil’s left ring finger. In two strides he was upon the younger ellon with a long knife against Vorondil’s throat.

"You have something that does not belong to you, child," the Vanyarin prince said in a whisper that was terrible to hear, for it was ice cold and a fell light shone from his eyes. Vorondil quailed at the feel of steel against his flesh but he kicked out at Ingwion’s legs and the move surprised the prince enough to force him to step back. Vorondil took advantage of this and ran towards the back of the lodge. There was a confused noise behind him but he paid little heed as he raced through the kitchen to unbolt the back door. He was through and running towards the nearby woods when something tackled him from behind and he fell. In minutes he was being trussed up and upon being brought to his feet, discovered that his attacker had been the Sinda potter and that surprised him all the more, for he had dismissed Sador as unimportant.

Arafinwë and Laurendil, meantime, had rushed into the lodge to help Ingwion and Finrod. Most of the guards had retired and were found in the sleeping loft. Ingwion relieved them of all weapons and marched them down the stairs where Laurendil began tying them up even as Sador brought Vorondil inside. Ingoldo tried to brave it out, but Ingwion’s presence unnerved him as nothing else could and he was soon confessing to his nephew his role in the conspiracy. Tulcaner managed to escape in the confusion, though Ingwion did not doubt that he would be found soon enough.

Vorondil received the brunt of Ingwion and Finrod’s questioning. Finrod, still furious, cut Vorondil’s braids off and threw them into the fire. Ingwion ripped the ring from the ellon’s finger, holding it up for all to see.

"This ring belongs to Glorfindel, given to him by Lord Manwë himself. What did you do with him, Vorondil?"

"I did nothing," the ellon cried, white-faced with his own fury at what Finrod had just done to him. "I never touched him."

"How did you come by the ring, child?" Arafinwë asked but Vorondil refused to answer and short of beating it out of him (Laurendil’s suggestion) there was little they could do at the moment.

Ingoldo was tied up as well and soon they were all marching through the woods towards where Oromë awaited them. When those from the lodge saw the Vala, many quailed, Ingoldo and Vorondil especially. Oromë took one look at them all then pointed to three of the guards.

"These three are innocent of any wrongdoing. They may be released and their weapons returned to them. As for these others..."

The Vala looked at the remaining guards as well as Ingoldo and Vorondil and his anger was terrible to behold. One of the guards was violently ill and another fainted outright. Ingoldo paled and Vorondil screamed. One of the Maiar had to grab him and hold him down, for he tried to flee, bound though he was.

"There is one other who escaped," Arafinwë said.

"He will not get far," Oromë said, his expression softening as he looked upon the King of the Noldor. "You have done well, my children. I am pleased with the outcome of this Hunt."

"But we haven’t found Glorfindel, lord," Sador said, his expression one of confusion.

"That was not the purpose of the Hunt, otorno," Ingwion said, laying a hand on the younger ellon’s shoulder. "It was never about finding Glorfindel. He was the bait and has served his purpose. This was always about finding those responsible for breaking the Sérë Valaron and bringing them to justice."

"Glorfindel will return when it is proper for him to do so," Oromë said with a gentle smile for the Sinda who still looked doubtful. "Now, come to me, child."

Sador moved to stand before the Vala. With a swift motion Oromë grabbed Vorondil by the hair and forced him to kneel before him. Vorondil looked as if he would faint at any moment, his face white with shock. The Vala’s expression was dark and forbidding, yet his tone, when he spoke, was almost mild, which only made it worse for all who heard it.

"You play a dangerous game, Vorondil Aldundilion, a game you know little about. You will be judged by those whom you have wronged and if you are lucky you will not be brought to stand before the Valar in the Máhanaxar. For now, though, you will serve another purpose."

Oromë took a knife and, grabbing the ellon’s arm, slit the tunic and shirt underneath and made a shallow cut. Vorondil cried out but otherwise did not seek to escape from Oromë’s grip. The Vala allowed the blood to well up before dipping his fingers in it and then smearing it on Sador’s forehead and cheeks.

"Our quarry was no fell creature of the dark but elves who have known nothing but the light of the Valar’s benevolence. Yet, they would seek to disturb the peace which this land enjoys out of spite and malice and even just for the fun of it." Here the Vala cast his gaze on Ingoldo who reeled slightly at the force of Oromë’s regard but otherwise stood his ground. "You have participated in your first Hunt, Sador Bronwegion. You have done well and I am pleased with you. Remember the blood of this one that I have smeared upon your brow and cheeks. Remember the cost to you and to your brother for this one’s folly."

"What cost to me, lord?" Sador asked. "Vorondil has done nothing to me personally."

"Has he not?" Oromë countered. "His folly brought you to the Hunt and the lust for blood that is a consequence of it. Few among the Eldar do I invite to participate in the Hunt, for the cost in innocence can be terrible indeed."

"But I am no innocent, lord," Sador replied. "I have taken lives and all of them elves. I am as guilty of Kinslaying as any who attacked Alqualondë or the Havens."

"Had you truly been guilty of Kinslaying, child," Oromë said, "you would not have been as disturbed by the feelings of bloodlust as you were. No, you were ever innocent and now it has been lost to the evil these others would do."

Oromë then pressed his hand upon the cut on Vorondil’s arm and soon the blood stopped flowing and the cut was healed as if it had never been. "My people will take these to Vanyamar," the Vala said. "You, my children, have yet another task."

"Is the Hunt still on then?" Finrod asked wearily, for now that the excitement of the chase was over he was feeling exhausted.

For the first time that night, Oromë smiled and it was as if the sun had risen. "Nay, child. The Hunt is over. This is something else entirely. For now, return to the lodge and rest. What else needs doing can wait until morning. Sleep well, my children, and fear not. I will set my people to guard you."

With that, Oromë issued orders and soon several of the Maiar were riding swiftly away, each with a prisoner before them. The three guards whom the Vala had declared innocent also left with the Maiar. Arafinwë gave Oromë a bow and the others echoed him before they returned to the lodge. In a short while all five elves were fast asleep. The Maiar ringed the lodge, swords of light drawn. Oromë stood at the edge of the clearing where the lodge was situated and danced under the stars to music only he could hear.

****

Note: The concept of Oromë’s Hunt is based very loosely on the Wild Hunt, which is a popular mythological motif throughout Europe (known as wilde Jagd in Germany), though I have taken my cue from the myths of the British Isles where the hunt is led by either Herne the Hunter (British) or Gwynn ap Nudd, King of Annwfn (Welsh). Annwfn is the Welsh Overworld.