33: The Dúnadan’s Cousin’s Tale

"As some of you know," Gilhael began, "there have been signs of orc incursions into the Westmark along with the usual Dunlending attacks."

Several of the listeners nodded. Rumors of orcs possibly hiding in the White Mountains had spread through the encampment and Gilhael’s words merely confirmed them.

"With the approval of Marshal Hilderic," Gilhael continued, "I went to the Westmark with Háma, Guthwulf and Éobeorht." The Rohirrim nodded again as Gilhael named his companions, for these three were well respected for their tracking and scouting skills. "We searched for signs of the orcs and Dunlendings crossing back over the Isen but there were none. At last we made our way southward until we came nigh to the abandoned village of Æsctun, as I learned had been its name. It suddenly occurred to me that perhaps that was where the orcs were hiding, since no one had ever gone back to the village once it had been abandoned. I decided to sneak into the village to see what I might discover and..."

"A foolish endeavor, Cousin," Aragorn interrupted sternly, his eyes dark, "and a dangerous one. Had our Chieftain been there he would have forbidden it."

"And gone in my place instead?" Gilhael retorted with some heat, refusing to back down.

Aragorn raised an eyebrow at his cousin’s tone, but refused to be baited. The tension between the two Men was palpable and some wondered at what was being intimated by their words. Thengel noticed how the Elves had gone very still at the beginning of the exchange and that gave him much food for thought. Gilhael finally broke eye contact with Aragorn and sighed, closing his eyes momentarily before looking at his Chieftain again. "Your pardon, Cousin. You are, of course, correct. It was foolish and dangerous and I nearly paid for my folly with my life."

"That you appear to have survived relatively unscathed," Aragorn conceded, "gladdens me, though when Háma told us what you had done, I could have cheerfully throttled you right then and there."

Everyone chuckled at that and the mood lightened somewhat. Gilhael just snorted. "I didn’t say I came out of it unscathed, merely alive."

Aragorn grinned at that, nodding. "Say on, then, Cousin. Let us hear what befell you."

Gilhael nodded, taking another sip from his goblet before continuing. "The village was a ruin, most of the houses burned to the ground, though there were some that were still relatively intact. The main feasting hall was less damaged than I thought it might be and I realized that was where the orcs most likely were holed up during the day. As for where the Dunlendings might be hiding...."

****

Gilhael waited until Ithil was hidden behind clouds before slipping into the village. Ithil’s light was dimmer than it had been only a few days before as his light was steadily being swallowed up, but it was still bright enough to show him to any sentry that the Dunlendings might have. He had to agree with the assessment of the Rohirrim: the idea of these Dunlendings having any kind of discipline as to set up a watch was rather ludicrous, but the fact that they were allying themselves with orcs was another matter entirely. Orcs were brutish and deadly but some of them were nearly as intelligent as any Man and capable of thinking past the next kill. It was possible that at least one of the orcs had enough brains to order a watch, so he had kept to shadows as he moved slowly towards the ruins.

Dark clouds scuttled across the midnight sky, blocking the light and he took his chance, moving silently as only a Ranger could move, passing between two burned-out houses. So far he had seen no other signs of life. He doubted the Dunlendings were holed up with the orcs. Whatever alliance held them together, it would not hold them so tightly that the Men would comfortably rest beside any orc. No, he surmised, the Dunlendings would be elsewhere, perhaps scattered amongst the less damaged buildings. He cast an eye about, deciding to move towards the center of the village where the feasting hall would be. He needed to ascertain the strength of the marauders and then escape back to the others. Hilderic and Aragorn needed to know and sooner rather than later.

The clouds proved cooperative and kept Ithil’s light from shining through. He took a quick look about and then shifted his location one deep shadow at a time, making his inexorable way towards the feasting hall which towered over all the rest of the village. He could see that the hall had sustained heavy damage, but it was not entirely ruinous. Coming from the northwest, he could not see if the main doors, which faced east, were still intact, however he could see where parts of the roof had fallen in and the gable at this end of the hall was gone.

Gilhael stopped suddenly as the moon peeked out from under cloud cover, bathing the landscape with an eerie white light that cast more shadows than anything else. He crouched beside a fallen beam, and kept his senses alert. He had heard nothing, seen no one and yet...

Every hair on his body prickled and he felt himself shivering for no particular reason. Then Ithil went behind clouds once again and the feeling of dread fled, he knew not where. Making a decision, he went to all fours and slowly crawled towards the hall. If this was like any other hall of the Rohirrim, there should be space between the floor and ground used for storage of dry goods and weapons. It might be possible to sneak under the raised flooring and learn what he needed to know. He had to trust to luck and the Valar that these storage areas were not otherwise occupied....

****

"You were going to sneak into the hall?" Aragorn asked incredulously.

Gilhael gave his cousin and lord an annoyed look. "Not into the hall, Cousin," he replied in exasperation, "under it." He was at pains to emphasize that last so there was no mistake as to the distinction, but Aragorn either couldn’t, or more likely, wouldn’t see the difference.

The Dúnadan turned to Thandir, his expression puzzled. "Do you think those... episodes he’s been having lately... of blanking out at odd moments, I mean... have affected his ability to reason coherently?"

Thandir gave the Mortal an indecipherable look. "Anything is possible, child," the Elf said with grave sagacity, "but that is not to say that something is probable. I suspect that Gilhael was merely acting as every other Ranger of the Dúnedain I have ever known tends to act, and I’ve known them all since Aranarth became your first Chieftain."

"And how do they act?" one of the sons of Elrond asked in curiosity, though it was obvious from his expression that he already knew the answer and agreed with it.

Thandir turned to Elladan with a smile. "Why, with thoughtless abandon for their or anyone else’s safety."

"That is true," Elladan said with a nod. "I well remember Aragorn," — no one but the Elves noticed the Dúnadan’s start at hearing his name, their attention fixed on the conversation between the Firstborn — "getting himself killed protecting the Breelanders from an incursion out of Angmar." He shook his head, his eyes full of sorrow. "His son Arglas was not yet of age. He was still being fostered in Imladris when his father died in my arms. One of his uncles acted as his steward until he reached his majority."

"Ah, yes, I remember that," Thandir said, his expression equally sad "It wasn’t so long ago either... only about six hundred years...." His immortal eyes swept the hall before lighting on Aragorn. "And still the Dúnedain are reckless to a fault."

Aragorn forced himself not to squirm under the Elf’s regard. He was saved from responding by Gilhael clearing his throat and giving Thandir a sour look. "Do you want to hear my tale or are we going to spend the evening discussing the history of the Chieftains of the Dúnedain?"

Thengel laughed. "As much as I find this discussion of ancient history interesting," — he studiously ignored the shocked looks of the Elves at the word ancient — "I much prefer to hear what happened to you, Tungolfród."

"As do I," Aragorn said. "Our ancestors’ foibles are not the issue here. Let us hear the rest of your adventures, Cousin, for I would fain also hear how Thandir and his fellows found you and as well I would hear the reason for the sons of Elrond being here rather than in Imladris... where they belong." He gave his elven brothers a rather pointed look that did not go unnoticed by some of the Rohirrim, especially Thengel.

"All in good time, Estel," Elrohir said with a gentle smile, ignoring his brother’s tone. "It’s best to tell our tales in their proper order."

"Then let us hear it," Thengel said, his voice decisive, as he nodded to Gilhael to continue.

Gilhael gave the King of Rohan a brief bow, then straightened, taking another sip of his ale before speaking. "I was in luck," he said, "for when I reached the hall I discovered that part of the northwestern wall had caved in just enough to allow me entry into the cellars beneath the hall...."

****

The timbers holding up the floor at this end of the hall were charred but not ruined. However, part of the wall had caved in, allowing ingress to the cellars. Gilhael stepped carefully, being mindful of the orcs above him. He could just make out a buzzing sound that he decided must be voices speaking further in and up. He was wishing for more light to see his way when the clouds parted and Ithil shone forth again. His light did not reach where Gilhael was, but the sky brightened, allowing him to see somewhat better. Much of these spaces were empty, but he needed to be careful nonetheless.

As far as he could determine he was approaching the center of the west wall of the hall, staying well away from the actual center where the fire pit would normally stand. Even with what little light there was he could see that that part of the hall had suffered the most damage and parts of the flooring had either caved in or simply disappeared. Anyone above would have to walk around the gap. No, he was actually near the west door and could see that sections of the foundation wall here were also in ruins. There were gaps in the structure which made his location more exposed than he liked but he didn’t dare move too much further in. There was a set of steps leading to the entrance and he was just behind them. He could now make out individual words being spoken above him, all in Westron, but only when someone shouted, otherwise what he heard was meaningless and he forced himself not to sigh in frustration.

Then luck, or something else, came his way. A set of footsteps thudded hollowly above him, and he heard the door opening and feet pounding the steps until a cloaked figure made his way around the stairs and stood facing him. The Ranger didn’t move and quickly slitted his eyes to keep the whites from showing without losing track of the figure. He thought perhaps he had been discovered and was prepared to take as many as he could before death found him. The Man, for now Gilhael could see it was indeed a Dunlending, was fumbling with something at his waist and the Ranger was sure he was going for his sword but instead there was a sigh almost of relief from the Man’s lips and Gilhael suddenly heard the hot hiss of urine striking the ground just before him.

It was all he could do not to laugh out loud at the very ordinariness of the situation, but even as he was stifling his laughter he was planning his next move. The Man finished relieving himself and again fumbled at the lacings of his breeches as he began to turn away. That is when Gilhael attacked, moving silently behind, pulling his knife from his belt and striking the Dunlending in the head with its hilt, rendering him unconscious. It was only a matter of minutes before he had dragged the hapless Man under the hall. He removed the Dunlending’s cloak and tied him up using the Man’s own belt, wrapping it around a post so it would be impossible for him to escape and gagging him as well, for he would not kill in cold blood. Then he removed his own cloak and threw it over the Dunlending to hide him further, grabbing the Dunlending’s cloak and putting it on him as he moved back towards the steps. He threw the hood up and made his way up the steps and inside the hall where....

****

"You did WHAT!" Aragorn cried in disbelief, leaping up in shock. Then, before anyone could act, he was upon Gilhael, grabbing him by the shoulders, shaking him and screaming at him in Adûnaic. Wídfara, who had been sitting next to the Dúnadan, was stunned by the anger his sweordbroðor was exhibiting. The Man was clearly incensed and not even speaking a language the young Rohir understood. The harshness of the syllables told him that Earntungol was not speaking any Elvish language. He could only make out a couple of words, and only because they tended to be repeated several times. One word sounded like noof and the other ooreek but their meanings escaped him.

The quickness of Aragorn’s attack on Gilhael was such that most were still staring in stunned surprise even after several seconds. However, the Elves were less impressed by what they were witnessing. Celegrýn and Gilgirion sat there motionless, their expressions bordering on boredom. Thandir gave a sigh and rolled his eyes at the twin sons of Elrond, both of whom had identical unreadable expressions on their faces. Finally, one of them, Elrohir as it turned out, stood up and went over to where Aragorn and Gilhael were shouting at one another, grabbed the backs of their heads and banged them together.

"Ow! What did you do that for, Elrohir?" Aragorn and Gilhael said almost at the same time, their expressions dazed. Gilhael even reeled a bit and would have fallen save for the fact that Elrohir was holding him steady with a single hand on the Man’s arm. The Elf did not appear to notice Gilhael’s weight as he sagged; he might as well have been holding up a feather for all the effect Gilhael had on him. If it hadn’t been so serious, it would have been funny, but Wídfara noticed that no one was laughing, least of all the Elves, and stealing a quick glance at Thengel, neither was the King. Elrohir merely stared at the two Mortals with an expression of disdain marring his fair immortal face.

"I weary of your histrionics, Estel," the Elf said coldly and everyone saw the young Dúnadan pale at the reprimand. "While Gilhael’s actions were... ludicrous to the extreme, they weren’t anything you wouldn’t have done in his place, so please let’s not pretend otherwise."

For the longest moment there was complete silence. Finally, Thengel cleared his throat and all turned their attention to him. His face was grim, though Wídfara thought he detected a glint of amusement deep in the king’s eyes. "I do not countenance the attacking of one of my Riders by another, however justified, Lord Thorongil," Thengel said softly, which just made his reprimand sound a hundred times worse than if he’d shouted. "You owe me, your cousin and this hall an apology for your unwarranted behavior."

Aragorn glanced at Gilhael and then at Elrohir, neither of whom gave away of what they were thinking, before turning back to Thengel, giving the king a bow. "I beg pardon, my lord, for my... rashness," he said quietly, yet without hesitation. "I fear the thought of my beloved cousin placing himself in such danger overrode my good sense." He turned to Gilhael, his expression more chagrined. "Please forgive me, Cousin, for my harsh words. You know how much I love you and would not want any evil to befall you."

"Yet, it did not," Elrohir said with inexorable logic, "for does he not stand before you, hale of body, if not necessarily of mind?" The last was said with such studied drollness that most of the listeners did not catch it. Aragorn, however, gave his elven brother a searching look and then recognizing the truth of the Elf’s words, nodded and bowed to him.

"You are, of course, correct, Lord Elrohir," he said formally. "I thank you for pointing out the error of my thinking."

Elrohir merely nodded but said nothing, the weight of twenty-eight centuries behind his air of authority as he looked upon this scion of his Uncle Elros whom he loved as his own brother, but whom he would not let get away with unwarranted behavior.

Then Aragorn turned to the rest of the hall. "And I crave pardon of you all," he said with another bow. "My actions were uncalled for and I regret my loss of temper. It will not happen again." This last was said more towards Thengel, who nodded his acceptance of Aragorn’s apology.

"Then it is forgiven and forgotten," Thengel said. "Come then," he reached over and took up a flagon of mead, pouring some into his own goblet. "Let you both drink from my cup in token of your reconciliation one with the other and with me."

Aragorn gave Gilhael, who had not spoken all this time, a glance and his cousin nodded. Together they stepped forward as Thengel rose with goblet in hand. The King addressed the entire hall. "Oft anger clouds reason between those whom we call kin, for blood calls to blood and fear for our loved ones can bring even the most sanguine of us to a state of wrath. It is the wise man who recognizes this tendency within himself and guards against it." He looked pointedly at Aragorn, who merely nodded. "Drink then in pledge of this: that you will endeavor not to kill your cousin in our presence again. At least wait until after we have left the hall."

Aragorn was not sure he had heard the king correctly and looked to Gilhael, who seemed equally uncertain as to what Thengel had just said. Turning back to the king, however, he saw the glint of humor in Thengel’s eyes and realized that, though his words were to be taken seriously, no breach of the king’s peace was intimated. Wídfara stifled a giggle from where he was seated and several other’s were smiling outright as Thengel offered his cup, first to Aragorn, who then offered it to Gilhael after drinking a third of its contents. Gilhael drank another third and then returned the goblet to Thengel who drained it in a single gulp.

"This matter between you and me is settled," Thengel stated as he sat down. "Now, I believe Tungolfród was about to do something both brave and foolish," he said with a smile. "Shall we hear him out ere we judge just how brave or foolish he truly was?"

Aragorn nodded, smiling shyly. "Aye, lord, let us even so."

"Lord Elrohir," Thengel then said, turning his attention to the younger son of Elrond. "We thank you for your timely intervention in restoring peace in our hall."

"The pleasure was all mine, Thengel King," Elrohir responded with a slight nod of his head, his mouth quirking at the corners in amusement.

Thengel nodded. "So now, let us resume listening to your tale, Tungolfród," he said. "I confess me that I’ve not been so entertained in many a long evening of late."

The others in the hall muttered their agreements to this statement and Gilhael bowed to the king as Aragorn and Elrohir returned to their seats. "As I was saying before I was so... er... rudely interrupted..." — soft laughter rang through the hall at that while Aragorn blushed again — "I entered the hall, keeping to the shadows, which were many for no fire had been lit. By now it was close to dawn and I knew I could not remain very long but I still hoped to learn something to our benefit. In the dimness of the light I counted a handful of orcs and perhaps four Dunlendings. They were apparently arguing as to where they should strike next. The orcs seemed to want to go further east while the Dunlendings were more inclined to head south...."

****

Gilhael kept as far away from the others as possible without seeming not to be a part of the group since he obviously should be. His main worry would be being noticed. He had no idea who the Man was whom he was replacing. He did not know if the Dunlending was an important leader of the group or a mere guard. So he tried to remain unobtrusive and gather as much information as possible. He was in luck in that other Dunlendings were standing about with their hoods up against the frigid temperature within the hall, but it was the only piece of luck he was to find, for whatever the final decision would be as to the course these marauders would take, he was doomed never to hear it.

One of the Dunlendings who had been talking turned half towards him. "What say you, Ulrad?" the Man asked. "Should we not head south rather than east?"

It took a fatal moment for Gilhael to realize that he was supposed to be this Ulrad. It didn’t matter that he did not answer, for it became abundantly clear to everyone there that he was not Ulrad when the dawn light came streaming through the slits between the timbers and open gaps in the east wall and illuminated everything. The orcs gave a shout and the Dunlendings weren’t far behind. Gilhael drew out his sword and struck down two Men and an orc before he was able to bolt for the door, praying that he would be able to escape the village. He made it down the steps and kept running without looking back, weaving between the burned-out buildings and dodging Men still blinded by sleep and the rising sun. It did not take long for them to realize what the to-do was about, however, and now Gilhael found he had to avoid being shot in the back as black-fletched arrows went whirring by him.

He cleared the village and headed straight for the Isen. It never occurred to him to run towards the other scouts. In fact, he simply assumed that they had actually followed his orders and left him....

****

"Háma said you were nearly at the river by the time he and the others were making their way from their campsite, but they did not wait to see if you’d made it," Aragorn told him.

Gilhael nodded. "It does not really surprise me that they endangered themselves by staying until it was almost too late," he stated equably. "I am only glad they had the good sense not to try to effect a rescue. That would have been suicide."

Thengel gave him a considering look. "Would you have obeyed such an order yourself, given the same circumstances?"

Gilhael shook his head. "Nay," he replied with a grin, "but then, I’m merely a reckless Ranger." He stole a look at the Elves whose expressions gave nothing away as to their thoughts. "Anyway, even if I were sure they were still at the campsite," he added, "I wouldn’t have led the Dunlendings towards them. Drawing the enemy after me was their only hope of leaving the area undetected."

Thengel nodded, satisfied by Gilhael’s answer.

"So did you make it to the river?" Wídfara asked impatiently, wanting to hear the end of the tale.

Gilhael chuckled along with the others in the hall. Even the Elves gave the young Man amused looks. "Aye, lad," the Ranger said. "I made it to the river, but only barely and I did not escape the Dunlendings cleanly....

****

Gilhael refused to look back, knowing such a move would slow him down, perhaps fatally. From the shouting coming from behind him, though, it was obvious the Dunlendings were in full pursuit. He did not think the orcs had followed now that Anor was up, but he would not discount it either. He was panting from the exertion now. The cloak had been long abandoned and now he was reluctantly divesting himself of sword and belt without bothering to slow down. He would have to wait until he was in the river before removing his boots, but he needed to be as unencumbered as possible if he were to succeed in escaping capture or death.

The sounds of pursuit were getting louder and the arrows were getting closer to their mark. Gilhael was almost at the river when he felt a burning pain in his back. Stifling a scream, he stumbled as waves of agony threatened to engulf him. He fought to stay conscious now that his goal was only a few feet away.

Then a second arrow found its mark in his upper right shoulder. This time he did scream, losing his balance at the edge of the bank. As he fought to right himself, he fell headlong into the river, banging his head on some driftwood, and then he knew nothing more...

****

"Well you obviously didn’t die," Aragorn said sardonically, giving his cousin a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Not for lack of trying, though," Thandir quipped before Gilhael could respond to Aragorn’s words. This set everyone laughing.

"So what happened next?" Wídfara asked but before Gilhael could respond Thandir stood.

"Nay, good Wídfara," the Elf said with a smile for the young Man. "The next part of this tale is ours to tell." He gestured to the other Elves who all nodded.

The young Rohir sighed dramatically even as Gilhael bowed to Thandir and took his seat next to Aragorn. The other Rohirrim grinned as goblets were filled with more mead or ale and legs were stretched until all were once again settled. Then Thandir took the floor and with a brief bow to Thengel he began to speak.

****

Æsctun: Ash-tree town.

Note: Aragorn I was killed in T.A. 2327, 631 years earlier. The manner of his death and the regency of his heir are non-canon.

The words in Adûnaic that Wídfara heard as ‘noof’ and ‘ooreek’ are nûph ‘fool’ and urîk ‘orcs’.