Chapter 7

Excitement filled the air as the visitors from three other settlements flooded Celos Galen. The ellith who had watched over Haldir and his ellyn continued to do so, answering questions, directing meetings, and assisting in any way they could.

“Tales of your skills as crafters and might with weapons have spread even to my community many leagues away,” one chieftain told Haldir.  “My crafters look forward to exchanging lore with you, and the ellyn of my settlement wish to test themselves against your bows and spears – just to see if the rumors are true.”

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Two full turns of the stars later, Angaril met up with his brethren from Lórien in a secluded spot where their companions frequently met. “I cannot believe what these folk are putting me through!  Haldir, is there nothing you can do?”

Feeling equally harassed, Haldir replied helplessly, “Angaril, I swear to you that if I could I would. My sanity hangs by a thread as well.”

“May I at least have permission to slap or even just partially dismember the next person who tugs on my braids asking me to explain why an ellon would want such fancy trappings and to prove my prowess as a fighter?” Ferevellon begged. “I promise my blade will be swift and my aim true. The blood will only spray enough to silence these backward fools.”

“Yes, please!” his twin begged with equal fervor while the others nodded vigorously in agreement. “My blade will be swift as well. I promise!”

Their captain just shook his head, coughing suddenly to mask the laugh that tried to escape. “I understand how you feel. Truly I do. I am dealing with endless questions about training and where did we learn what we know and why did we leave Lothlórien in the first place. And everyone wants me to prove myself as well.”

“And did you have to distract your lovely chaperone and the lovely little new chaperones we have suddenly acquired from the other settlements and then run as if you were being chased by a warg in order to even make it here to meet unaccompanied?” Orophin asked.

Rúmil and the twins rolled their eyes and gestured in exasperated agreement. 

“You are not commenting, Brother,” Orophin observed.

Haldir and Angaril remained silent, suddenly looking elsewhere.

Rúmil cleared his throat loudly. “So, ah…” he poked Haldir in the arm that had been injured, directly over the scar which still occasionally pained him while Orophin jabbed Angaril in the ribs.

The two remained stoic despite the assault. “Nothing to say, I see.” Orophin chided.

“Our chaperones obviously are more efficient than yours and have managed to keep the other ellith at bay,” Angaril blurted out.

“Ah… so they are efficient…What a very Noldorin compliment you give them. I’m sure they would be flattered to hear you say such things about them,” Fereveldir commended sarcastically. “I suppose they are also very utilitarian.”

“Efficiency matters to the folk of Celos Galen and is an admired quality,” Angaril defended, a flush creeping up his cheeks.

“We need to gain the acceptance and respect of as many folk as possible if we are to survive here. This means we must be polite to all of these people, no matter their gender or the settlement from which they hail,” Haldir said, attempting to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“I suppose that having the chieftain’s granddaughter hanging on your arm for all to see does much to help you gain acceptance and respect among these different folk,” Rúmil observed.

“She has been advising me on how best to gain the support and respect of the other chieftains and their councils,” Haldir sniffed haughtily.

“Ohhhhhh! So I guess that means that she has been, shall we say, counseling you in diplomacy during all of those excursions down by the falls these last few turns of the stars before the others arrived.” Rúmil nodded sagely.

Haldir flushed crimson, his expression set in stone, but his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as if he were crushing something.

“I believe you strike very near the mark,” Orophin commended Rúmil, clapping him on the back. “Very near indeed, my brother.”

At that moment, Angaril’s chaperone Nélliriel and Haldir's Gilwen rushed up and wrapped their arms around Angaril’s and Haldir’s arms respectively.

“Oh, what a blessing! You managed to get away, too!” Gilwen exclaimed breathlessly. “Come! Let us go down to the falls and escape from everyone!”

Haldir and Angaril flashed the ellith brilliant, indulgent smiles as they turned, allowing themselves to be led away.

“If you will excuse us, friends,” Haldir nodded over his shoulder, but the glare he gave the four left behind was filled with all of the politeness of a balrog’s whip.

The sound of chuckles and laughter followed the two couples as they disappeared into the trees.

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The ellon stood breathless and bloody before Saelon, the other chieftains, and the eldest edair of each of the families. For the first time, the gathering of elders included Haldir for he was the eldest of the group from Lothlórien.

“My Lord, they…they were huge…we were just the other side of the stand of elms and they…they came at us from the tops of the trees,” He pressed a bloody hand to his side where a crimson stain continued to spread across his torn shirt . “Wh…why? We are so very many with the other settlements gathered here for many turns of the stars already. Why did they attack?”

“How many were in your group?” The ellon’s chieftain asked.

“Twenty,” the ellon panted, growing paler. “We…we were preparing the kill from the hunt for the feast later and they suddenly attacked. We never even heard them come.”

“The stand of elms is very close to the borders of Celos Galen. They grow bolder. How many of the creatures were there?” Haldir asked grimly.

“I…I know not, my Lord. At least as many as were we. Perhaps more.”

“Gwilwileth!” Saelon called loudly, looking for his daughter-in-law among the swiftly gathering crowd. “We need healers immediately to tend this ellon and to see to the other injured out by the elms.”

“Captain Haldir, assemble our warriors. We are in need of your services once again.”

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The warriors from Lórien were the first to arrive at the mustering, dressed in full gear and heavily armed. The new warriors, unused to much more than drills and sparring took longer to gather.

“Be assured, we will be practicing muster for battle every turn of the stars for a long time,” Haldir glowered in disapproval as the last new warrior took his place in line. “You have taken entirely too long to assemble.”

“Muster?” Sûllindo the chieftain of the nearest settlement to Celos Galen, asked as he looked with interest on the warriors. “What is that?”

Haldir resisted the urge to sigh in annoyance. This was not the time to be educating visitors. “The call to arms and gathering of fighters.”

Sûllindo and others not of Celos Galen nodded in understanding at the new term, a few mouthing it silently.

“So these are warriors,” Sûllindo observed, trying out the new word. “How come only the ones from Lothlórien wear these side braids?  Are they not all warriors? Many of our ellyn are excellent fighters and they do not wear their hair this way. And what is this strange garb?”

“The honor of wearing the braids is earned and the garb is called armor,” Saelon replied, noticing Haldir’s growing impatience. “I will tell you more of warriors and their clothing, weapons, and ways later. For now we must be silent and listen as Haldir directs them.”

Nodding his profound gratitude, Haldir turned back to his troops and briefed them on the situation. 

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“There are fresh marks here as well,” Fereveldir called from high up in yet another tree. “Brethil, look over here,” he said, gesturing to the elf on the opposite side of the bole from him. “See how these differ from each of the others we have seen? Two of the creatures descended from this tree.”

“Captain, we count five more which attacked from this direction,” Brethil reported, his voice betraying both pride in his new warrior status and fear at the implications of the dread news he was delivering.

“Haldir,” Saelon said gravely, his voice trembling slightly. “That…that is 25 creatures total!”

Haldir nodded. “And they surrounded the ellyn before they attacked, blocking all means of escape.”

“In my experience, the only time spiders attack in this manner is when they are preparing to breed,” Angaril offered as he jumped the last few feet from the tree he had scaled with one of the trainees dropping down right behind him.

“Preparing to breed?” the other two chieftains echoed in alarm.

“Do we not have enough of them already?” The heir of one of the chieftains asked.

Haldir smiled briefly as he gestured for the warriors to join him. “Well, apparently they do not think so.”

“Do we know in which direction they escaped afterward?” he asked.

“North!” the replies came from the scouts one after another.

“And given what we know of the local history,” Rúmil said in a low voice, speaking Sindarin for his comrades hearing only. “That makes a great deal of sense.”

“I had no idea Morgoth’s reach extended so far so early,” Haldir replied quietly, shaking his head in dismay.

“The Noldor are not here yet and if Menegroth has not yet been established… Then there is no one yet to stop him,” Orophin commented.

“Except us,” Haldir replied.

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“I disagree. It is too dangerous! I will not risk the sons of my settlement on so foolish a venture.  Saelon, you should just move your folk. It is the wisest thing to do and what we always have done.”

Haldir smiled grimly. “I do not ask you to risk the sons of your settlements. My warriors and I will be the ones to go. At some point you will have to stop running. Would you have them chase you all the way to the sea?”

“The what?” a chorus of confused voices asked at once.

Haldir turned away from the assembled elders of the three settlements, wiping his hand across his face as he softly swore in Sindarin. Mentally he kicked himself. Of course they would not know what the sea was! Bah! What was he thinking?! Sometimes it was so frustrating talking to these simple-minded folk! Well, perhaps not simple-minded, just ignorant and naive.

He sighed and took a few deep breaths to give himself time to gather his thoughts. A hand gripped his shoulder and he turned to meet Saelon’s concerned gaze.

“The sea, my son? What is the sea?” he asked.

“If you travel as far west as possible across the land, then you will come to the great expanse of water that Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë crossed to get to Valinor which is the new land the Belain promised to the elves. The expanse of water is called the sea,” Haldir patiently explained.

“He truly is well-steeped in lore,” the other chieftains remarked, nodding their heads sagely. “Saelon, you are greatly blessed to have one so learned join your folk.”

Saelon smiled proudly. “Indeed, I am blessed.” Turning back to Haldir he asked, “Do you truly believe that hunting the creatures is the wisest thing to do at this time? What you propose has not been done before.”

“My Lord, I ask only that you give us the chance to try. We need to know where these creatures come from and how many they number. If we can destroy their lair before they reproduce, then perhaps we can assure the continued safety not only of Celos Galen, but of the other settlements as well.”

Saelon stood silently in thought for a few moments, then sighed, “Take the warriors and see what you can learn, Captain Haldir. If you think you can destroy the creatures without undue risk to our ellyn, then do so. If not, then return and we will plan the move of the settlement. I trust your judgment in this.” 

“Yes, my Lord,” Haldir replied, relieved. “And thank you for trusting me.”

Haldir bowed and turned to leave, but Saelon grabbed his arm, staying him briefly. “I am trusting you with the lives of many sons. Let that trust be well-founded, Haldir.”

Haldir clasped his chieftain’s shoulder as he assured, “It will be, my Lord. I promise.”

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