The Great Tales of Beleriand: Definitive Edition by Chilled in Hithlum

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Part Nine: Desperate Hearts

The following takes place in Dorthonion during the same time period as the previous chapter.  Here we look at the hopelessness of Barahir's plight but focus mainly on the decisions of the unfortunate Gorlim and how one choice made in deceit, no matter how futile as it turns out to be, can lead to mistrust between friends...   

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The Great Tales of Beleriand

 

Part Nine: Desperate Hearts.

 

[The following takes place in Dorthonion during Sauron’s sojourn in Angband…]

 

Voice of Eilinel: “No rumours of the world without ever reached Dorthonion: save only in the abodes of the wicked! And for a former bustling territory with so many passes in or out we became essentially landlocked, cut off from the life-giving rivers and rent asunder from our life-enriching kin!”

[Orcs and Wolves sack the villages and homesteads of Men, now desolate …]

Voice of Eilinel: “Alas… wretched was the lot of Barahir, an outlawed lord in his own land, whose Men were pursued and slain one by one by an enemy that he would not nor could not treat with or lend any credence.”

[A young man pursued by an unseen foe runs blindly in the night when at length he stops, panting heavily; he looks about warily to listen and find his bearings, the sounds of his enemies seem to have fallen away…]

Beren: “They have turned westward; it worked!”

[He presses on…]

Voice of Eilinel: “So it was that Beren, Son of Barahir, sped to the dwelling place of his father with tidings that, had he but known it, would change the lives of us all…”

[He pounds on the door of a sheltered groundskeeper’s lodge south of the fields that surround the once grand home of his parents, his father answers…]

Barahir: “My Son…”

[Beren stumbles exhausted into his arms…]

Barahir: “Are you hurt?”

Beren: “I came as soon as I could, Father… I…”

[Barahir carries his son into the humble two-roomed dwelling; there is broth on the flame as he inspects Beren for signs of injury, finding none he clears the spare seat of clutter and sits him by the fire. Finding himself an insufficient nursemaid Barahir fusses pointlessly over the weary young man until when at last Beren accepts a tepid bowlful from the pot in order to curb his attentions…]

Beren: “We have to leave, Father; this place shall soon be overrun!”

Barahir: “I swore a solemn oath!”

Beren: “Nay, I mean that we must forsake this roof; our enemies are destroying and burning every dwelling in their path, it is a matter of time ere they detect this lodge!”

Barahir: “To where then do you propose we go?”

Beren: “Somewhere high…”

Barahir: “You mean Aeluin; has it come to that?”

Beren: “Ay, Lord Father, it has!”

Barahir: “And the refuge there?”

Beren: “Alas no…”

Barahir: “I gave the order months ago!”

Beleg: “Without the time, provision nor manpower no construction occurred…”

Barahir: “I see it now, over late; I have spread you all too thinly…”

Beren: “The Blessed Tarn is our only source of clean water!”

Barahir: “Very well, if the road is high then the choice is already made!”

[Beren pauses deep in thought…]

Barahir: “What is it, Son; what else have you withheld?”

Beren: “Matters are worse Father, far worse; they are hunting us like beasts, picking us off for their own sport. Unit by unit they chase us down with Wolves, we are herded apart and those too slow are ripped to shreds. This is no mere Orkish devilry, I have witnessed nothing else like it; mayhap Morgoth himself has ventured forth from his pit to finish us off?”

Barahir: “Morgoth or one in his stead; tell me, how many are we?”

Beren: “Too few…”

Barahir: “Curses: how long should it take to assemble everyone at Aeluin?”

Beren: “At a guess, a week… ten days!”

Barahir: “Send out the swiftest runners at first light and call everybody to Aeluin!”

Beren: “I will go…”

Barahir: “Not this time, Son, I need you at my side!”

 

Several days later…

The home of Gorlim and Eilinel…

 

[Dusk: Gorlim enters the house, he removes the rug covering the trapdoor and raps twice and then once… his wife emerges.]

Eilinel: “Husband praise-be, I thought that I was discovered; I am certain that I heard snoopers outside last night and have dared not move all day. I expected you this morning, where were you?”

Gorlim: “All is well: I am here now…”

[They embrace…]

Eilinel: “I thought it was too dangerous for you to come here after dark…”

Gorlim: “It is not yet dark but soon will be, Eilinel, in many ways: I have grave news!”

Eilinel: “What, what is it?”

Gorlim: “The agents of Morgoth are spreading with speed across the land; we have sustained many loses, mainly in the north.”

Eilinel: “Alas, I feared as much with the coming of night prowlers.”

Gorlim: “There is more…”

[He produces a slip of parchment…]

Eilinel: “Here, let me see!”

Gorlim: “It is encrypted, I shall read to you!”

[She grabs the missive away from him…]

Eilinel: “No, I would see for myself; besides you taught me the codes, remember?”

[She strains to read the words in the gloom…]

Eilinel: “You were not followed?”

Gorlim: “Nay, I am certain of it!”

Eilinel: “Then perhaps a little light, my eyes cannot properly adjust…”

[Gorlim strikes a tallow-dip and setting its saucer down on the mantle he hears his wife’s soft sobbing…]

Eilinel: “Tomorrow at midday… so soon?”

Gorlim: “If not sooner, Barahir requires a headcount in all haste; noon is the latest time possible for us to up-camp if we are to benefit from the daylight!”

Eilinel: “Whatever shall you do?”

Gorlim: “Return of course; what else can I do?”

Eilinel: “Flee: let us flee, now… tonight!”

Gorlim: “I swore an oath, Eilinel; an oath to defend lord and land!”

Eilinel: “Forsake it: forsake this place as has Ilúvatar!”

Gorlim: “Lady, you forget yourself!”

Eilinel: “I hold not that station! I am a young wife denied the first fruits of marriage clinging to the last threads of… I know not what!”

[She clutches him tightly sobbing into his shoulder…]

Gorlim: “I cannot abandon Lord Barahir in his hour of need!”

Eilinel: “You yourself said it and this document makes it clear: Lord Barahir is unaware whether you live or not, we could…”

Gorlim: “Yes but…”

Eilinel: “We could leave undetected; we could… please Husband!”

Gorlim: “Ragnor knows that I live ‘twas he that handed me Barahir’s orders. There is naught else for it beloved, you must remove with me to Tarn Aeluin; the refuge there must be built by now!”

Eilinel: “We have kept our secret too long, Barahir would…”

Gorlim: “Yes our lord will be wroth, with me most of all, but our numbers are too few and he needs every fighting man; and besides, whither would he banish us?”

Eilinel: “That road is too perilous dire for us to take now; did you not say that the way north is strewn with hunters?”

Gorlim: “You would be under the protection of the company!”

Eilinel: “A company that in all likelihood would come under attack; how could any of you defend yourselves and protect me at the same time? Moreover, I would only slow your progress… your plan is without hope!”

Gorlim: “Then we are lost!”

Eilinel: “Nay, Gorlim, I said your plan is without hope not mine!”

[He stares blankly to the floor…]

Eilinel: “It is the best option if we are to remain together; can you not see?”

Gorlim: “Eilinel, matters are grave you must listen! Earlier today Ragnor heard of the slaying of his brother at the hands of the hunters; indeed only one of that scouting-party survived and by his reckoning the enemy shall be upon by the morrow…”

Eilinel: “All the more reason for haste!”

Gorlim: “A moment please… I have not finished! In the face of such sorrow Ragnor did not despair, he was already making plans to counter our foes when the order came from Tarn Aeluin - I beg you, do not ask me to dishonour such courage!”

Eilinel: “I like Ragnor well and I mourn for his loss, truly I do; but…”

Gorlim: “But..! But..! …but what, Eilinel?”

Eilinel: “Do not despise me, Gorlim: please!”

Gorlim: “I could never despise you, Beloved; I am sorry…”

Eilinel: “I have an idea, it will break your heart to hear it but I can see no other way…”

[As Eilinel continues the viewpoint changes to a nighttime exterior: a small cottage sits in a forest clearing with candlelight flickering from a single window…]

Eilinel: “Go back to the camp, be seen… act naturally; tell them that you heard something queer on your return and would investigate it…”

Gorlim: “Like what?”

Eilinel: “I do not know… anything… but make it sound trifling enough so that you might go alone!”

 

The southern reaches of Dorthonion…

 

[Night: a lone figure treads warily beneath the canopy of the trees, the full moon shines behind bare branches like a fractured plate on black satin…]

Voice of Eilinel: “You must find a fallen brother…”

[The man stops in his tracks…]

Voice of Eilinel: “One disfigured and unidentifiable…”

[He raises his axe… hesitates… and looses a blow…]

Voice of Eilinel: “Dress him in your attire…”

[Fumbling hands unfasten a breastplate…]

Voice of Eilinel: “Take him to a place where he can be easily found by your fellows on the morrow; I shall make ready for our departure and await you here…”

[Gorlim tearfully lifts the cadaver under the arms and drags him from the place whence he fell…]

 

The following week…

Tarn Aeluin…

 

[Midday: Barahir addresses the remnant of his company…]

Barahir: “The third year of our tribulation shall soon be drawing to its close; one in which we have suffered the heaviest loses since the Bragollach. Unspeakable ill has befallen each of us in defence of this narrow land that has grown overly large to govern: twenty-four cannot ever hope to hold it. The House of Bëor is facing extinction! It is obvious now that the war for us is lost but if we fall we fall together, either fighting or striving; not like beasts caught in the nets of the perverted!”

[General cheering, but Barahir gestures them to silence with his hands…]

Barahir: “None have come to our deliverance and I deem it now that none shall!”

Beren: “Send word to Nargothrond: King Finrod will have not forgotten us!”

Barahir: “And which envoy would you propose; there are none now here that know where it lies…”

Beren: “I do, Father; you forget that I have already set foot in his halls…”

Barahir: “I forget nothing! The journey is too hazardous in these days for one alone, the answer is no!”

Beren: “But Father…”

Barahir: “You have my decision!”

Radhruin: “My Lord, more and more enemies withdraw northward each day; even Ragnor’s company reached this place unmolested coming from the southern reaches. Perhaps now is the best time to go?”

Barahir: “In this we are agreed, but not so far; the shorter the distance the cheaper the fare, and indeed the better shall we fare! Nay, ’tis not Finrod we need look to but Fingon and our kin. That is the swifter road to salvation: for so spake my wife ere she departed, in Hithlum the lineage of the House of Bëor will become mingled and forgotten…”

Beren: “And what of our oaths, Father?”

Barahir: “Ah, well therein lays the choice!!”

Radhruin: “What choice, Lord?”

Barahir: “Strange have been the reports to reach my ears in these last few days; not least the removal of Orcs when they had our companies beset and hemmed in. Naught that I have heard makes much sense to me and I cannot rightly say, yea or nay, if there is a last hope for any of us… But I can say this: oaths you have sworn to me and for this night only I release you from them, in order that you take counsel with yourselves and your fellows so that on morrow’s first light we can vote on whether or never to depart this land for Hithlum!”

[A heavy silence descends as the company bow their heads in deep thought: Barahir moves amongst them and clasping a shoulder here or patting a back there he shares a brief word with each. At length he stands before them once again…]

Barahir: “We stand together this day as equals and so hereafter so shall it be; a heavy doom is laid before our feet and is not like to shift soon, therefore I say to thee Brothers of Bëor shall we not feast together beforehand ere the dusk attempts to swallow up our hope?”

[For that shortest of times their hearts are lifted and they all unite in the preparation of that meal; all save one, for Gorlim strayed from the group when Barahir moved among them and alone he stares into the mirrored waters of Tarn Aeluin…]

Voice of Eilinel: “I shall make ready for our departure and await you here…”

 

One week ago…

The home of Gorlim and Eilinel…

 

[Early morning: Gorlim returns to his house to find the front door wide open…]

Gorlim: “Eilinel… you are an eager one; I am sorry it took so long but …Eilinel?”

[Within he finds many items missing, including his wife; he lifts the trapdoor, now exposed, and calls out to her… no reply! Growing ever desperate he scours the little house, searching in ridiculous places like cupboards and drawers for his beloved; realising his folly he stops, panting for breath…]

Gorlim: “Mayhap she had to leave in a hurry; but surely she could not have carried all these things with her… The barrow: of course, she has gone on ahead!”

[He makes to move but another thought checks him…]

Gorlim: “To where though?”

[His eyes light on the mantle and the encrusted fingers of tallow creeping over the saucer’s rim; a horror takes him and he abandons the house and searching for his wife he goes the way he came…]

Voice of Eilinel: “Had Gorlim but checked the rear of the house then he could not have failed to notice an upturned barrow with scattered jumble all around…”

[As he wonders aimlessly under the canopy of the Unscorched Forest a familiar voice calls out to him…]

Gorlim: “Why did we not decide where we were going to ahead of time?”

Ragnor: “It is decided; Aeluin, we are going to Aeluin!”

Gorlim: “Ragnor, oh… I did not see you!”

Ragnor: “You look terrible, where have you been?”

Gorlim: “What… I…”

Ragnor: “No matter: come and collect your things, we are almost ready to leave!”

Gorlim: “It is not yet noon!”

Ragnor: “No, and we are hardly a full garrison; come on now!”

 

[Gorlim looks at his crisp reflection unmoving on the waters of Aeluin, he drops in a pebble to distort it; the image changes to a ragged column of Men on the move…]

 

Ragnor: “You have certainly given us all quite a scare!”

Gorlim: “How so?”

[Another pebble drops into the water and ripples distort Gorlim’s face once more this time to reveal a chained prisoner in Angband suspended by the arms, the hooded figure of Sauron circles him: the dialogue between Gorlim and Ragnor continues…]

Voice of Ragnor: “You left camp last night ne’er to return and go unseen until I find you roaming insensible; then there is the matter of the poor dead wretch in your garb deposited outside our camp this morning. Gorlim, my friend, what is going on?”

Voice of Gorlim: “As I told you last night I went to investigate a curious sound: that it turned out was a brace of foxes bringing down a fawn…”

[An Orc lands a punch on the prisoner’s gut…]

Voice of Ragnor: “You have heard ravening foxes before, surely?”

Voice of Gorlim: “Ay, but not combined with the wail of a hapless doe unable to defend her young; it is eerie, all the more verily when that sound carries across the Ringing Ridge…”

[Another punch…]

Voice of Ragnor: “The Ringing Ridge, you ventured that far?”

Voice of Gorlim: “Not I, the sound only; do you not recall the northerly wind last night?”

Voice of Ragnor: “I recall how loud was…”

[And yet another…]

Voice of Gorlim: “Truly, and that coupled together with the sound of foxes in carnage one might imagine how odd the sound?”

Voice of Ragnor: “I am beginning to…”

[Sauron, laughing, removes his hood…]

Voice of Gorlim: “You disbelieve me?”

[A punch to the face…]

Voice of Ragnor: “I did not say that! Gorlim, you have known me long enough to realise that I do not mince my words…”

[The prisoner spits blood…]

Voice of Ragnor: “However as you say, it sounds odd!”

Voice of Gorlim: “It was!”

[A gauntleted hand under the chin lifts up his head…]

Voice of Ragnor: “Very well! So, you found a dead fawn: what then?”

Voice of Gorlim: “There were bloodied fox tracks all about but the doe had not abandoned the scene…”

[Sauron gives an expression of mock concern…]

Voice of Gorlim: “I thought that some venison might sustain us on our road to Aeluin but I had left my bow behind at camp: remember, you saw me collect it earlier?”

[The metallic hand pats the prisoner’s face…]

Voice of Ragnor: “Ay, I recollect something like that! Mm, venison would have been welcome but alack it seems that we were not meant to have any! How is it that you did not return afterward?”

[A pointed finger runs upward across his cheek…]

Voice of Gorlim: “The beast looked so emaciated that I fancied my chances with an axe…”

[It stops close to the tear duct…]

Voice of Ragnor: “I see…”

Voice of Gorlim: “Well, it seemed to me that if the foxes were so successful why not I; but a deer and a fawn are two different propositions…”

[The point descends back sharply leaving a cut alongside the prisoner’s nose…]

Voice of Ragnor: “Quite so!”

[Sauron’s face twists in anger…]

Voice of Gorlim: “But ere I could ready a throw the creature perceived my thought and fled…”

[The prisoner’s expression afraid…]

Voice of Ragnor: “And naturally you gave chase…”

Voice of Gorlim: “She was limping from her wounds…”

[Sauron forms his hand into a blade and punctures the prisoner’s side…]

Voice of Ragnor: “Come now, Gorlim, what is this tale?”

[The chains are released and the prisoner falls to the floor…]

Voice of Gorlim: “So you do think me a liar?”

[Sauron leaves and the prisoner is dragged away…]

Voice of Ragnor: “For the sake of our friendship I will not call you ‘Liar’; however, there is plainly something troubling you and it is not a dead fawn!”

[Another pebble plops and the image of Gorlim reforms…]

Voice of Ragnor: “I could impel the account from you but I will not, not unless I must; I would much rather that you unburden yourself freely!”

 

[An early gloom descended that day looking into the waters of Aeluin when Gorlim felt a hand on his shoulder…]

 

Ragnor: “Gorlim, our repast awaits; it is venison, can you not smell it?”

[Gorlim follows, choosing to ignore the pointedness of the remark; at the camp he notes that a gloom has also settled upon Barahir’s company…]

Gorlim: “High words uttered at low noon seldom remain bright for long…”

Ragnor: “Yet remain the better for having been said! Though I marvel at this coming from one of whom which has barely spoken a word this whole week… There is much more to digest this night other than deer!”

Gorlim: “I am sorry, that was ill judged!”

[He scuffs the ground with his boot in self reproach…]

Ragnor: “Gorlim, will you not share my table such as it is?”

Gorlim: “You mean the ground upon which we stand?”

[They share a brief smile in reconciliation ere joining in line to receive their ration; once served both sit apart from the others and eat, at length Ragnor speaks…]

Ragnor: “It is said that these waters were hallowed in ages past by Melian herself…”

Gorlim: “Ragnor…”

Ragnor: “It seems that she…”

Gorlim: “Rag-Nor!”

Ragnor: “Yes, Gorlim…”

Gorlim: “I repent of the lies I told!”

Ragnor: “I have seen it weigh upon you each day since leaving the encampment: for what reason would you do it?”

Gorlim: “My w-”

[Presently Barahir comes amid them…]

Barahir: “All is well do not get up; Ragnor is it, you captained in the southern marches?”

Ragnor: “Ay Lord, although I came by that office through ill fortune…”

Barahir: “That is oft the way of it, alas! I understand from the men that your brother fell just last week…”

Ragnor: “Sadly, yes!”

Barahir: “I am unhappy to hear it; tell me, what was his name?”

Ragnor: “Randol, he was a scout among our company!”

Barahir: “Perhaps you will tell me about him some time soon; though be assured Captain, ‘Randol the Scout’ shall be entered into the annals of our Exemplary Dead!”

Ragnor: “Thank you Lord, but many others fell besides him…”

Barahir: “Ay and all of them had names; hopefully if memory will serve we shall reckon them all!”

[They bow their heads…]

Barahir: “Pray tell, who is your silent companion?”

Ragnor: “This is Gorlim, a warrior brave!”

Barahir: “Would you add any names to the annals, Gorlim?”

Gorlim: “Nobody in particular, My Lord!”

Barahir: “Your kin perhaps?”

Gorlim: “I have no kin save for my brethren in arms…”

Barahir: “What of your father?”

Gorlim: “He died some years ere the Bragollach!”

Barahir: “What was his name?”

[Gorlim averts eyes from the attentiveness of Barahir’s…]

Gorlim: “Angrim, if it pleases…”

Barahir: “Would that be ‘Angrim Iron-hand’ perchance?”

Gorlim: “He did go by that name, yes!”

Barahir: “I believe he served under my father and brother!”

Gorlim: “That is so!”

Barahir: “He was a man of great renown in the field… and worthy of remembrance!”

[Gorlim looks to the ground making no answer…]

Barahir: “It grows suddenly chill! Well, you are both welcome to join us for mead by the fire; for now I shall leave you to your meals...”

Ragnor: “Thank you, Lord, we shall come directly…”

[Barahir leaves…]

Ragnor: “That was poorly met, Gorlim!”

Gorlim: “Reminders of my father do not leave me in a courteous temper…”

Ragnor: “Why not?”

Gorlim: “A man of great renown, bah! I tell you Ragnor, Mighty Angrim did not make use of his Iron-hand in the field only; would that my poor beaten mother was still here to demonstrate the truth of my words with her bruises…”

[He sets the remnants of his platter aside…]

Ragnor: “Regrettable as that sounds there is no cause for incivility to your liege-lord!”

Gorlim: “I shall set it right soon enough…”

Ragnor: “See that you do! Now, to the matter between us that needs must be set aright…”

Gorlim: “Can it not wait?”

Ragnor: “I think not!”

Voice of Eilinel: “Why Gorlim said what he did thereafter he could never again fathom; but even a faithful beast will lash out at a friend or master if hurt and cornered…”

Gorlim: “I did hear a deathly wailing that night, Ragnor; I did! When I returned to investigate it the sound called to me again; echoing back sad and low from the Ringing Ridge. And then… and then I saw it; I could scarce believe my eyes!”

Ragnor: “Saw what, Gorlim?”

Gorlim: “The wraith of Randol, your brother!”

Ragnor: “Liar, how could you?”

Gorlim: “Yes I lied before and I have admitted my guilt but I did so only to spare you from this horror!”

[Ragnor holds his head in his hands trying to weigh these words…]

Ragnor: “You are telling me it is for this reason that you have been so withdrawn inside your own thought?”

Gorlim: “I am…”

[Ragnor sits a moment in bemusement…]

Ragnor: “What happened after?”

Gorlim: “It… he… the… Randol beckoned me to follow and I did; and as one rapt in this vision I cannot rightly say how far we walked together or for how long. At length he led me to the point where our fallen brother lay…”

Ragnor: “Fallen you say; he was already dead?”

Gorlim: “Alive, but barely so.”

Ragnor: “Judging by his appearance he must have been suffering…”

Gorlim: “He was: greatly!”

Ragnor: “Thus you fitted him in your own hauberk and breastplate?”

Gorlim: “Yes and tightly too since his armour was split at one side; I had no swaddling bands about me to stem the blood …”

Ragnor: “That must have been agony for him…”

[Gorlim nods ruefully but gives no other response...]

Ragnor: “Where was my brother in all this, his wraith I mean?”

Gorlim: “He ascended to the treetops and watched from above…”

Ragnor: “And he made no words?”

Gorlim: “The dead are mute are they not..?”

Ragnor: “Yet they wail!”

Gorlim; “No speech was there between Randol and me whilst he was visible to my eyes… or any other sound either!”

Ragnor: “So it is your assertion that my dead brother’s sole purpose here was to lead you to this dying man… and back again?”

Gorlim: “I saw him nevermore once I begun to haul the stricken fellow away; though thinking on it now I do feel that an invisible hand guided me back to camp. I am not learned in such things, Ragnor, but yes I guessed it then and deem it now: this was your brother’s final act of mercy ere passing beyond these shores…”

Ragnor: “My brother was a kindly man, even more so in less evil times, and I believe him capable of such mercy; but to add to another’s suffering… surely it is more merciful to finish off a man beyond saving?”

Gorlim: “You are right of course. But night brings many thoughts and the heart can overtake reason; it is entirely possible, indeed highly probable, that I misread your brother’s true intent and, and…”

[Visibly shaken he breaks off…]

Ragnor: “What is it?”

Gorlim: “Having witnessed your courage earlier that day, even in light of the news of your own brother’s death, I suppose that I wanted to help this poor comrade fading before my eyes…”

Ragnor: “I understand, Gorlim, truly I do…”

[A tear then a flood runs down Gorlim’s face as he watches the falsehood take root in the heart of his friend…]

 

The following morning Barahir addresses his company…

 

Barahir: “The time has come at last for us to decide whether to stay and hold this land to the last of us as we have sworn or to renounce that ideal and rejoin our loved ones in Hithlum; either way the decision is yours! Now, once the votes have been cast the oaths that I released you from shall be reset and each of us will be newly bound to and toward whatsoever direction it leads! Am I heard?”

[General shouts of assent…]

Barahir: “Beside me on this tree stump is a goblet and twenty-three black pebbles; each of you shall take a pebble and etch it with either one line for stay or two lines for go then place it inside the goblet to be counted thereafter… very well, you may proceed!”

Radhruin: “Only twenty-three, Lord?”

Barahir: “I shall not be voting since I am unable to release myself from a self-proclaimed oath, though I can remake it anew based on your choices; moreover, twenty-four is an even number which may lead to the possibility of a split decision. Nay, this method is the surer!”

Beren: “How long do we have?”

Barahir: “You have had all night: time is commodity in short supply, I expect your answer within ten minutes!”

[Gorlim joins Ragnor as the men take their pebbles and mark each one according to individual choice…]

Gorlim: “I find myself once more a penitent before to you…”

Ragnor: “On what grounds?”

Gorlim: “My un-manful display of tears yester-eve…”

Ragnor: “Bah, set it at naught, Gorlim; I have!”

Gorlim: “I shall, you have my thanks!”

Ragnor: “Though I would know how it was that on that day we found a cadaver outside camp but not you?”

Gorlim: “I must have collapsed dead tired on my return for I recollect waking beside the body, it was still dark and I could not judge the hour. So much is still a blur to me but what I remember most of all the tackiness of dried blood on my hands whence I had dragged him, yet I cannot even state when he had stopped breathing!”

Ragnor: “So much for him, what about you?”

[Gorlim scratches deeper into the pebble with his knife…]

Gorlim: “ Whilst you all slept I must have stole into camp to recover a change of clothing, I must have; for the next that thing I know as a certainty is waking by the hill streams washed and changed…”

Ragnor: “Two hours I searched for you, Gorlim…”

[A voice calls out to all…]

Barahir: “Men of Bëor, all are now called upon to cast their vote!”

[Gorlim and Ragnor are amongst the last to join in line. Clack, Clack, Clack, the votes are cast; at length Gorlim speaks in hushed tones…]

Gorlim: “How could you have been certain that the body was not me?”

[Ragnor casts his vote and turns to look at Gorlim…]

Ragnor: “Your wedding ring!”

[Gorlim looks in horror at his ringed left hand… the pebble drops!]

 

Three days later…

Northwest Dorthonion…

 

[Night: Barahir leads his laden company under the shadow of lessening foothills…]

Voice of Eilinel: “So it was that all too late my wish had come to pass and Barahir led the last of his defenders out of Dorthonion…”

[They reach the gap at Rivil’s Well…]

Voice of Eilinel: “But it was never meant to be my fate to be amongst them!”

[Some fill canteens whilst others set up camp…]

Voice of Eilinel: “Alas, for those too it was not their fate to complete this journey…”

[On a sudden they are assailed by Orcs and Wolves in great number…]

Voice of Eilinel: “For Sauron is vigilant as he is cruel and he did not wholly abandon Taur-nu-Fuin and he set watches about its many exits…”

[The company are forced to flee whither they came sustaining great loss…]

Voice of Eilinel: “And so it was that Barahir could not escape his oath, nor could the twelve that he had remaining to him!”