The Lays of Beleriand (3 page)

There Thalion Erithamrod and his thanes like gods vanished from the earth, and his valiant lady weeps yet widowed as she waits in Hithlum.

Thou lookest on the last of the lieges of Morwin and Thalion's son Turin, who to Thingol's court are wending by the word of the wife of Hurin.'

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Then Beleg bade them be blithe, and said:

'The Gods have guided you to good keeping.

I have heard of the house of Hurin the Steadfast --

and who hath not heard of the hills of slain, of Ninin Unothradin, the Unnumbered Tears?

To that war I went not, but wage a feud

with the Orcs unending, whom mine arrows bitter oft stab unseen and strike to death.

I am the huntsman Beleg of the Hidden People.'

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Then he bade them drink, and drew from his belt a flask of leather full filled with wine

that is bruised from the berries of the burning South-- 225

and the Gnome-folk know it, and the nation of the Elves, and by long ways lead it to the lands of the North.

There baked flesh and bread from his wallet

they had to their hearts' joy; but their heads were mazed by the wine of Dor-Winion that went in their veins, 230

and they soundly slept on the soft needles

of the tall pine-trees that towered above.

Later they wakened and were led by ways

devious winding through the dark wood-realm

by slade and slope and swampy thicket

through lonely days and long night-times,

and but for Beleg had been baffled utterly

by the magic mazes of Melian the Queen.

To the shadowy shores he showed the way

where stilly that stream strikes 'fore the gates of the cavernous court of the King of Doriath.

O'er the guarded bridge he gained a passage,

and thrice they thanked him, and thought in their hearts

'the Gods are good' -- had they guessed maybe what the future enfolded they had feared to live.

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To the throne of Thingol the three were come, and their speech sped them; for he spake them fair, and held in honour Hurin the steadfast,

Beren Ermabwed's brother-in-arms.

Remembering Morwin, of mortals fairest,

he turned not Turin in contempt away;

said: '0 son of Hurin, here shalt sojourn

in my cavernous court for thy kindred's sake.

Nor as slave or servant, but a second king's son thou shalt dwell in dear love, till thou deem'st it time to remember thy mother Morwin's loneliness.

Thou wisdom shalt win unwist of Men

and weapons shalt wield as the warrior Elves, and Thalion's son no thrall shall be.'

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There tarried the twain that had tended the child, till their limbs were lightened and they longed to fare through dread and danger to their dear lady.

But Gumlin was gone in greater years

than Halog, and hoped not to home again.

Then sickness took him, and he stayed by Turin, while Halog hardened his heart to go.

An Elfin escort to his aid was given

and magics of Melian, and a meed of gold.

In his mouth a message to Morwin was set,

words of the king's will, how her wish was granted; how Thingol called her to the Thousand Caves

to fare unfearing with his folk again,

there to sojourn in solace, till her son be grown; for Hurin the hero was held in mind,

and no might had Morgoth where Melian dwelt.

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Of the errand of the Elves and that other Halog the tale tells not, save in time they came

to the threshold of Morwin, and Thingol's message was said where she sate in her solitary hall.

But she dared not do as was dearly bidden,

for Nienor her nestling was not yet weaned.

More, the pride of her people, princes of Men, had suffered her send her son to Thingol

when despair sped her, but to spend her days

as alms-guest of others, even Elfin kings,

it liked her little; and there lived e'en now a hope in her heart that Hurin would come,

and the dwelling was dear where he dwelt of old.

At night she would listen for a knock at the doors, or a footstep falling that she fondly knew;

so she fared not forth, and her fate was woven.

Yet the thanes of Thingol she thanked nobly,

and her shame she showed not, how shorn of glory to reward their wending she had wealth too scant; but gave them in gift her golden things

that last lingered, and they led away

a helm of Hurin that was hewn in war

when he battled with Beren his brother-in-arms against ogres and Orcs and evil foemen;

'twas o'erwritten with runes by wrights of old.

She bade Thingol receive it and think of her.

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Thus Halog her henchman came home, but the Elves, the thanes of Thingol, thrust through the woods, and the message of Morwin in a month's journey, so quick their coming, to the king was said.

Then was Melian moved to ruth,

and courteously received the king her gift,

who deeply delved had dungeons filled

with Elfin armouries of ancient gear,

but he handled the helm as his hoard were scant; said: 'High were the head that upheld this thing with that token crowned of the towering dragon that Thalion Erithamrod thrice-renowned

oft bore into battle with baleful foes.'

Then a thought was thrust into Thingol's heart, and Turin he called and told when come

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that Morwin his mother a mighty thing

had sent to her son, his sire's heirloom,

a helm that hammers had hardened of old,

whose makers had mingled a magic therein

that its worth was a wonder and its wearer safe, guarded from glaive or gleaming axe --

'Lo! Hurin's helm hoard thou till manhood

bids thee battle; then bravely don it',

and Turin touched it, but took it not,

too weak to wield that weight as yet,

and his mind mourned for Morwin's answer,

and the first of his sorrows o'erfilled his soul.

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Thus came it to pass in the court of Thingol

that Turin tarried for twelve long years

with Gumlin his guardian, who guided him thither when but seven summers their sorrows had laid on the son of Thalion. For the seven first

his lot was lightened, since he learnt at whiles from faring folk what befell in Hithlum,

and tidings were told by trusty Elves,

how Morwin his mother was more at ease;

and they named Nienor that now was growing

to the sweet beauty of a slender maiden.

Thus his heart knew hope, and his hap was fairer.

There he waxed wonderly and won him praise

in all lands where Thingol as lord was held

for the strength of his body and stoutness of heart.

Much lore he learned, and loved wisdom,

but fortune followed him in few desires;

oft wrong and awry what he wrought turned;

what he loved he lost, what he longed for he won not; and full friendship he found not easily,

nor was lightly loved for his looks were sad.

He was gloomy-hearted, and glad seldom,

for the sundering sorrow that seared his youth.

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On manhood's threshold he was mighty holden

in the wielding of weapons; and in weaving song he had a minstrel's mastery, but mirth was not in it, for he mourned the misery of the Men of Hithlum.

Yet greater his grief grew thereafter,

when from Hithlum's hills he heard no more,

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Two pages from the original manuscript of The Lay of the Children of Hurin.) and no traveller told him tidings of Morwin.

For those days were drawing to the Doom of the Gnomes, and the power of the Prince of the People of Hell, 360

of the grim Glamhoth, was grown apace,

till the lands of the North were loud with their noise, and they fell on the folk with flame and ruin who bent not to Bauglir, or the borders passed of dark Dorlomin with its dreary pines

that Hithlum unhappy is hight by Men.

There Morgoth shut them, and the Shadowy Mountains fenced them from Faerie and the folk of the wood.

Even Beleg fared not so far abroad

as once was his wont, and the woods were filled with the armies of Angband and evil deeds,

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while murder walked on the marches of Doriath; only mighty magic of Melian the Queen

yet held their havoc from the Hidden People.

To assuage his sorrow and to sate the rage

and hate of his heart for the hurts of his folk then Hurin's son took the helm of his sire

and weapons weighty for the wielding of men,

and went to the woods with warlike Elves;

and far in the fight his feet led him,

into black battle yet a boy in years.

Ere manhood's measure he met and slew

the Orcs of Angband and evil things

that roamed and ravened on the realm's borders.

There hard his life, and hurts he got him,

the wounds of shaft and warfain sword,

and his prowess was proven and his praise renowned, and beyond his years he was yielded honour;

for by him was holden the hand of ruin

from Thingol's folk, and Thu feared him --

Thu who was throned as thane most mighty

neath Morgoth Bauglir; whom that mighty one bade

'Go ravage the realm of the robber Thingol,

and mar the magic of Melian the Queen.'

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Only one was there in war greater,

higher in honour in the hearts of the Elves,

than Turin son of Hurin untamed in war --

even the huntsman Beleg of the Hidden People, 395

the son of the wilderness who wist no sire

(to bend whose bow of the black yew-tree

had none the might), unmatched in knowledge

of the wood's secrets and the weary hills.

He was leader beloved of the light-armed bands, the scouts that scoured, scorning danger,

afar o'er the fells their foemen's lairs;

and tales and tidings timely won them

of camps and councils, of comings and goings --

all the movements of the might of Morgoth the Terrible.

Thus Turin, who trusted to targe and sword,

who was fain of fighting with foes well seen, and the banded troops of his brave comrades

were snared seldom and smote unlooked-for.

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Then the fame of the fights on the far marches were carried to the court of the King of Doriath, and tales of Turin were told in his halls,

and how Beleg the ageless was brother-in-arms to the black-haired boy from the beaten people.

Then the king called them to come before him

ever and anon when the Orc-raids waned;

to rest them and revel, and to raise awhile

the secret songs of the sons of Ing.

On a time was Turin at the table of Thingol --

there was laughter long and the loud clamour

of a countless company that quaffed the mead, amid the wine of Dor-Winion that went ungrudged in their golden goblets; and goodly meats

there burdened the boards, neath the blazing torches set high in.those halls that were hewn of stone.

There mirth fell on many; . there minstrels clear did sing to them songs of the city of Tun

neath Tain-Gwethil, towering mountain,

where the great gods sit and gaze on the world from the guarded shores of the gulf of Faerie.

Then one sang of the slaying at the Swanships' Haven and the curse that had come on the kindreds since: all silent sat and soundless harkened,

and waited the words save one alone --

the Man among Elves that Morwin bore.

Unheeding he heard or high feasting

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or lay or laughter, and looked, it seemed,

to a deep distance in the dark without,

and strained for sounds in the still spaces,

for voices that vanished in the veils of night.

He was lithe and lean, and his locks were wild, and woodland weeds he wore of brown

and grey and green, and gay jewel

or golden trinket his garb knew not.

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An Elf there was -- Orgof -- of the ancient race that was lost in the lands where the long marches from the quiet waters of Cuivienen

were made in the mirk of the midworld's gloom, ere light was lifted aloft o'er earth;

but blood of the Gnomes was blent in his veins.

He was close akin to the King of Doriath --

a hardy hunter and his heart was brave,

but loose his laughter and light his tongue,

and his pride outran his prowess in arms.

He was fain before all of fine raiment

and of gems and jewels, and jealous of such

as found favour before himself.

Now costly clad in colours gleaming

he sat on a seat that was set on high

near the king and queen and close to Turin.

When those twain were at table he had taunted him oft, lightly with laughter, for his loveless ways, his haggard raiment and hair unshorn;

but Turin untroubled neither turned his head

nor wasted words on the wit of Orgof.

But this day of the feast more deep his gloom than of wont, and his words men won harder;

for of twelve long years the tale was full

since on Morwin his mother through a maze of tears he looked the last, and the long shadows

of the forest had fallen on his fading home;

and he answered few, and Orgof nought.

Then the fool's mirth was filled the more,

to a keener edge was his carping whetted

at the clothes uncouth and the uncombed hair

of Turin newcome from the tangled forest.