Chapter 20: First Rising of the Son

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Kemeran pulled his cloak around him.  There was a brisk chill in the air, and their small fire was not very hot.  He and Edhelos had deliberately kept the flame low so that they would not be spotted by enemy scavengers.  They had chosen a small knoll near the center of the Ard-galen to make their camp.  From here, the two Noldor could keep a watch on the northern approaches to Dorthonion and Tol Sirion, their home.  Although the Enemy had not launched a major attack since Dagor-nuin-Giliath, raiding parties still struck out from Angband.  And recently, the raiding activity had increased.

He smiled to himself as he looked up to where Edhelos kept watch, remembering how fate had brought them together.  Kemeran was a few years older than his companion. Born in the Undying Lands, he made the crossing of the Helcaraxe as a young adult, barely out of his teens.  He and his mother had followed his father after he had been stirred to action by the words of Feanor.  That is, until his father abandoned them to their fate on the Grinding Ice.

In that terrible ordeal, Kemeran had lost his mother, and with her went any reason to survive.  Or so he thought.  It was then, in his deepest despair, that Kemeran found a reason to live in his father's former mentor.  e'Narmire had picked him up and pushed him to carry on, not with words and speeches, but with another's life—Edhelos.

His charge had the unique misfortune of being born neither in Valinor nor Beleriand, but on the Ice.  He was only a few weeks old when he, too, was orphaned, losing his parents to deeps beneath the Ice.  The Vanya had saved the child from the same fate, entrusting him to Kemeran.

Over time, the two Noldor became as brothers, almost inseparable.  As they grew into adulthood, their education was entrusted to the House of Fingolfin, eventually serving the High King as rangers and scouts when they became of age.  During this time, they were not abandoned by their savior.  Despite long absences, e'Narmire looked in on them when he could, often spending months at a time with them.  It was he who brought news to Kemeran that his father had been taken by a shadow-demon and of the failed attempt to rescue him.  It was then that Shadow-bane vowed to return Telemire to his family, no matter the cost.

Kemeran smiled to himself again as he pulled his cloak tighter.  Though immune to the cold, he still held vivid memories of the Helcaraxe and simply did not like it.  Edhelos the Snow-borne, however, reveled in it.  Dreading the summers, he almost became another person in the winter months.  Silly child, Kemeran thought.

"What do you see, Edhelos?"

"Nothing much," he replied.  "There are a few more orc patrols to the northwest, probably making their way toward the Feanorans."

Kemeran sighed, "They are none of our concern.  Uncle told us to wait here for the others, and that you . . . " he scolded as he pointed an accusatory finger toward his brother, ". . . were not to go orc hunting."

Voranda, too, huffed agreement to his master's warning.  A gift from the High King, Voranda was descended from the hounds he had bred in Valinor and accompanied him across the Ice.  The light of the Undying Lands still burning within him, Voranda was also gifted with immortal life.  He had been at Kemeran's side for nearly half a century, and was almost as much a trusted companion and loyal friend as Edhelos had always been.

"It does not matter," responded Edhelos.  "They are moving toward Maedhros' lands. 

We will be dealing with them soon enough.  I would just as gladly do battle with a few more blades on my side."  Despite his youthful exuberance, Edhelos always showed restraint and wise judgment in most matters, a fact that nearly always surprised elders, but one that Kemeran had become accustomed.  They made a great team, Kemeran the tracker, and Edhelos the warrior.

"I think we shall have those blades of yours soon enough," whispered Kemeran. 

Edhelos followed his brother's gaze.  To the southwest, he could see his uncle's companions.  He could see the Hunters approaching.  "Let's go."

Taurensil had been watching a small fire on a nearby hill when it suddenly went out.  He tapped Curucam on the shoulder and pointed.  "Look," he warned.

"Orcs?" offered the dwarf.

"Not likely.  They usually do not build camp fires for fear of giving themselves away," Taurensil thought aloud.  "May be one of Finrod's patrols."

"Possibly," responded Curucam.  "Could also be a trap."

"If so, the orcs are becoming more cunning," offered Shaelina.

Taurensil thought for a moment, weighing his options.  "We should make certain," he decided.  "Carefully."

The Hunters cautiously made their way toward the now extinguished fire.  Taurensil and Shaelina could sense a presence, but it was not a sense of foreboding or of fear. 

Curucam, too, also knew someone was out there.  And they were near.  His mood lightened, however, once he caught the faintest of smells—lavender, rosemary, and wet dog.  He stood, revealing himself to the intruders.

"Rest easy, Ranger," he said to Taurensil.  "They are not foe, but Eldar."

Edhelos and Kemeran approached the Hunters, ill at ease.  They had known they were being stalked for some time, but without knowing why.  More discomforting was the fact that they knew there where three Hunters, but they could only vaguely locate two of them.  They had not known Taurensil's location until the dwarf had called out to him.

"Why do you hunt us?" demanded Edhelos.  "Did we provide adequate entertainment?"

"Steady yourself, Master Elf," Curucam said quietly.  "You were not for amusement.  There was no way of knowing for sure who you were.  Considering what happened to us in Tol Sirion, we were just being cautious."

"We were sent to guide you, not harm you," said Kemeran.  "We are to take you to Himring."

"Sent by whom?" asked Taurensil.

"By e'Narmire," Shaelina said suddenly.  "Look at his ring."  The minstrel motioned to Kemeran's hand.  "That is Telemire's ring.  Shadow-bane found it.  After the battle in the cave."  Shaelina looked into the young Noldor's eyes.  "You are Kemeran, son of Telemire," she half asked, half stated.  She shifted her gaze to Edhelos.  "And you must be Snow-born."

"Why would he not tell us about this?" wondered Taurensil aloud.

"It was a test," replied Shaelina.

"Test!" scoffed Curucam.  "Have we not been tested enough?  Have we not proven ourselves often enough."

"Not a test for us," smiled Shaelina, "but for them."

Taurensil shook his head is disbelief.  "In that case," he chuckled, "you still have much to learn."

In the days that followed, the small company passed through the northern and western regions of Dorthonion.  They skirted major settlements, wanting to avoid any patrols, orc as well as elf.  With tensions between Noldor and Sindar, it was best to avoid any possible confrontations.

Much of the journey was uneventful, but as they neared the Pass of Aglon, they began to notice the number of orc patrols increasing, none larger than a dozen individuals.  Such small groups had a better chance of running the gauntlet of Eldar tasked with keeping watch on the passes.  All of the signs pointed to an attack.  The Enemy was marshalling his forces.  And the orc rabble was getting better at evading detection.

The company searched for a narrow crossing point along the pass, always wary of passing orc raiding parties.  When a crossing point was found, it was occupied by a small party of the vile creatures.  Most of the raiders moved at night and hid during the day because of the pain the sun caused them.  Needing to make Himring with haste, and given no alternative, the company decided to deal with the raiding party—quickly, quietly, and violently.

And they did just that.  Curucam, on Taurensil's signal, rushed the gathered orcs, aiming for two standing near each other in the center.  Taken by surprise, the first never saw the dwarf's axe take its head off in a single sweep.  The remaining orcs, not entirely comprehending what was happening, stood, and for a brief second, stared at the crazed Naugrim.  But that is all they had time to do.  By standing, they had exposed their positions and were felled quickly by a volley of arrows from the hidden elves.  Only one survived the volley, and to his misfortune, he had been singled out by Curucam.  His death also came quickly as the dwarf buried his axe in the orc's chest.

Now safely across the pass, the company pressed on toward Himring.  Only a day's hard march away, they quickened their pace.  Before long, the fortress appeared in the distance, perched atop a flat hill, overlooking the valley below.  Gathered around the fortress's walls and along the hillside, the company could see an army gathering.  The banners flown overhead told the company who commanded this army.  The Sons of Feanor had gathered their strength and were preparing for war.

But against whom?  Had Maedhros read the signs and was preparing to receive the Enemy's attack from the north?  Or was he preparing to defend himself from an attack from the south, an attack from Doriath?

"It is not going to be easy getting through that," said Kemeran flatly.

"Easier than you think," retorted Taurensil. 

"You jest," Edhelos laughed.  "Are just going to walk right up the sentry and ask to see Maedhros?"

"That is exactly what we are going to do."  Shaelina's smile was met with looks of astonishment on the faces of the Eldar youths.

"Have faith, lads," Curucam said with utmost confidence.  "We have already made the acquaintance of Lord Maedhros.  More importantly, he knows who we are."

Several minutes later, much to the amazement of Edhelos and Kemeran, the company was met by the army's sentries and taken directly to Maedhros and his brothers.

Caranthir was the first of the brothers to notice their presence.  "Ah," he said smugly, "sure the Cave Dweller has not offered us his surrender so soon before battle has been joined?"  This drew a reserved chuckle from all of the brothers, except Maedhros, who hushed them with a scowl.

Instinctively, the eldest of Feanor's sons crossed his right arm under his left, so as to hide his gruesome reminder of Morgoth's malice.  He alone knew there could only be one reason for the presence of the Hunters in his court.  "What council do you bring from Lord e'Narmire?"

Taurensil steps forward, purposely not bowing to the Noldo king.  "Lord e'Narmire bids that you do not march against Doriath else you invite your own destruction at the hands of your kinsman."

"Who?" asked Caranthir sarcastically.  "High King Fingolfin?  What army does he command?  You know, as well as any standing here, that he is not the rightful king.  He has no legitimate authority."

"He is the rightful heir," replied Taurensil calmly, "ever since Maedhros rejected his birthright in atonement for his sins."

"Do not speak of a sin," sneered Curufin, "about which you know nothing."

"It would be a mistake," Shaelina said softly, "to underestimate our knowledge of how you came to set foot upon our shores."

Maedhros knew it would be pointless in playing at this game any longer, "Not all of Fingolfin's host are innocent of the very sin you mention.  They are as guilty as we and cannot claim any sort of righteousness.  What threat are they to us?"

"They have already paid for that sin."  Edhelos stepped forward to challenge the Sons of Feanor.  "You abandoned them to the Grinding Ice to meet a gruesome fate.  And I was born and orphaned on that Ice, punished for a crime that I did not commit and had no part."

His brothers silenced, Maedhros retreated from the point and offered another argument.  "I have no quarrel with King Thingol, save his quarrel with me.  I have not asked for war, but in his rage, he is pushing me toward bloodshed.  Have I not the right to defend my lands, my home, and my family?"

"Thingol will not attack," said Taurensil flatly.

"How can you be so sure?" asked Maglor, second eldest of Feanor's sons.  "He has never welcomed us openly from the beginning.  Now, he seems to have a convenient excuse to rid himself of us, once and for all."

It is amazing how these princes continue to deny their part in this crisis, thought Taurensil, but he kept his thoughts, and tongue, in check.  "Thingol is a wise king.  Wise enough to realize that he spoke in anger, and wise enough to heed the council of e'Narmire."  He paused, swallowed his pride, and tended to wounded egos.  "I only hope that such great princes of the Noldor will also yield to the same wisdom."

Maedhros finally surrendered.  "What council does Lord e'Narmire offer?"

Taurensil, relief obvious in his voice, answered.  "Turn your army around.  Do not attack Doriath.  Instead, focus your efforts to the north, for Morgoth may be stirring."

"What proof . . . ?" began Caranthir hotly, but was stopped by the raised right arm of Maedhros.

Kemeran now lent his voice to the debate.  "The orcs have been infiltrating to the south in great numbers.  Surely your own patrols have encountered them."

"They have," acknowledged Maedhros.

Kemeran continued, "They have been travelling in small numbers, no more than a dozen in any one party, but there have been a massive number of these raiding parties funneling through several passes along Ard-galen.  There is no way that all of them can be intercepted."

"These are not just merely raiding parties," interjected Edhelos.  "They are meant harass your army from behind and draw your attention away from the main attack."

"Which is to be where?" asked Maglor.

"There is no way to tell," answered Kemeran bluntly.  "Raiding parties have been intercepted across Ard-galen.  With all of the increased orc raids and the reawakening of Thangorodrim's peaks, all that we do know is that Morgoth intends to attack soon."

Maedhros slumped, deep in thought.  "If what you say is true, I can ill afford to fight both Doriath and Angband, and that smacks of Morgoth's doing."  He paused for a moment.  "I will recall what forces I have to the south, keeping only a small guard along the border to keep watch on Thingol.  I will gather my army around Himring and prepare to march north.  But if what you say proves to be false, and Thingol does want war, I cannot waste time marching back to the south, so I will split the difference."

"That is all that we ask," said Shaelina humbly.

"I will remind you, however," continued Maedhros, "that should your information prove to be a ruse, I will have you executed."  The king stepped toward the Hunters and spoke softly, so as not to let anyone else hear.  "But out of gratitude for your previous heroism, I will give you two days head start.  I need someone to watch the northern entrance to Aglon and send word if Morgoth does indeed attack."
"It would be our honor, Great Prince," said Edhelos humbly.

The Hunters departed and made their way to the pass's entrance.  For nearly a week, they watched and waited.  No army from the north, no executioner from the south.

Then, Thangorodrim erupted.