Chapter 22: Into the East

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In the years that followed the Glorious Battle, war did not entirely cease.  Though the Dark Lord's orc army was destroyed at the gates of Angband, there were still many small bands of the vile creatures roaming about Beleriand.  Some had managed to escape the great slaughter of Ard-galen.  Others had been part of the various flanking forces, having survived the onslaught of the Dwarves in the east and of the Elves of Finrod and Cirdan in the west. 

This was not conventional warfare, of battle-lines and flanking maneuvers, but a war of ambush, raiding, and hit-and-run attacks.  No large battalions fought this war, but rather small groups of ten or twenty warriors.  It was a personal kind of battle, focused on revenge and ruthless slaughter. 
Into this maelstrom, the Hunters answered the call of Eldar princes.  Taurensil and Shaelina, always longing for the sea, returned to the service of Cirdan.  Edhelos and Kemeran journeyed into the north, wielding their blades all along the frontier.  Curucam, too, served the Eldar kings.  Though he had no love for the Sons of Feanor, as a Gate-warden, he was responsible for the defense of his homeland.  As such, he fought many skirmishes alongside the armies of the Feanorans, for the enemy of the Enemy was his ally, no matter how sour the taste.  For ten years, the hunt lasted before the remnants of Morgoth's host were finally laid low.

As the orc raiding parties were hunted down and destroyed, the threat subsided and each of the Hunters were allowed to live in peace.  For nearly a century, they lived their lives a normally as possible, Morgoth becoming nearly a faint and distant nightmare of an age long past.  Morgoth had been driven into his mountain fortress and his armies all but destroyed.  A new leaguer had been set to guard against another surprise attack.  Spring came to Beleriand and the land was being reborn.

But there were those who could not forget the horrors of Morgoth.  Those that knew that a terrible price must yet be paid before his stain could be removed from the world.  Shadow-bane knew what was to come it he did not act soon.

He did not fully commit his blade to the hunt.  Though he fought, it was not to eradicate what was left of Morgoth's host, for he had a deeper purpose.  He had known from the beginning, since Feanor first stirred the Noldor, that doom awaited.  He could sense this doom approaching with every year that passed.  He was driven to find Telemire before it was too late, for he would play a part in the impending destruction.  It was this foreboding that drove e'Narmire to disappear. 

No one saw or heard from him for the last half-century.  Many thought he had simply been killed in any one of a thousand skirmishes.  As he was not a Noldor, and therefore not subject to their sins, many believed he had simply returned to Valinor.


It was as if a dream had suddenly come to an abrupt end.  In the most joyful time of their lives, each of the Hunters was visited by royal messenger.  They were to come to Belegost.  Shadow-bane called.

In the one hundredth spring since the Glorious Battle, the Hunters found themselves the guests of an old comrade.  Curucam proved to be a most grateful host, providing a most lavish banquet in honor of his friends.  The Hunters spent several days reminiscing about their past adventures and enjoying the camaraderie of their friendships.  But e'Narmire would not let his comrades relish their time together for very long. 

Having made his final preparations, it was time to leave.  But none of the Hunters, save Curucam, knew the destination.  They would not be encouraged once they did learn of their task.

"What you propose is suicide, Lord Shadow-bane," protested Taurensil.  "No one, no matter his ability with a blade, would stand a chance against such odds."

"The ranger is right, Master."  Shaelina, usually reserved, was adamant against such a course of action.  "We cannot expect to survive such a journey.  We would all be lost.  And for what purpose?"

"To rescue my father."  Kemeran spoke in a soft voice, but his words were screaming in everyone's ears.  "You would expect any of us to do the same for you."

Debate stopped for a moment.  All those gathered contemplated Kemeran's words.  He was right, and they all knew it.

Taurensil broke the silence.  "You know, Master Hunter, that I would do anything to save your father.  He has fought by my side in many battles and I would sell my life dearly so that he may live."  He paused to collect his thoughts, for he did not wish to seem a coward, but a seasoned warrior.  "There is no reasonable guarantee that by trading my life for his that he will make it out alive.  Even if we were to make our way in, even if we were to find him in that labyrinth, even if we were to free him, we will not make it out of Angband alive!  He will still die and that serves no one."

"You have been to Angband before," stated Edelhos flatly.  "You went in, and all of you made it out.  Why do you say we cannot do it again?"

"That was different, Master Snow-born," argued Taurensil.  "We had the element of surprise and we will not have that again.  We only went as far as Thangorodrim, not into the wilderness beyond.  And, finally, we knew that Maedhros was still alive.  We have no such guarantee this time."

Taurensil's argument would have been convincing had it not been for the blade Curucam dropped on the table.  "Here is your proof, Master Elf.  Look at it closely."

Orc-bane picked up the sword and looked at it carefully.  It was definitely an orc's weapon, but its craftsmanship was more refined, as if it had been made by someone other than an orc smith.  Morgoth was known to keep captive Eldar as slaves and it was entirely possible that such a slave made this weapon, but there was no way to tell the name of the maker.

"Look on the grip, under the leather," instructed Curucam. 
Taurensil obeyed, and to his shock, he saw the mark of the maker engraved just below the guard.  "Telemire is alive," he said under his breath.


Once all had agreed to go, e'Narmire laid out his plan.  They would not head north straight into Angband, but circumvent it by going east.  They would follow the Dwarf Road through the Ered Luin, then turn north. 

"Morgoth has been sending his orcs into the east," explained Curucam.  "They have been moving south and using the several mountain passes to cross back into Beleriand.  That was how they were able to make the hunting last as long as it did.  It was only recently that Dwarves from Belegost and Nogrod have been able to close those passes."

"More importantly," interrupted e'Narmire, "is what Curucam's kin have found."

"Slaves," said Curucam flatly.  "Since the Enemy's defeat in the Glorious Battle, he has not been able to keep as firm control on his realm.  Thousands of slaves have escaped into the east and the Enemy has sent what warriors he can spare to capture and return them."

"We are going to allow ourselves to be captured," laughed Edelhos nervously as the plan dawned on him.  "We are going to willingly become Morgoth's slaves."

"Yes we are," responded e'Narmire.