Chapter 21: Dagor Aglareb

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To the north, the Hunters could see the eruption of fire and flame above the Iron Mountains, heralding the attack of the Dark Lord's armies.  Time was of the essence, taking only a day for Morgoth's rabble to march to the borders of Angrod and Aegnor's realm of Dorthonion.  Trading worried looks, and without a single word, the Hunters quickly broke their meager camp, saddled their horses, and made ready to ride toward the battle.  But they stopped short when, from the south, came the sound of galloping hooves.

"Surely you do not intend to ride to war without me!"  The Hunter's turned to see e'Narmire riding hard towards their camp.  A feeling of great comfort came over them, for they knew with Shadow-bane at their side, all would be well. 

"It is good to see you, Uncle," hailed Edhelos.  "What news from Doriath?"

Shadow-bane pulled back on his reins and sat heavily in the saddle, bringing his mount to a skidding halt.  "All is well, Nephew."  He loosened his grip on the reins, and sat patiently as his horse angrily stomped the ground.  "By now, Thingol is readying his armies to counter any threat to Doriath.  But he stubbornly will not march to the aid of any of the Noldor princes."

"Hoping Morgoth will do the job for him, no doubt," grumbled Curcam.

Shadow-bane did not respond to the Naugrim's sneer.  "I saw Maedhros begin to march his main army north.  His advance guard is riding hard in this direction and should be here any minute."  He paused and looked toward Thangorodrim.  "Any idea of where the attack is focused?"

"It looks to be directed at Dorthonion," responded Taurensil, "but several smaller columns have broken off and appear to be marching to the east."

"Most likely trying to circle around and attack from behind," guessed e'Narmire.  "Maedhros is surely unaware of this."

"Not to worry, Master Hunter," said Curucam confidently.  "Should that rabble pass within a hundred leagues of the mountains, my people shall prepare a proper greeting."

"Let us hope so," e'Narmire said solemnly.  "Whether he likes it or not, Maedhros must rely on the courage and axes of the Naugrim to save his flank."

"Baruk Khazad," grinned Curucam.

The sound of more hoof beats came clamoring up the hillside.  The advance guard of the army came to a thundering halt next to the Hunters' horses.  Without dismounting, the captain of the guard called out.  "Lord Maedhros bid that you join him."

"What are your orders, Captain?" asked Edhelos.  It was obvious that he had no intention of waiting to join the battle, looking for any opportunity to do so as quickly as possible.

"He has commanded me to attack straight away," replied the Captain. "I am to relieve as much pressure as possible on his kinsman and harass the Enemy's flank until my lord arrives with the main body."

Snow-borne looked around at his comrades, a wry smile across his face.  "Sounds as good a place as any."  None of the Hunters spoke, they simply gathered their reins and mounted up.  "Lead on, Captain," beckoned Edhelos.

It turned into a long, grueling ride.  What would normally be a two-day journey was done in little more than a day.  With horses lathered and blown, they would be useless in a mounted charge, so Captain decided to fight on foot, hitting the Enemy's flank and fading away before they could be surrounded.  It proved to be an excellent strategy.

For two days, Morgoth's host threw itself against the forested mountain defenses of Dorthonion.  Aegnor and Angrod bore the brunt of the assault, but the Hunters, fighting alongside the Captain and his guard, kept the Enemy off-balance with hit-and-run attacks against the flanks.  But the orcs gave as good as they got, slaying over half of the Captain's guard before Maedhros arrived with the main body of his army. With his army now massed on the Enemy's flank, Maedhros gave the order for an all-out attack.  Across the battlefield, the Hunters could see the flags and standards of Fingolfin's host to the west, catching the enemy host in a deadly vice. 

Noldor archers loosed their arrows into the massed ranks of the orc horde while the blades of their infantry cut great holes in the flanks.  The carnage and blood-letting was enough to test the endurance of even the most hardened warrior.  The plains of Ard-galen were piled with the corpses of both orc and elf, of friend and foe.

But the pressure proved to be too great for the orc horde, and they soon began to withdraw toward Angband in a panicked retreat.  But the Noldor princes did not let up.  Not wanting to give the Enemy a chance to regroup and counter-attack, the Eldar pursued them to the very gates of the Enemy's stronghold, cut off their retreat, and destroyed them completely, not leaving even one of the foul creatures alive. 

Their victory was total.

As word spread of the great victory, many tales of courage and sacrifice were told and retold.  The names of heroes were committed to memory as their exploits soon became the stuff of legend.  Among those many heroes were the names of the Hunters.

Tales were told of the troll slain by Snow-borne's bow, and of how his blade cut down several orc chieftains, sending a shock of fear into the dark hearts of their kinsmen.  It was also told of how he led a handful of warriors on a sortie to rescue a captured banner of Fingolfin's host, rallying the nearly broken company to be the first to cut-off the enemy's retreat.

Minstrels recounted the exploits of a warrior-maiden whose voice and words of encouragement were as beautiful and eloquent as her blade was vicious.  Those around Shaelina were stirred by her courage and example as the enemy ranks reeled from the bite of her steel.

Taurensil too found glory. Surrounded by more than a dozen of the Enemy's servants, the ranger cut his way out of the trap, slaying all who dared to oppose his swift blade, including a giant of an orc wielding a great axe that had already claimed the lives of many Eldar.

Many veterans of the battle also told of a Naugrim with deep-throated voice hurling insults as he went about his deadly work with grim efficiency, cutting down scores of the enemy with battle-ax and mattock.  Hacking his way through the orc mob, Curucam was one of the first to make contact with Fingolfin's host attacking from the west.

Kemeran was honored in song and tale as well.  He had harassed the flanks of the retreating orcs.  Personally killing two of the orcs' champions in single combat, his attacks sewed panic and confusion. Slowing the orcs' retreat by forcing them to stop and fight, he bought Edhelos time to lead his rallied company into the crucial blocking position.

Shadow-bane was, as always, near the fiercest of the fighting.  Offering encouragement and leading by personal example, he led countless assaults into the heart of the enemy. He directed the fire of Maedhros' archers, keeping the enemy off-balance, inflicting great carnage and keeping their huge numbers at bay while their formations were ripped apart piecemeal.

But among all the celebrations, there were also lamentations.  The "glorious battle" had also exacted a great toll.  Many would not return to their homes or families, and these heroes were honored above all else.  And the Hunters were not immune to the heartbreak. 

Word soon came about the battles near the Blue Mountains.  The Naugrim had also won a great victory, destroying the force that had been trying to outflank Maedhros.  They had held, protecting the eastern passes, but among their dead was Curucam's father.  He had fallen while commanding the center of the Dwarven battle-line.  No less than thirty of the enemy had become victims to his axe before he had fallen, but that served to only slightly ease the pain of Curucam's loss.  The day after receiving the news, Curucam left for home and to assume his father's responsibilities as a gate-warden of Belegost.

The celebrations were also tempered by the knowledge that the Eldar had almost been taken by complete surprise.  The Noldor princes vowed that this should never happen again and set about reinforcing their northern frontiers.  They would not be taken unawares again.

Such was the beginning of the Siege of Angband.