Tharbad in the Time of Arador
Hildigrim
The ruins of Tharbad lay covered in thick fog. The previous day had been crisp and clear, but in the middle of one night, the crumbling walls had vanished under a gray blanket. The river could only be heard, not seen, at the bottom of the slope. The doors and window of the inn were closed, and the travlers and locals were awaiting the meal of the day.
I had been in Tharbad for months, and even though it was a small and closed comminity, no one was any more suspicious of me than they were of each other. I had been give the job of night watch in exchange for a room next to the stable. The fact that the innkeeper had offered the job to a newcomer was understandable given the choice of men in Tharbad - I was not a known thief.
I performed my nightly duties to the satisfaction of the innkeeper, but not so well as to arouse his suspicion. He paid little attention to me, but he closely inspected every traveler who entered the inn. He was so obviously a Ranger, I had assumed that it was general knowledge, but if anyone else knew they made no mention of it, and the travelers were usually willing to share their tales of the road with him.
I had not originally intended to stay in Tharbad. I was on my way from Lond Daer on the southern coast to Dale in the frozen north, where it was rumored that a Dragon had been seen. Summer was over and soon the High Pass would be closed by snow.
The Gray Swan is the only inn between Sarn Ford and Isengard. There are few travelers on the Old North Road, but all of them stop there for food and rest. Once a fine building of Tharbad, it was built on a hill overlooking the road and the bridge of Tharbad. This high location had allowed it to survived the floods of III 2912 and it had become one of the few structures left standing amid the ruins. It was spacious, with 30 rooms of various sizes and a large and comfortable common room. The walls were stone, and it was covered with a tile roof.
I had stopped at the Inn for rumors of the road ahead, but I had quickly fled into the dusk. Gandalf the Gray was sitting in one corner talking with the "innkeeper." Fortunately, they were intent on their conversation, and did not notice me turn back into the dusk.
The Istari had exposed me to Men before, so I avoided him if possible. But, Gandalf was also an excellent indication that something is about to happen. Intrigued by his presence, I watched the inn from a distance, and before dawn, Gandalf left hurriedly on the North Road. I remained hidden for the rest of the day, watching the inn and the ford of the Grayflood.
Satisfied that I had given Gandalf a comfortable lead, I was preparing to follow him northward when I noticed three men at the rivers edge. I had not seen them ford the river, so I watched them with interest as one of them moved cautiously toward the inn. He entered, but soon returned to join his companions. While they were talking, the innkeeper crept to the stable, which overlooks the river, and watched the three men. When they started toward the inn, the innkeeper quietly slipped back to the inn.
As they approached the inn, I noticed they were dressed as Dunlanders, and that they were wearing armor. Weapons were to be expected, but Dulanders didn't usually sport such fine ones, and Dunlanders are seldom seen so far north. They do not tolerate anyone "trespassing," through Dunland, and they very seldom leave their pitiful squalor. A short visit even to Tharbad was unusual. I was intrigued.
I continued to watch the inn through the night, anticipating an attempted robbery. If those three travelers attacked a ranger on his own turf, I expected a brief and bloody battle. But, instead they departed quietly in the morning, and the left toward the east - toward the Mountains. The puzzle had grown too interesting to leave behind unsolved, so I abandoned my plans for Dale and Gandalf, and walked back into the Inn.
East of Tharbad lay the Swanfleet Marsh (Nin-in-Eliph), and beyond it the ruins of Ost-in-Edhil and the remains of smaller towns of Eregion. Ost-in-Edhil had been the greatest city of the Noldor during the Second Age. It was founded by Galadriel and Celeborn in II 750, and destroyed by Sauron in II 1697.
Tharbad was founded by the Númenórian King Tar-Aldarion (II 900) at the limit of navigation of the Gwathló. Although it was destroyed by Sauron in II 1697, it was quickly rebuilt after the Númenórian victory. Tharbad prospered as a seaport until the end of the Second age II 3310 when it was abandoned by Ar-Pharazôn in preparation for the conquest of Valinor. It's harbor lay in ruin until early in the Third Age (II 435), when the Great Bridge across the Gwathló was built by King Arantar. Thereafter, it was the main link of Arnor to Gondor, both by Sea and by the North-South Road.
Tharbad was built by Tar-Aldarion on low hills at the western edge of Nin-in-Eliph. There, the many streams of the vast marsh gathered into a great river that could be navigated by the Númenórian ships. The town grew mainly on the north bank of the river, but the Númenórians also fortified the east bank. The marshes of the south bank were sparsely settled, particularly eastward to the mouths of the Glanduin. The causeway that was built across the marshes south of the bridge allowed several new villages to spring up.
Following the division of Arnor (II 861) the Men of Cardolan built a new road from the bridge to the ruins of Ost-in-Edhil, and repaired the Elven road from the ruined city eastward to Moria in the Misty Mountains. Commerce was for a while renewed, and the Dúnedain had dealings with the Dwarves until Moria was abandoned in III 1981.
Tharbad recovered its prosperity after the fall of Cardolan (III 1420), but the great floods of III 2912 destroyed the ancient city. The great bridge was thrown down, and the fields were scoured away or burried in sand. Thereafter, the only inhabited remnant of the grand city was the Gray Swan Inn.
I had passed along the Road from Ost-in-Edhil to Moria several times during the reign of Celebrimbor, and I had spent several lifetimes in Tharbad during the glory of Cardolan. After the fall of the Dúnedain, I had passed through the ruins of Tharbad many times, traveling along the great North-South Road. So I was able to present myself to the "innkeeper" as a long-lost son of the area. I didn't risk mentioning the three Dunlanders to him, anticipating that I would soon hear all there was to know about them from "Ilene."
The presence of a woman at so remote and dangerous place as the Gray Swan Inn was unusual for that time. But, Ilene was big enough to protect herself and old enough to avoid most trouble. She was also a typical Tharbadling, and spent her waking hours in the common room of the inn. In exchange for preparing one meal a day, the innkeeper, Erahad, had given her a room and the right to sample all of her own cooking.
Ilene talked with any visitor who cared to listen, and some who didn't. In less than an hour after I met her, I learned enough to confirm that I should remain in Tharbad. The Dunlanders had been interested in the Marsh and the Elven ruins, and in the ancient road to the Dwarf Kingdom. They appeared to know the names of the places of the region, even though they had never been here. It was very strange for Dunlanders to have any knowledge of a foreign place, and and Ilene confirmed that their speach was not Dunlandish.
I dropped the subject altogether, but predictably, Ilene repeated the entire story after I had been hired as "night watch." She added that she had noticed the weapons the men carried. The sword of one had a large dark gem at the end of the hilt, and worked upon it in gold was a symbol.
Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of travlers, and it was some time before I learned more about the Dunlanders. I was spending so much time with Ilene that some of the inn "regulars" began making jokes about us. When Ilene herd one such jest she glanced at me, with a quizzical look that quickly faded. In the millennia that I have lived among men, not once has a woman mistaken me for a potential mate. To both sexes, I appear as an uninteresting Man, but Women instinctively sense that I am not a mate, or that in some obscure way I do not meet the needs of their being.
Men have no such intuition, so their baseless jealousy of me sometimes hastens my departure. But in Tharbad, no one was jealous of Ilene, so my informative relationship with her was secure. Before long, my patience was rewarded, and she again mentioned the weapon of the "Dunlanders." and this time she drew the symbol in the filth on the floor - Й
Harad! Perhaps the "Dunlanders" were Dark Numenorians! They might be far more dangerous - and interesting - than I had guessed. But, morgul sorcerers do not wander the wild lands alone, and I had never known them visit the northern lands. This must be the answer to the riddle of Gandalf's contact with the Ranger Erahad.
The Gray Pilgrim returned on horseback the eighth day after he had left. Had I not been on night watch, I would have missed his arrival. He did not stay at the inn and he spoke only to Erahad. The dense fog had fallen, so I was able to avoid the wizard for the two days he stayed in Tharbad.
Gandalf had ridden hurredly northward a few days before the three Haradim returned. They went directly to the large room they had occupied during their first stay. At meal time, I sat near their table to listen to their conversation with Ilene. She began by giving them a full account of the fog, followed by detailed descriptions of everyone who had passed through, including The Grey Pilgrim! How could she have known? Erahad's distress was as great as Haradim's shock.
Ilene's gossip transformed the three men. A numbing cold filled the room, and their ordinary appearance faded to reveal old and hoary men, dark and fell. Ilene shot for the kitchen like an arrow as Erahad drew his sword. The other travelers in the inn sat transfixed as their doom engulfed them.
Erahad's intention was to lob heads and ask questions later, but he was hit full in the chest with a deafening concussion and propelled him across the room, and into fireplace. He fell to the ground in a motionless heap. One Haradim moved toward the kitchen as the others drew weapons and dispatched the patrons sitting at their tables. Then, their eyes fell on me.
The Dark Ones do not converse with the Elves or others who know me, and their Morgul arts are derived from the hidden world. They did not know of me, and they could not understand what they saw. They faced a creature that did not exist at all in the hidden world. Their powers were useless against me.
With a shriek, they threw themselves at me with all the violence their ancient weapons could bear - and then fell back in horror when they left not a mark. Their attack had no more effect on me than it would have had on cold Caradhras. Knowing nothing of me, they did not expect that I would not attack, so they fled into the fog.
The patrons were noisily dying from their wounds, and Erahad's head had been crushed by his collision with the stones of the fireplace. An odd wheezing noise was coming from the Kitchen. There, I found Ilene, slumped in the corner in some sort of fit. I drug her into the main room in front of the hearth, and sat pondering where the Numenorians might have gone.
Ilene fell into a deep sleep, and I slipped out into the night. I moved across the road and away from the river, and stood listening. The faint glow coming from the door of the inn slowly faded. Long into the night I stood listening. At last, satisfied that the Numenorians were gone, I returned to inn where Ilene was still fast asleep and the others were becoming stiff.
I had decided to hide and wait for Gandalf's return, when several men strode through the open door. Four rangers were facing me with drawn weapons and murder in their eyes. I was anticipating terrifying four more men when Gandalf spoke. "Hold," he cried, "This is not the work of that one." "What has happened here," he asked me?
His voice awakened Ilene, so Gandalf was occupied with her for a while. He told the Rangers to bar my exit but not to attack me. They did as he asked, and I sat patiently and watched Gandalf minister to the sobbing female.
At last he turned his attention to me and asked about the Númenórians. His ministrations had produced a remarkable recovery for Ilene, and she began to tell him in great detail about the evening's tragedy. She included her conversation regarding his recent visit, still unaware of its effect on the Morgul Sorcerers.
Gandalf looked from the bodies to the me, and appeared to surmise what had transpired during Ilene's unconsciousness. The Rangers then busied themselves with the dead and Ilene began to sadly clean the Inn. Gandalf drew me aside and began questioning me in earnest.
"I presume you are interested in the actions of the Sorcerers", he began. "It is my intention to thwart them. Four more Rangers should arrive later today with an Elf of your acquaintance. We should be able to defeat the Sorcerers or at least drive them away. Their encounter with you has probably unnerved them, but it alone will not be enough to make them give up their quest. If you join us, you may witness the conclusion of this mystery, and afford us a degree of protection, if they are as frightened of you as I suspect. I ask that you accompany us, and I will tell no one here of your hidden nature. Do you agree?"
Regardless of Gandalf's true purpose, this arrangement would make it easier for me to observe the Haradim. Gandalf stood facing me for a time, but I did not give him the satisfaction of asking why the Númnorians had come to Tharbad. Neither of us knew I supposed, but both held suspicions. Long before Gandalf's arrival in Middle Earth, Tharbad had held the great relics Celebrimbor.
Were the Haradim searching for one of the rings? Which one, and for whom? Themselves?
I had never held one of the great rings, but it was said that twenty were made of various kinds, and that all had been lost. They were the greatest works of the of the Second Age. The Watchful Peace which had followed the defeat of Angmar would shatter if either the Haradim or the Rangers were to gain one of these relics. Perhaps this was why Gandalf was so interested in the arrival of dark Númnorians in Tharbad. Certainly I now was!
It mattered little to me who triumphed, only that might see great deeds done and witness Endor move closer to its fate. "Yes," I said, "I will accompany you."
Gandalf told the Rangers and Ilene that I was an acquaintance of his and that I would help them. They were all suspicious of me, particularly Ilene, but they started to prepare for the journey. A watch was set, but I was not asked to take my turn. Everyone slept in the main room of the inn, with weapons ready.
The Rangers and their Elven companion took longer to arrive than expected, and they were six, not four. Gandalf was right, I knew the Elf, Amrod, an Elf of great lineage but little distinction. He was one of a handful of Noldor who still walked the Middle Earth. He had been an inhabitant of Ost-in-Edhil during the rule of Celebrimbor, and his presence confirmed that Gandalfsuspected that the Haradim were in search of one of the Elven city's relics.
When Amrod arrive he gaped at me. Gandalf drew him aside and explained his plan to the uneasy acquiescence of the Elf, but the conversation lasted long. When they parted, it was clear that neither intended to take me into their council. As the recent arrivals rested, final preparations were made, and we departed before dawn.
During the night, the fog lifted. Such events are omens, I knew, but the meaning of this one was not clear to me. When we made ready to depart, the rangers gave me a horse. Gandalf and Amrod looked to one another and told them that I would not ride. This caused some consternation and bemusement, because the Rangers assumed I COULD not ride. But Gandalf was correct that I WOULD not ride. Horses were unconcerned if I was near them or even if I cared for them, but no horse had ever allowed me on its back.
We crossed the Grayflood without trouble, and turned upstream, following the ancient roadway where it could still be seen. Within a few miles we came to the lower reaches of Nin-in-Eliph where the floods had deeply burried the track. Amrod lead us first eastward into the swamp and then back to the south. At last he found the remnants of the ancient road to Moria. The myriad streams of Nin-in-Eliph had once been crossed by bridges and paved fords, now our progress was blocked sluggish and mire-filled streams. The Rangers checked ahead periodically and declared that the Haradim had followed the same route.
Before nightfall, we came to the edge of the forest of the lower Nin-in-Eliph, and before us spread the vast marshes of the Swan-Flight. Three of the Rangers continued on the Road as the rest of the party made camp. The advanced guard returned after dark to report that they had ridden well into the marsh, and that the path of the Haradim was cold. I wrapped myself in a blanket and feigned sleep.
We departed before dawn and the Rangers kept a steady pace until we beheld the ruins of Ost-in-Edhil in the distance. They were relieved and surprised that I had kept up, afoot, and they made a show of offering food and drink to me when we stopped within the ruined walls to take our mid-day meal.
When our journey resumed, Amrod began peering from side to side, chiefly to the south. I knew he must be searching for the road to the compound of the Gwaith-i-M�rdain, the Elven Smiths lead by Celebrimbor. As we approached the ancient path, I debated whether or not to let him pass it by. A short distance past the intersection, he turned suddenly and look into my face. Without a word, he returned and started on the path to where the First Ring had been made.
The Rangers rode ahead, and soon were satisfied that the Haradim had not come this way. As the rest of us rode on, three of the Rangers hid themselves beside the path.
The way to the house of Celebrimbor had been one of the Grandest of Ost-in-Edhil, but it not been used for millennia. Our progress slowed to a crawl, and we were forced to take several detours. It was growing dark when Amrod spoke to Gandalf, and the wizard announced we should spend the night there. Again the Elf looked searchingly at me, but I made no sign that I knew we had reached the courtyard of the Gwaith-i-M�rdain estate.
The rearguards arrived just as darkness fell. They reported that on one had followed us, and the Rangers I had traveled with confirmed that there was no sign of the Haradim at our camp. I suspected the Haradim were actually nearby, but I didn't know exactly where.
That night, Gandalf and Amrod began the watch, and firmly told the Rangers that I was not to share this duty. I suspected that the wizard anticipated an attack, so I made no sham of sleep. But I did not anticipate Amrod's actions when his watch was relieved. He walked directly to me and asked, "So, faithless one, have you come to watch us die?"
Elves are often guarded in their speach, but they can also be startlingly direct. Even so, I would not have expected this tact from Amrod so early in our journey. In truth, I did not expect any of the mortals to survive an encounter with the Haradim, so I answered simply, "Yes."
Amrod then lowered his voice. "Do you know why the Haradim are here," he continued.
"They search for one of the rings of Celebrimbor," I answered.
"Nay," he said, "they seek the maker of the rings." And with that, he strode to his blanket and lay down.
I had not seen Celebrimbor fall, but I had witnessed the destruction wrought by Sauron's army. The Elves were completely overpowered by the vast army of their former teacher and ally. The death toll in Ost-in-Edhil would have been even greater had not the Orcs lingered to hew and maim every corpse they found. I doubted that Celebrimbor or any of the Gwaith-i-M�rdain could have survived.
Sauron's complete victory over the Elves had sown the seeds of his own defeat just three years later. Sauron had regarded the army of Men with disdain. After razing Ost-in-Edhil, he had sacked the fortresses of Tharbad, and then his army rushed northward to intercept the Númenórians that had landed at Mithlond. The Orcs ambushed the smaller force under cover of darkness as it prepared to cross Sarn Ford, but the prey proved to be a preditor beyond any that Sauronhad ever know. The destruction of Sauron's orcs was quick and decisive.
Sauron's orcs began a chaotic retreat toward the ford at Tharbad, but on the planes, they were met by a second force of Númenórians which had arrived unnoticed from Lond Daer. The undisciplined Orcs fled eastward toward Nin-in-Eliph where most were drowned. Sauron managed to cross the river with his retinue and fled toward Mordor, but in Calenardhon (Rohan) he was overtaken by Númenórian knights. Only Sauron escaped, with the Elven rings, by fleeing into darkness. He never again openly confronted the Númenórians.
It was said that Celebrimbor had fallen defending his city, and that the rings had been taken from the Gwaith-i-M�rdain with torment. But no one had marked where their mortal remains lay. Of all their powers, the greatest craft of the Haradim was to animate the dead. Amrod's words had been guarded and vague, but that could have been his meaning.
When morning came, five of the Rangers prepared to depart with Amrod. Four more hid themselves in the trees surrounding the camp, and Gandalf came to me. "You know this place, do you not," he asked?
"I do, it was the estate of Lord Celebrimbor," I answered.
Ost-in-Edhil had been the last of the great Noldor cites of Middle Earth. Three Elven settlements were built on the Gulf of Lhûn by the Elves of Lindon after Beleriand had fallen beneath the waves at the end of the First Age, but the places of the Telari were not the match of the works of the Noldor.
After the Simarills were lost, most of the Noldor had departed forever to Tol Eressëa. The few who remained in Middle Earth built one last realm of beauty. The city of Ost-in-Edhil was built where the river Sirannon joined the Glanduin. It was protected on three sides by deep water and and on the fourth by high walls. Within, the city was crossed by endless waterways beneath a great forest. Birds of every kind dwelt there, but none were greater than the white swans of Nin-in-Eliph. The Swan-in-Flight was the emblem of Ost-in-Edhil, it was seen everywhere in its buildings and on its people.
The Noldor were like Men in their ambition, and when their city was at last filled with Elves, they turned to other pursuits. The House of Celebrimbor was foremost in the making of items of cunning. Galadriel and Celeborn were the Lady and Lord of the city - they had brought the Noldor to Eregion from Lindon. But, Celebrimbor was descended from Finwë, who was counted greater than the Ainur in his craft. And in Celebrimbor Silver-Fist, that craft existed in great measure.
In the Second Age, the craft of the house of Celebrimbor was the greatest of Middle Earth. The Númenórians came there often, after they had built their outpost of Tharbad nearby. In the Elven city, they traded gold and silver and exotic goods from afar for the crafts of Ost-in-Edhil and Moria. The Dwarves of Moria traded even Mithril to Celebrimbor for his craft. And the First Ring he made was not of silver or gold, but of Mithril.
The Rings were the greatest of Celebrimbor's accomplishments, and the cause of his ruin. For Sauron came to Tharbad to see this craft, and was welcomed there by the Noldor, because he had forsworn Morgoth at the end of the First Age. But Celebrimbor, himself, was not fooled, and he did not treat with Sauron.
When Celebrimbor made the First Ring, he was unsure of his craft. And, when he put it on his hand, he perceived that the ring was tainted by the Dwarves' art in the making of Mithril. Then, he saw that it was more than a thing of beauty. It was a living thing, it existed in the living world and in the world unseen, and like a living being it seemed to have power over the world and to possess will. And, it was grim, like the Dwarves.
Celebrimbor was one of the great Elven Lords, and his will was far greater than that of his creation. But, he feared what it might do, so he put it away and forbade anyone to touch it.
The Noldor Orodreth was among the most skillful of the Gwaith-i-M�rdain. He was not of the House of Celebrimbor, but he was close to Celebrimbor in mind and in skill. He had been with Celebrimbor when the First Ring was made, but he did not fully understand the Elf Lord's craft. When Celebrimbor hid his creation, Orodreth was dismayed. When Celebrimbor refused to lift his ban Orodreth fled in anguish.
It was Orodreth who welcomed Sauron to Tharbad even though Sauron had been forbidden entrance to Ost-in-Edhil by Galadriel and Celeborn. Orodreth did not trust the Mair fully, but Sauron fed his anger with Celebrimbor, and called it greed. Sauron was filled with lust for the creation of Celebrimbor. Here, again, the creations had surpassed their creators. The ring was apart from the creation of the Ainur, it was great beyond the will of the gods and the fate of the world.
The knowledge of Sauron was greater even than that of Celebrimbor, and he began to instruct Orodreth and the Elven smiths in the making of rings. Celebrimbor was the master of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain, but they worked with Sauron in secret, without the knowledge of Celebrimbor. Their rings were not made of Mithril, but they borrowed from the craft by which mithril was forged. The first rings were flawed, and Orodreth had them destroyed, but he was loth to do so, because the power of each ring came from its maker. In time, and with Sauron's supervision, their skill improved, and they forged sixteen great rings.
Each ring was made by one of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain. Each took their rings to themselves, and gained fame throughout Eregion. Galadriel and Celeborn learned of Sauron's involvement and demanded that the rings be surrendered, and Sauron expelled. Instead, the Gwaith-i-Mírdain rebelled, and Galadriel and Celeborn were forced to leave Ost-in-Edhil. In their place, the Gwaith-i-Mírdain took Celebrimbor for their Lord of Eregion.
When the last ring was made, Sauron departed in secret for Mordor. There he forged a ring of his own - far greater than the others, because in it he put a great part of his own power. And when he put it on his hand the sixteen rings of the Elves were made subject to it. Sauron perceived the thoughts and actions of the sixteen elves, and the will of each ring bowed to that of the One Ring.
Unknown to Sauron, Celebrimbor had made three great rings at Ost-in-Edhil, and the power of these rings came not from Celebrimbor, but from the Middle Earth, itself. Celebrimbor had been astounded by the success of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain, but his art was greater even than that of Sauron. Celebrimbor wore the three great rings on his hand when Sauron first put on the One Ring, and Celembrimbor perceived what Sauron had accomplished and what he planned. For the rings of power are connected even though the One Ring did not rule the three as it did the sixteen.
So great was Celembrimbor made by the three rings that he gathered the sixteen Elves before him and made them take the rings from their hands lest they become slaves of Sauron. And when this was done Orodreth threw down his ring to the ground and departed in anguish and was never again seen in Eregion.
Celebrimbor took the three rings from his hand and gave them to the wise of Lindon and Lórien, for he foresaw that Sauron would take them by force if they remained in Eregion. But, the sixteen he left in the keeping of their makers, all except the ring of Orodreth, which remained with Celebrimbor should Orodreth ever return.
All sixteen rings were taken by Sauron in the end, and Celebrimbor was killed. Nine of the rings were given by Sauron to Men, and he soon mastered them. Seven he gave to the seven kings of the Dwarves, but these gained him nothing. The three greater rings remained hidden from Sauron, and he never held them.
All this I told to Gandalf as we sat amid the ruins of Celebrimbor's estate. I did it not to aid him in his conflict with the Haradim, but rather to pass this knowledge of Middle Earth to one who would savor it. His task, given him by the Valar, was bought by Eärendil - to ease the plight of Men and Elves. The task of Sauron, given him by Morgoth, was to recast all of creation to his own glory. Neither of those tasks was my own.
Gandalf sat motionless when I finished. It was mid-morning and the birds of Ost-in-Edhil were filling the clearing with their cries. Sun streamed through the bare branches of the elms and poplars. At last he spoke.
"You have told me much, and I am grateful. It is more than even Amrod knows, and he lived here all the time the city stood. But, there is something more that you may know. Does Orodreth still live?"
Thus was Gandalf's purpose revealed. I had thought to confirm Amrod's knowledge of the First Ring and strenghthen the Ranger's resolve to search for it. But Gandalf's plans were now made plain, and I had confirmed their suspicions. The Haradim did not seek dead Celebrimbor. They believed that Orodreth would return to Tharbad.
"I do not know," I said.
I believed the First Ring lay hidden in Ost-in-Edhil, and that it might still be found. To abandon the search for a mad Elf was foolish. Orodreth had shared the fate of Maglor, I was sure. The torment of the loss of his ring made him like a wild beast that roamed the hills of Mordor, uncaught even by the snares of Sauron.
I had seen Orodreth in the Ephel Dúath, not long after the fall of Eärnur. He did not flee from me as he did from living things, so I observed him for a while. He looked to Minas Morgul, and walked toward it. Then he stopped and fled into hiding. Nothing remained of the Noldor he had once been. Too much of him had gone into his ring. It was on the hand of a Nazgul, and Orodreth knew the ringwraith's every thought and he had no thoughts of his own, beyond despair.
I doubted that Orodreth could ever stray far from Mordor, but even if so, he could never aid in the making of another ring. If that was the Haradim's plan, it was vain, and their plans no longer interested me. However, the discovery of First Ring - whether by Rangers or Haradim - would shake Middle Earth from Mordor to the Grey Havens.
Gandalf was not satisfied by my answer, but it did not appear to change his plan. I left him and began to walk through the dense forest that had once been fair courtyards and graceful buildings. It was within Gandalf's power to constrain me, but only for a short time, but he neither hindered me nor rose to follow me.
I found charred logs that might have been one of the smaller houses, and made my way eastward to where Celebrimbor's private quarters had been. I came across a broken wall, realized that I had come too far to the north, and turned to the southwest. There, after a hundred yards of dense undergrowth, I found a wall of cut stone. I had not witnessed the fighting in this part of Tharbad, but the broken stones told that Trolls had taken part in the fighting.
I followed the wall westward and then southward to where the entrance had once been. Shattered stone and burned wood were scattered about. I had seen this entrance when in the company of the Númenórians, but I had not been within the walls. I made my way eastward through the trees and nearly fell into a gaping hole between two ancient elms. Then, I realized that I was not alone.
Behind me stood one of the Rangers with an arrow drawn. I considered provoking him to shoot, to avoid further interference, but Gandalf arrived and told him to return to his surveillance. "We had planned to search the grounds when the others returned, but you seem to have found something of interest without us," he said.
Good! That meant he had not ruled out the search for the First Ring, as I had feared. I had been satisfying my own curiosity rather than aiding them, but it pleased me that the search would continue.
"Follow me," said Gandalf, and lowered himself into the hole. Again, I had failed to anticipate the wizard's actions. I was caught between witnessing the recovery of the First Ring, and doing the wizard's bidding. I followed him.
Gandalf had cast a spell on his staff and was making his way down a rubble-filled stair with the light it provided. I scrambled after him, dislogging several stones. One of these hit him full in the back, and turned to me full of wrath. But, he controlled his anger, and we proceeded downward.
At the bottom of the stairs there was a hallway half-filled with fetid water. Gandalf hesitated and then waded in. Again, I followed. The hallway was long and it slanted gradually downward, so we came to be chest deep and then neck deep in water, with the roof scant inches above our heads.
Rather than return to the surface to await the Rangers or Haradim, I slipped past the bobbing wizard and continued onward. No water in Middle Earth is proof against me, and I do not truly "breath," so I followed the hallway another 50 feet to its end. A rotted door was crumbling in the right wall.
My interest satisfied, I turned back down the hall to see the wizard's legs flailing toward me! Conversation was out of the question, so I moved out of his way and watched him search and find the door, and then kick frantically at it.
I realized then, the danger this wizard posed to me - like Men he was unpredictable. As a Mair, he was not supposed to openly dictate events of Middle Earth. He was sent to counter Sauron's unfair advantage over the mortals. He wasn't supposed to defeat Sauron, they were. They were the ones to watch, not him. His actions were supposed to be limited, theirs were not.
But Gandalf was not content to advise the Elves and Men. Now, he was thrashing around like a drowning halfling on an adventure gone bad. It occurred to me that the wizard's physical form might be lost in this foolhardy effort. However, on this day his fate was otherwise, and with a tremendous effort he dove down and thrust himself through the hole he had made in the door. I followed.
The room was completely filled with water, and Gandalf was trying frantically to get back out the door. I watched him struggle back down the hallway. With his staff gone, the room was completely dark. I turned to follow him, but then something caught my eye. A faint glow was visible accross the flooded room. I struggled toward it and saw, half burried in muck an elven sword - glowing!
All of the great weapons had been made to signal the approach of Melkor's evil creatures. The Haradim would not cause such a sword to glow. Orcs or worse must be near.
I hastened out the door and back down the hallway. Gandalf had preceded me, and I followed his snail trail up the rocky stairs. I found him paused motionless beneath the small entrance. A head thrust downward into the hole and Gandalf drove his sword through an eye. An Orc tumbled down the stairs toward me, followed by a jumble of rocks that his companions threw down the hole.
The wizard sent a blinding arc up through the opening, and the rocks stopped falling. Then, sounds of combat came from above, and Gandalf shot up through the hole faster than I though possible. I followed as quickly as I could, hoping not to miss the encounter. When I reached the surface I could see neither Orc nor wizard. The fog had returned.
I heard the sounds of battle in the distance, and hurried in that direction. By the time I arrived the ground was littered with Orcs. Amrod's party had spied the orcs entering Tharbad and had followed them to our camp. When Gandalf's fireworks distracted them, the Rangers took advantage of their surprise and attacked. The orcs had fled toward our camp where they other four Rangers were waiting. None of the Orcs would escape.
The party held a hurried council. They suspected that the orcs were in league with the Haradim. The Rangers had come prepared to face marauding sorcerers, not troops of orcs. Gandalf explained our discovery of the flooded room and indicated my "assistance." Amrod was clearly displeased. An uneasy silence followed.
"Then, my council is that we continue or search as planned," Gandalf finished.
Everyone nodded in assent, and we prepared for a second night in the ruins. Again, Amrod came to me when his watch ended.
"You did not see us die, faithless one," he said.
"No, but you did not face the Haradim," I answered. "And it seems that at least YOU seek the First Ring, even if they do not."
"If they now seek the ring, it is because their search for its maker has failed," he said. "It was not the Ring that Gandalf sought in the tunnel this day. It was the Ring Maker."
"If you mean Orodreth," I said, "such an effort could only have ended in failure, as you must know." I did not expect to learn more from Amrod, but he was more forthcoming that he or Gandalf had ever been before.
He paused as if to consider what effect his words might have. He started to go, but then turned toward me. "Yet that is their belief," he said quietly. "And that is why we are here." "They have journied from Harad in search of Nin-in-Eliph." "There are Men of their kind in Lond Daer, who have fortold of the ringmaker would return to Ost-in-Edhil." "It is the Men of Lond Daer who told Gandalf of the three Haradim."
I believed that coincidences of this kind were omens. Gandalf, I, and the Haradim had all been in Lond Daer at the same time. I knew that the Númenórians there practiced dark arts, but I had not known of their acquaintance with Gandalf. I also knew of their oracles. Some were true, and if three men had traveled a thousand miles because of one, I understood Gandalf's concern.
"I believe that all the Elven ring makers are dead, save possibly Orodreth," I said. "I met him long ago, and he was truly mad." "He could not make a ring. " "The oracle must be false." "The only worthy task before us is the recovery of the First Ring."
Gandalf had approached while we were speaking. "When did you last see the ring maker," he asked.
"During the reign of Vorundil," I said, "two centuries ago." "Orodreth was eating leaves and insects, and was barely clothed." "He spoke not to me to, but to voices only he could hear."
"And have you ever seen the First Ring or held it in your hand," he asked?
"No," I admitted.
"I have," said Amroth. "It has great power, but that power cannot be weilded." "The other rings gave to their makers powers over the earth." "The first ring did not - it was an accident. "
Thus was my folly revealed, and I understood why Dain had wept. The treasure I sought was like myself - an accident.
I walked slowly away from the camp. I had expected to witness one of the great events of the age, but instead I had learned how little I understood about Men and Elves, and especially wizards.
A lifetime later, I passed again through Tharbad, and stopped at the Gray Swan. The innkeeper was young and fit and obviously a Ranger. The inn, however, was unchanged. No one had ever heard of Ilene, but the tale was told that long ago a battle had been fought in Tharbad against Orcs and Haradim. I bought a round for the house (four of us) and listened to the tale. The Haradim had struck the first blow and then had provoked an attack by the Orcs of the Misty Mountains. The Tharbadlings had defeated the Orcs, and the Haradim had vanished without a trace.
That night, I left the inn, crossed the river, and walked without stopping to the ruins of the house of Celebrimbor. The entrance to the crypt had filled in, but with time and a broken Orc blade I made a hole big enough to squeeze through. I fashioned a rough tourch from tattred cloth and descended down the stairway to the tunnel, which was dry. At the end of the hallway was the rotted door and within the room I found the sword, untarnished. And before the tourch failed, I found a crumpled chest, and in it a ring of Mithril.
I took the sword and the ring. The sword I gave to the young Ranger at the Gray Swan. "May it teach you who you are", I said. He was still gaping when I passed through the inn door, and out of his life forever.
The ring is on my hand.