THE SOUTHRON SPIES
April 17 - 18, 3020
Morning of Eostormonath 17, That is April 17, in the Year 3020.. Third Age.
By Angmar and Eowyn
Wulfhelm, Lord of Dunharrow, sat at the great table in the meeting hall of Dunharrow, the table so skillfully wrought by the hands of Rohirric craftsman and presented to Eomer King as a gift for the new hall. At the end of the hall was the throne of the king, the wood for its construction cut from the hillsides, as was the raised dias upon which it rested. Hanging from one wall was the revered tapestry of Eorl the Young, one of the few things salvaged from the Golden Hall in Edoras. On the other walls hung tapestries that had been donated by wealthy families. Someday the tapestry of Eorl would hang again in the hall of the new Medusled when it was rebuilt, but who would say when that day would be. There were matters far more imperative to attend to than the building of a hall and the hanging of tapestry, and this hall in Dunharrow would serve until then.
Shields, swords and spears adorned the walls, as well as wolf pelts and animal hides, memories of the fell winter just a few months earlier when the wolves had come even into Dunharrow. Smoke from the brazier in the center of the floor curled up towards the louver in the ceiling above.
In a far corner to the side of the throne, a door opened, and a lady clad in white walked into the hall. Wulfhelm began to rise from his seat, but with a smile and a raise of her hand, the lady bid him stay seated.
Gracefully, she moved to the table and took a seat near him. "My lord," the Lady Eowyn asked in the tongue of the Riddermark, as was the custom of her people when no one of foreign lands was about, "what is the news of the day? Did a courier bring me a letter from my brother?"
"Aye, lady, there was one for you from your brother." He reached into a mound of dispatches and pulled forth a letter and handed it to her.
"Was that all?" she asked, her voice hesitant.
"Let me see," he said, smiling at her. "Perhaps there is another one hiding here someplace. Yes, indeed, 'tis here amidst all the others, a letter addressed to you bearing the crest of Gondor."
He smiled again. "I believe the young Steward has taken a fancy for you."
Blushing, she replied as she took the letter, "He is a good friend, nothing more..." She smiled to herself as she read the missive and uncertainty, it seemed, nagged at her thoughts, but yet it was a pleasant sort of doubt...
Wulfhelm, his long beard streaked with gray, smiled at Eowyn once again, for she reminded him so much both of his wife Heregyth, who, though she had seen almost sixty summers, had a face unlined and hair of bright golden, and his second daughter, just wed to a young rider of the Westfold. Then his face became somber as he thought of the news that he had just received and he hesitated to tell the White Lady. Pondering, he knew that he must.
"My lady," he said, "would that your brother the king were here, and not far away inspecting the new tower being built in the mountains to watch our southern borders. There has been news of distress today. The scouts high in the mountains behind their rock outposts have reported seeing two men, two women and a lad, and following close behind, some miles back a large party of Southrons advancing towards the hidden gates. 'Tis strange indeed, lady, what could be the meaning of this, but whether it may be some trick or ruse is not the question. Our men will be waiting for them, whatever may come. The seven walls and the seven gates will provide a strong bulwark against the foes of the Mark, but still," he said and his brow furrowed in concern, "I wish the king were here!"
Her smile faded. "So it appears that at last the Dark Land prepares to strike our land yet again, thinking our strength of arms weakened after the long winter," she said grimly and looked over to the Lord of Dunharrow. "Wulfhelm, have the people been alerted that an enemy is advancing upon us through our back door?"
"Aye, lady, messengers have published the news of this threat to our south, and even now couriers hasten to bring news of this to the king. This will be the first test of our defenses and the days are indeed strange when the Rohirrim dare to take up positions in a place so dark and fell."
And so throughout all that day and into the night, Wulfhelm directed and ordered the defense of Rohan, receiving dispatches and sending out orders as to what the men in the long, dark tunnel and chasm were to do.
Eowyn, forgoing her daily ride, had asked to stay with him so that she would know the news of all that was happening, and he had granted her that request. She had thought about going to her room at the side of the new hall and donning her helm, armor and sword, but she had decided against it, unless the situation should become most dire.
***
Leofsige was a Rider used to the broad plains of the Westfold and he was indeed loath to venture into the dark underground recesses of a place he feared more than any other, the ancient home of the Dead Men of the Dark Years who had long ago ceased to be living men but instead had become ghastly shades of the dead that still walked.
The tunnel was a foul and gloomy place, seemingly moreso at night, and when he went into Baldor's Cavern, he had always felt a chill of apprehension whenever he passed the gate where the skeleton of Baldor had been found. No one dared breach that barrier into the unknown, fearing lest they release they knew not what phantoms.
As he passed by the Door, Leofsige quickened his pace, for he had been bidden to go to the first gate and there wait until he was ordered by his captain. Two eoreds manned the seven walls and seven gates, and now he waited with his fellows to go and challenge the Southron invaders. Men more accustomed to the open sunshine than to dark holes in the earth stealthily relayed messengers back and forth from the warden of the first wall and reported the strange sight of two men, two women and a boy and their horses and packhorses steadily coming towards them, with what appeared to be a large group of shouting, screaming, cursing Southrons on their heels.
Now news had reached the first wall that the advancing group of spies had separated and the messengers knew no more. It appeared that one of their company had stayed behind, possibly to give information to the intruding Southrons, they thought.
The warden of the first wall ordered half an eored to advance and subdue with as little noise as possible the closer part of the company with the women and the boy.
Leofsige and Adibe portrayed by Eowyn
Debanni portrayed by Madurz
Vardamir portrayed by Hobbitness
Narrator, Byrtwine and Wulfhelm portrayed by Angmar
Vardamir: *Vardamir, Candon, Adibe, and
Debanni continue to flee through the Paths of the Dead. It feels
as though they have been running forever. They are all ready to
drop with exhaustion, but there are enemy Southrons at their heels...they
do not know whether or not Ceolwulf has been killed already. Enemies
lie behind them, and the terrifying unknown ahead of them.*
Vardamir: *But there is nowhere else to go, so they push on through
the darkness. Their feet slap again and again over the stone ground.
They can barely see their way in the eerie shadows thrown by Vardamir's
torch. Every moment they expect one of the shadows to materialize
into some horrid ghost, seize them, and drag them to some unthinkable
doom.*
Vardamir: *Candon looks beseechingly up at Vardamir. "I cannot,
I cannot run anymore!" the boy pants. Groaning inwardly,
Vardamir hoists the boy onto his back and carries him. Soon there
is no thought left in Vardamir's mind but the need to keep his
burning legs moving as fast as possible.*
Debanni: *Adibe breathes hard and keeps each step quick and glances
back to a more struggling Debanni. "Hurry now, Debanni!"
Vardamir and the Candon are close in front of her.*
Debanni: *She is filled with a rush as she pushes on in the unknown
of all directions. Debanni's hand shakes wildly as she tries to
keep a grip on the torch and keep it steady. Her legs were weak
and her breath was deep, but she tried to keep her mind easy and
focused on the run, but stepping on hard, uneven ground, she felt
her ankles ache and twist and she moaned and did all to keep from
stumbling. The darkness seemed to swallow her and for a minute
she thought she might pass out when all she heard was her heart
and she started to see black blotches.*
Debanni: *"Mother!" Adibe grit her teeth as her daughter's
cry for her triggered an immediate alarm, just as her cries would
when she was just an infant. Adibe halted her steps until her
daughter caught up and then she stood by her side as support.
"Come, my daughter...we shall make it through together."*
Vardamir: *Vardamir stops, stumbling and swaying a little, at
Debanni's cry. His heart sinks as he notices that Debanni seems
worse off than Candon. He puts the boy down, exhorting him to
be strong, and offers to carry Debanni, all the while reminding
them of the need to start again immediately.*
Leofsige: *From out of the gloom steps a band of men. Vardamir
can see them through the light of his torch; there are many of
them, all with swords drawn and at the ready.*
Leofsige: Halt! Halt! Go no further! *a deep voice bellows out*
Stay where you are, strangers unknown, who venture unbidden through
these perilous paths without the leave of Eomer King! Ahead of
you is a wall; on top of it are archers with their bows aimed
and ready.
Leofsige: *A flaming arrow flies past Vardamir in the darkness
and clatters somewhere behind them against the stone floor.*
Leofsige: Our men outnumber your small band; lay down your weapons
and yield to us, lest we slay you and add more shades to these
haunted paths.
Byrtwine: Give me your sword and be quick about it! *a young man
orders Vardamir*
Vardamir: *Vardamir throws down his torch, then unsheathes his
sword. His hand shakes as he hands it over to the Rohir, for he
finds himself overwhelmed with a reluctance to part with it. He
steps back and raises his hands, palms out* We are friends of
the Mark! I am Vardamir of Gondor, and our leader, further behind,
is Ceolwulf of Rohan.
Vardamir: We have run away from slavery in Gondor. We both fought
at Pelennor. This boy is the son of a Gondorian soldier who fell
there. These women are of Mordor, but they travel with us now...we
were holding them for ransom, but we were followed, and even now
a band of Southrons pursues us!
Vardamir: Please, friends, help us. We are at your mercy. Remember
the old alliance between Rohan and Gondor of old. *He bows politely
to them*
Byrtwine: You held these women for ransom! What manner of men
are you! Tie them up and send them through the gate!
Debanni: *Debanni and Adibe stop with wide eyes in the dark, but
see the men all around then and they pant furiously and huddle
together. Adibe despairs that for all of this they were to just
become prisoners once again of a land that hates them. But no
matter what their fate had been grim from the start. Debanni lowers
her head and tries to catch her breath and feels a sinking in
her stomach at the man's command*
Vardamir: *Vardamir answers Byrtwine* Honorable men, sir, but
made desperate by war. Having no other recourse, we joined a band
of outlaws who stole from the lords of Mordor. The leader of the
outlaw band was killed in an attack, and we had to flee with the
women, for we were hunted. Though they are Haradrim, they are
harmless women, sir, harmless as this boy.
Byrtwine: You can tell Wulfhelm, the Lord of Dunharrow, all about
it!
Leofsige: *Men lay hands on Vardamir and pull his hands behind
his back, securely binding them with cords. Byrtwine takes Vardamir's
sword and fastens it upon his own sword belt. Three others go
to Debanni, Adibe and Candon, though treating them gently, still
they bind their hands*
Leofsige: Southron spies! *Leofsige exclaims* They would make
up any tale, just to save themselves from our blades, or their
necks from the gallows.
Byrtwine: Move them through the gates! The torches down the tunnel
grow brighter! *Byrtwine exhorts*
Debanni: *Debanni has flashbacks of the cruel Algund and prepares
herself for a like near future. Adibe fears to have to come to
terms with the fact that her and her daughter might be separated
or soon die. Torture was likely from the hands of these enemies
of their land.*
Leofsige: *The men begin herding Vardamir, Debanni, Adibe and
Candon towards the gate. Other men fall in behind them, while
others go to their front and sides, surrounding them. More men
go down the tunnel and get behind their horses, driving them forward.
The horses are caught, and led northward towards the gate*
Vardamir: *Vardamir thinks that even if the men of Rohan are slow
to believe them, they are in much better hands than if the Southrons
had caught them. And Ceolwulf's presence will increase their credibility...
if Ceolwulf lives. Ah well, if worst comes to worst, Vardamir
does not truly fear death, for it is only a passage to the One.
It would be terrible if the boy or the women should come to harm,
but Vardamir does not expect that from the Rohirrim. He walks
without resisting, smiling and winking down at Candon.*
Leofsige: *Quickly they are taking through the first gate, and
then the second, and on and on, until they have gone through all
seven gates. They travel about two miles and are given no rest,
but instead urged forward by their captors. Each gate shuts behind
them; there will be no escape for this unlucky group of intruders.*
Leofsige: *After about an hour and a half, Vardamir and his company
find themselves in an open glen under the light of the stars.
It is a little after midnight, in the wee hours of the 18th of
Eostormonath, which is April in the Common Speech. Though it is
spring, snow still remains upon the ground in places and beneath
the dark pines, a memory of the harsh winter that just passed.*
Vardamir: *Exhausted and overheated, the prisoners do not notice
the cold until they have stood still for a while and their limbs
have ceased to tremble. Vardamir blinks hard and looks around
him. He smiles at the starlight. It is a good sign. He glances
at the frightened women and feels pity for them; they are in an
enemy land, while Vardamir feels that he is finally among friends
again. He expects that the Rohirrim will believe him and Ceolwulf
eventually, that someone will recognize Ceolwulf, and there will
be a happy end to this adventure after all. He hopes that the
women will find some measure of safety as well...though that will
be more difficult.*
Vardamir: *He flexes his shoulders and sighs, then bends down
to Candon. "Welcome to Rohan," he grins. "We have
fulfilled your grandfather's wish."*
Adibe: *Adibe looks around into the dark and chilly glen, its
coolness a welcome relief at first, but it only adding to her
misery after a while. This was nothing like the weather of Harad,
nor of Southern Gondor, which though far more cooler than Harad,
still the springs were warm and pleasant. Her clothing is far
too light for this type of climate and she shudders, trembling
from fear and cold.*
Adibe: *A great weariness is upon her for she has traveled for
hours with little rest. Her legs and feet ache from constant walking
and running, and pain is in her stomach from both exertion and
hunger; her wrists hurt from where they are bound. So here she
and her daughter were, captured by their enemies, and entirely
at the mercy of the fearsome northern barbarians, who would no
doubt have their sport and then kill them in cruel ways. She fearfully
looks at the men around her, and then glances at her daughter.
She hoped death would come quickly for them both, and the torments
they would receive would not be prolonged.*
Debanni: *Debanni sucks in cool air and the sounds of night all
around her start to fill her ears once again when all that was
there was just deafening sound of her heartbeat. Light filters
back into her eyes and all coupled with dread of being held a
prisoner again..her hands tied... lack of food and sleep and the
nerve shattering, physically exhausting pursuit in a place of
terror, overwhelmed her to an incomparable degree and she whimpered
and sunk to her knees.*
Debanni: *She swayed there and her tired head slowly angled back
to look at her worried mother and she could hardly choke out the
words. "I am sorry mother." More was spoken though unheard
for only her lips moved "I am scared."*
Byrtwine: Get on your feet, spy! Or we will have to carry you!
*Byrtwine says angrily*
Debanni: *Debanni lets out a sob and struggles to stand..she moves
off one knee and places her foot on the ground and she rocks there
and unsteadily begins to raise herself*
Adibe: Please, sir, have mercy! *Adibe looks up at the man* We
have traveled for hours with little rest and we are very weary.
Debanni: *Debanni lets out a sob and struggles to stand..she moves
off one knee and places her foot on the ground and she rocks there
and unsteadily begins to raise herself*
Vardamir: *Vardamir watches Debanni's moment of fear and weakness.
Though she is an enemy, he cannot help feeling sorry for this
woman. He kneels next to her and tries to help her up, indicating
that she should lean against his shoulder, though his hands are
tied, and so push herself up.*
Byrtwine: *Grumbling and knocking Vardamir aside, Byrtwine bends
over and picks up the Southron woman and throws her over his shoulder*
Be quiet, spy, and do not struggle! *he snarls*
Debanni: *She grunts as she feels his shoulder plunge into her
stomach as he slings over his shoulder*
Debanni: *She trembles in his grasp as tears fall from her eyes*
Adibe: *Though her feet and legs feel like they are about to falter
on her, Adibe rushes forward, to be close to her daughter, whom
the Northman has so callously slung over his shoulder*
Vardamir: *Sighing, Vardamir rises and gently herds Candon farther,
following the Rohir who carries Debanni.*
Byrtwine: *Byrtwine, Leofsige and the other men herd the prisoners
before them to a great hall and after ushering them inside, they
find themselves before a gruff looking man seated to the side
of a throne*
Narrator: *Byrtwine puts Debanni on her feet upon the floor. Heavily
guarded, they appear before Lord Wulfhelm of Dunharrow.* Foolish
spies, why did you think you could penetrate our defenses? *he
says and looks at them with piercing blue eyes*
Wulfhelm: *He looks Vardamir, Debanni, Adibe and Candon over and
says* This morning, the council will meet and listen to your tale.
Until then, you will rest in the guardhouse. Put the man in chains.
The women and boy can abide in one cell. Now take them away!