The Lays of Beleriand (8 page)

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Now Beleg the brave backward led them,

but his foot fumbled and he fell thudding

with Turin atop of him, and trembling stumbled Flinding forward; there frozen lying

long while they listened for alarm stirring,

for hue and cry, and their hearts cowered;

but unbroken the breathing of the bands sleeping, as darkness deepened to dead midnight,

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d the lifeless hour when the loosened soulo

ft sheds the shackles of the shivering flesh.

Then dared their dread to draw its breath,

and they found their feet in the fouled earth, and bent they both their backs once more

to their task of toil, for Turin woke not.

There the huntsman's hand was hurt deeply,

as he groped on the ground, by a gleaming point --

'twas Dailir his dart dearly prized

he had found by his foot in fragments twain,

and with barbs bended: it broke at last

neath his body falling. It boded ill.

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As in dim dreaming, and dazed with horror,

they won their way with weary slowness,

foot by footstep, till fate them granted

the leaguer at last of those lairs to pass,

and their burden laid they, breathless gasping, on bare-bosmed earth, and abode a while,

ere by winding ways they won their path

up the slanting slopes with silent labour,

with spended strength sprawling to cast them

in the darkling dell neath the deep thicket.

Then sought his sword, and songs of magic

o'er its eager edge with Elfin voice

there Beleg murmured, while bluely glimmered

the lamp of Flinding neath the laced thorns.

There wondrous wove he words of sharpness,

and the names of knives and Gnomish blades

he uttered o'er it: even Ogbar's spear

and the glaive of Gaurin whose gleaming stroke did rive the rocks of Rodrim's hall;

the sword of Saithnar, and the silver blades

of the enchanted children of chains forged

in their deep dungeon; the dirk of Nargil,

the knife of the North in Nogrod smithied;

the sweeping sickle of the slashing tempest,

the lambent lightning's leaping falchion

even Celeg Aithorn that shall cleave the world.

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Then whistling whirled he the whetted sword-blade and three times three it threshed the gloom,

till flame was kindled flickering strangely

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like licking firelight in the lamp's glimmer

blue and baleful at the blade's edges.

Lo! a leering laugh lone and dreadful

by the wind wafted wavered nigh them;

their limbs were loosened in listening horror; they fancied the feet of foes approaching,

for the horns hearkening of the hunt afoot

in the rustling murmur of roving breezes.

Then quickly curtained with its covering pelt was the lantern's light, and leaping Beleg

with his sword severed the searing bonds

on wrist and arm like ropes of hemp

so strong that whetting; in stupor lying

entangled still lay Turin moveless.

For the feet's fetters then feeling in the dark Beleg blundering with his blade's keenness

unwary wounded the weary flesh

of wayworn foot, and welling blood

bedewed his hand -- too dark his magic:

that sleep profound was sudden fathomed;

in fear woke Turin, and a form he guessed

o'er his body bending with blade naked.

His death or torment he deemed was come,

for oft had the Orcs for evil pastime

him goaded gleeful and gashed with knives

that they cast with cunning, with cruel spears.

Lo! the bonds were burst that had bound his hands: his cry of battle calling hoarsely

he flung him fiercely on the foe he dreamed,

and Beleg falling breathless earthward

was crushed beneath him. Crazed with anguish

then seized that sword the son of Hurin,

to his hand lying by the help of doom;

at the throat he thrust; through he pierced it, that the blood was buried in the blood-wet mould; ere Flinding knew what fared that night,

all was over. With oath and curse

he bade the goblins now guard them well,

or sup on his sword: 'Lo! the son of Hurin

is freed from his fetters.' His fancy wandered in the camps and clearings of the cruel Glamhoth.

Flight he sought not at Flinding leaping

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with his last laughter, his life to sell

gmid foes imagined; but Fuilin's son

there stricken with amaze, starting backward, cried: 'Magic of Morgoth! A! madness damned!

with friends thou fightest! ' -- then falling suddenly the lamp o'erturned in the leaves shrouded

that its light released illumined pale

with its flickering flame the face of Beleg.

Then the boles of the trees more breathless rooted stone-faced he stood staring frozen

on that dreadful death, and his deed knowing

wildeyed he gazed with waking horror,

as in endless anguish an image carven.

So fearful his face that Flinding crouched

and watched him, wondering what webs of doom

dark, remorseless, dreadly meshed him

by the might of Morgoth; and he mourned for him, and for Beleg, who bow should bend no more,

his black yew-wood in battle twanging --

his life had winged to its long waiting

in the halls of the Moon o'er the hills of the sea.

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Hark! he heard the horns hooting loudly,

no ghostly laughter of grim phantom,

no wraithlike feet rustling dimly --

the Orcs were up; their ears had hearkened

the cries of Turin; their camp was tumult,

their lust was alight ere the last shadows

of night were lifted. Then numb with fear

in hoarse whisper to unhearing ears

he told his terror; for Turin now

with limbs loosened leaden-eyed was bent

crouching crumpled by the corse moveless;

nor sight nor sound his senses knew,

and wavering words he witless murmured,

'A! Beleg,' he whispered, 'my brother-in-arms.'

Though Flinding shook him, he felt it not:

had he comprehended he had cared little.

Then winds were wakened in wild dungeons

where thrumming thunders throbbed and rumbled; storm came striding with streaming banners

from the four corners of the fainting world;

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then the clouds were cloven with a crash of lightning, and slung like stones from slings uncounted

the hurtling hail came hissing earthward,

with a deluge dark of driving rain.

Now wafted high, now wavering far,

the cries of the Glamhoth called and hooted,

and the howl of wolves in the heavens' roaring was mingled mournful: they missed their paths, for swollen swept there swirling torrents

down the blackening slopes, and the slot was blind, so that blundering back up the beaten road

to the gates of gloom many goblins wildered

were drowned or drawn in Deadly Nightshade

to die in the dark; while dawn came not,

while the storm-riders strove and thundered

all the sunless day, and soaked and drenched

Flinding go-Fuilin with fear speechless

there crouched aquake; cold and lifeless

lay Beleg the bowman; brooding dumbly

Turin Thalion neath the tangled thorns

sat unseeing without sound or movement.

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The dusty dunes of Dor-na-Fauglith

hissed and spouted. Huge rose the spires

of smoking vapour swathed and reeking,

thick-billowing clouds from thirst unquenched, and dawn was kindled dimly lurid

when a day and night had dragged away.

The Orcs had gone, their anger baffled,

o'er the weltering ways weary faring

to their hopeless halls in Hell's kingdom;

no thrall took they Turin Thalion --

a burden bore he than their bonds heavier,

in despair fettered with spirit empty

in mourning hopeless he remained behind.

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*

NOTES.

617. Blodrin: Bauglir A, and B as typed. See line 618.

618. Bauglir Ban's son A, and B as typed (Bauglir > Blodrin 631.

636.

653.

661, 696.

711.

carefully-made early change, Ban > Bor hasty and later).

See lines 661, 696, 990.

Fangair A, Fangros B as typed.

Tengwethiel [sic] A, Tain-Gwethil B as typed. Cf. line 431.

Turin Thaliodrin A, and B as typed. Cf. lines I 15, 333, 720.

As at line 618.

Aiglir-angrin A, Aiglir Angrin B as typed, emended roughly in pencil to Eiglir Engrin; cf. line 1055. In the Tale of Turambar occurs Angorodin (the Iron Mountains), II.77.

711-14.

These lines read in A (and as typed in B, with of Hell is reared for of the Hells of Iron):

where Aiglir-angrin the Iron Hills lie

and Thangorodrim's thunderous mountain

o'er the hopeless halls of the Hells of iron

wrought at the roots of the ruthless hills.

718.

720.

780.

816.

818 -- 20.

826.

834.

0.

1055.

1098.

1137.

1147.

1198.

1214.

1324.

335.

Cf. Bilbo's second riddle to Gollum.

As at line 653.

Delimorgoth A, Delu-Morgoth B as typed, dark Morgoth a late pencilled emendation. At lines 11 and 51 Delu-Morgoth is an emendation of Delimorgoth in B.

Tun also in A; see lines 50, 430.

Against these lines my father wrote in the margin of B:

'Captured in battle at gates of Angband.'

o'er the black boulders of the Blasted Plain A (marked with query).

mercy: magic A, and B as typed; mercy in pencil and not quite certain.

Daideloth A emended at time of writing to Dor-na-Maiglos, Dor-na-Fauglith B as typed. In margin of A is written: 'a plateau from Dai "high", Deloth "plain"'; contrast II. 337, entry Dor-na-Dhaideloth.99

Blodrin Ban's son A, and B as typed; Ban's > Bor's later in B. At lines 617 -- 18, 661, 696 A, and B as typed, had Bauglir, changed to Blodrin in B.

Aiglir Angrin A, and B as typed; see line 711.

Bauglir A and B.

This line is emended in B, but the reading is uncertain: apparently Then his bow unbending Beleg asked him: In the margin of B is written r?, i.e. dreadly for deadly.

East: South A, and B as typed.

bosmed (bosomed) written thus in both A and B.

Nargil: Loruin A, with Nargil added as an alternative.

Turin Thaliodrin A, and B as typed; see lines 653, 720.1

Thalion-Turin A, and B as typed.

Commentary on Part Il 'Beleg'.

In this part of the poem there are some narrative developments of much interest. The poem follows the Tale (II. 76) in making Beleg become one of Turin's band on the marches of Doriath not long after Turin's departure from the Thousand Caves, and with no intervening event -- in The Silmarillion (p. 200) Beleg came to Menegroth, and after speaking to Thingol set out to seek Turin, while in the Narn (pp. 82 -- 5) there is the

'trial of Turin', and the intervention of Beleg bringing Nellas as witness, before he set out on Turin's trail. In the poem it is explicit that Beleg was not searching for him, and indeed knew nothing whatever of what had passed in the Thousand Caves (595). But Turin's band are no longer the

'wild spirits' of the Tale; they are hostile to all comers, whether Orcs or Men or Elves, including the Elves of Doriath (560 -- 1, 566), as in The Silmarillion, and in far greater detail in the Narn, where the band is called Gaurwaith, the Wolf-men, 'to be feared as wolves'.

The element of Beleg's capture and maltreatment by the band now appears, and also that of Turin's absence from the camp at the time.

Several features of the story in the Nant are indeed already present in the poem, though absent from the more condensed account in The Silmarillion: as Beleg's being tied to a tree by the outlaws (577, Narn pp. 92 -- 3), and the occasion of Turin's absence -- he was on the trail of the Orcs,

as they hastened home to the Hills of Iron

with the loot laden of the lands of Men

just as in the Narn (pp. 91 -- 2), where however the story is part of a complex set of movements among the Woodmen of Brethil, Beleg, the Gaurwaith, and the Orcs.

Whereas in the Tale it was only now that Beleg and Turin became companions-in-arms, we have already seen that the poem has the later story whereby they had fought together on the marches of Doriath before Turin's flight from the Thousand Caves (p.27); and we now have also the development that Turin's altered mood at the sight of Beleg tied to the tree (Then Turin's heart was tumed from hate, 584), and-Beleg's own reproaches (Shall the foes of Faerie be friends of Men? 603), led to the band's turning their arms henceforth only against the foes of Faerie (644). Of the great oath sworn by the members of the band,, explicitly echoing that of the Sons of Feanor (634) -- and showing incidentally that in that oath the holy mountain of Taniquetil (Tain-Gwethil) was taken in witness (636), there is no trace in The Silmarillion or the Narn: in the latter, indeed, the outlaws are not conceived in such a way as to make such an oath-taking at all probable.

Lines 643 ff., describing the prowess of the fellowship in the forest, are the ultimate origin of the never finally achieved story of the Land of Dor-Cuarthol (The Silmarillion p. 205, Narn pp. 152-4); lines 651-4