Unfinished Tales

‘I do not,’ said Forweg; ‘but he has been rebuked swiftly enough. I will take you in his stead, if you will heed my words better.’

Then two of the outlaws cried out against him; and one was a friend of the fallen man. Ulrad was his name. ‘A strange way to gain entry to a fellowship,’ he said: ‘the slaying of one of the best men.’

‘Not unchallenged,’ said Túrin. ‘But come then! I will endure you both together, with weapons or with strength alone; and then you shall see if I am fit to replace one of your best men.’ Then he strode towards them; but Ulrad gave back and would not fight. The other threw down his bow, and looked Túrin up and down; and this man was Andróg of Dor-lómin.

‘I am not your match,’ he said at length, shaking his head. ‘There is none here, I think. You may join us, for my part. But there is a strange look about you; you are a dangerous man. What is your name?’

‘Neithan, the Wronged, I call myself,’ said Túrin, and Neithan he was afterwards called by the outlaws; but though he told them that he had suffered injustice (and to any who claimed the like he ever lent too ready an ear), no more would he reveal concerning his life or his home. Yet they saw that he had fallen from some high state, and that though he had nothing but his arms, those were made by elvensmiths. He soon won their praise, for he was strong and valiant, and had more skill in the woods than they, and they trusted him, for he was not greedy, and took little thought for himself; but they feared him, because of his sudden angers, which they seldom understood. To Doriath Túrin could not, or in pride would not, return; to Nargothrond since the fall of Felagund none were admitted. To the lesser folk of Haleth in Brethil he did not deign to go; and to Dor-lómin he did not dare, for it was closely beset, and one man alone could not hope at that time, as he thought, to come through the passes of the Mountains of Shadow. Therefore Túrin abode with the outlaws, since the company of any men made the hardship of the wild more easy to endure; and because he wished to live and could not be ever at strife with them, he did little to restrain their evil deeds. Yet at times pity and shame would wake in him, and then he was perilous in his anger. In this way he lived to that year’s end, and through the need and hunger of winter, until Stirring came and then a fair spring.

Now in the woods south of Teiglin, as has been told, there were still some homesteads of Men, hardy and wary, though now few in number. Though they loved them not at all and pitied them little, they would in bitter winter put out such food as they could well spare where the Gaurwaith might find it; and so they hoped to avoid the banded attack of the famished. But they earned less gratitude so from the outlaws than from beasts and birds, and they were saved rather by their dogs and their fences. For each homestead had great hedges about its cleared land, and about the houses was a ditch and a stockade; and there were paths from stead to stead, and men could summon help and need by horn-calls.

But when spring was come it was perilous for the Gaurwaith to linger so near to the houses of the Woodmen, who might gather and hunt them down; and Túrin wondered therefore that Forweg did not lead them away. There was more food and game, and less peril, away South where no Men remained. Then one day Túrin missed Forweg, and also Andróg his friend; and he asked where they were, but his companions laughed.

‘Away on business of their own, I guess,’ said Ulrad. ‘They will be back before long, and then we shall move. In haste, maybe; for we shall be lucky if they do not bring the hive-bees after them.’

The sun shone and the young leaves were green; and Túrin was irked by the squalid camp of the outlaws, and he wandered away alone far into the forest. Against his will he remembered the Hidden Kingdom, and he seemed to hear the names of the flowers of Doriath as echoes of an old tongue almost forgotten. But on a sudden he heard cries, and from a hazel-thicket a young woman ran out; her clothes were rent by thorns, and she was in great fear, and stumbling she fell gasping to the ground. Then Túrin springing towards the thicket with drawn sword hewed down a man that burst from the hazels in pursuit; and he saw only in the very stroke that it was Forweg.

But as he stood looking down in amaze at the blood upon the grass, Andróg came out, and halted also astounded. ‘Evil work, Neithan!’ he cried, and drew his sword; but Túrin’s mood ran cold, and he said to Andróg: ‘Where are the Orcs, then? Have you outrun them to help her?’

‘Orcs?’ said Andróg. ‘Fool! You call yourself an outlaw. Outlaws know no law but their needs. Look to your own, Neithan, and leave us to mind ours.’

‘I will do so,’ said Túrin. ‘But today our paths have crossed. You will leave the woman to me, or you will join Forweg.’

Andróg laughed. ‘If that is the way of it, have your will,’ he said. ‘I make no claim to match you, alone; but our fellows may take this slaying ill.’

Then the woman rose to her feet and laid her hand on Túrin’s arm. She looked at the blood and she looked at Túrin, and there was delight in her eyes. ‘Kill him, lord!’ she said. ‘Kill him too! And then come with me. If you bring their heads, Larnach my father will not be displeased. For two “wolf-heads” he has rewarded men well.’

But Túrin said to Andróg: ‘Is it far to her home?’

‘A mile or so,’ he answered, ‘in a fenced homestead yonder. She was straying outside.’

‘Go then quickly,’ said Túrin, turning back to the woman. ‘Tell your father to keep you better. But I will not cut off the heads of my fellows to buy his favour, or aught else.’

Then he put up his sword. ‘Come!’ he said to Andróg. ‘We will return. But if you wish to bury your captain, you must do so yourself. Make haste, for a hue and cry may be raised. Bring his weapons!’

Then Túrin went on his way without more words, and Andróg watched him go, and he frowned as one pondering a riddle.

When Túrin came back to the camp of the outlaws he found them restless and ill at ease; for they had stayed too long already in one place, near to homesteads well-guarded, and they murmured against Forweg. ‘He runs hazards to our cost,’ they said; ‘and others may have to pay for his pleasures.’

‘Then choose a new captain!’ said Túrin, standing before them. ‘Forweg can lead you no longer; for he is dead.’

‘How do you know that?’ said Ulrad. ‘Did you seek honey from the same hive? Did the bees sting him?’

‘No,’ said Túrin. ‘One sting was enough. I slew him. But I spared Andróg, and he will soon return.’ Then he told all that was done, rebuking those that did such deeds; and while he yet spoke Andróg returned bearing Forweg’s weapons. ‘See, Neithan!’ he cried. ‘No alarm has been raised. Maybe she hopes to meet you again.’

‘If you jest with me,’ said Túrin, ‘I shall regret that I grudged her your head. Now tell your tale, and be brief.’

Then Andróg told truly enough all that had befallen. ‘What business Neithan had there I now wonder,’ he said. ‘Not ours, it seems. For when I came up, he had already slain Forweg. The woman liked that well, and offered to go with him, begging our heads as a bride-price. But he did not want her, and sped her off; so what grudge he had against the captain I cannot guess. He left my head on my shoulders, for which I am grateful, though much puzzled.’

‘Then I deny your claim to come of the People of Hador,’ said Túrin. ‘To Uldor the Accursed you belong rather, and should seek service with Angband. But hear me now!’ he cried to them all. ‘These choices I give you. You must take me as your captain in Forweg’s place, or else let me go. I will govern this fellowship now, or leave it. But if you wish to kill me, set to! I will fight you all until I am dead – or you.’

Then many men seized their weapons, but Andróg cried out: ‘Nay! The head that he spared is not witless. If we fight, more than one will die needlessly, before we kill the best man among us.’ Then he laughed. ‘As it was when he joined us, so it is again. He kills to make room. If it proved well before, so may it again; and he may lead us to better fortune than prowling about other men’s middens.’

And old Algund said: ‘The best man among us. Time was when we would have done the same, if we dared; but we have forgotten much. He may bring us home in the end.’

At that the thought came to Túrin that from this small band he might rise to build himself a free lordship of his own. But he looked at Algund and Andróg, and he said: ‘Home, do you say? Tall and cold stand the Mountains of Shadow between. Behind them are the people of Uldor, and about them the legions of Angband. If such things do not daunt you, seven times seven men, then I may lead you homewards. But how far, before we die?’

All were silent. Then Túrin spoke again. ‘Do you take me to be your captain? Then I will lead you first away into the wild, far from the homes of Men. There we may find better fortune, or not; but at the least we shall earn less hatred of our own kind.’

Then all those that were of the People of Hador gathered to him, and took him as their captain; and the others with less good will agreed. And at once he led them away out of that country. 10

Many messengers had been sent out by Thingol to seek Túrin within Doriath and in the lands near its borders; but in the year of his flight they searched for him in vain, for none knew or could guess that he was with the outlaws and enemies of Men. When winter came on they returned to the king, save Beleg only. After all others had departed still he went on alone.

But in Dimbar and along the north-marches of Doriath things had gone ill. The Dragon-helm was seen there in battle no longer, and the Strongbow also was missed; and the servants of Morgoth were heartened and increased ever in numbers and in daring. Winter came and passed, and with Spring their assault was renewed: Dimbar was overrun, and the Men of Brethil were afraid, for evil roamed now upon all their borders, save in the south.

It was now almost a year since Túrin had fled, and still Beleg sought for him, with ever lessening hope. He passed northwards in his wanderings to the Crossings of Teiglin, and there, hearing ill news of a new inroad of Orcs out of Taur-nu-Fuin, he turned back, and came as it chanced to the homes of the Woodmen soon after Túrin had left that region. There he heard a strange tale that went among them. A tall and lordly Man, or an Elf-warrior, some said, had appeared in the woods, and had slain one of the Gaurwaith, and rescued the daughter of Larnach whom they were pursuing. ‘Very proud he was,’ said Larnach’s daughter to Beleg, ‘with bright eyes that scarcely deigned to look at me. Yet he called the Wolf-men his fellows, and would not slay another that stood by, and knew his name. Neithan, he called him.’

‘Can you read this riddle?’ asked Larnach of the Elf.

‘I can, alas,’ said Beleg. ‘The Man that you tell of is one whom I seek.’ No more of Túrin did he tell the Woodmen; but he warned them of evil gathering northwards. ‘Soon the Orcs will come ravening in this country in strength too great for you to withstand,’ he said. ‘This year at last you must give up your freedom or your lives. Go to Brethil while there is time!’

Then Beleg went on his way in haste, and sought for the lairs of the outlaws, and such signs as might show him whither they had gone. These he soon found; but Túrin was now several days ahead, and moved swiftly, fearing the pursuit of the Woodmen, and he used all the arts that he knew to defeat or mislead any that tried to follow them. Seldom did they remain two nights in one camp, and they left little trace of their going or staying. So it was that even Beleg hunted them in vain. Led by signs that he could read, or by the rumour of the passing of Men among the wild things with whom he could speak, he came often near, but always their lair was deserted when he came to it; for they kept a watch about them by day and night, and at any rumour of approach they were swiftly up and away. ‘Alas!’ he cried. ‘Too well did I teach this child of Men craft in wood and field! An Elvish band almost one might think this to be.’ But they for their part became aware that they were trailed by some tireless pursuer, whom they could not see, and yet could not shake off; and they grew uneasy. 11

Not long afterwards, as Beleg had feared, the Orcs came across the Brithiach, and being resisted with all the force that he could muster by Handir of Brethil they passed south over the Crossings of Teiglin in search of plunder. Many of the Woodmen had taken Beleg’s counsel and sent their women and children to ask for refuge in Brethil. These and their escort escaped, passing over the Crossings in time; but the armed men that came behind were met by the Orcs, and the men were worsted. A few fought their way through and came to Brethil, but many were slain or captured; and the Orcs passed on to the homesteads, and sacked them and burned them. Then at once they turned back westwards, seeking the Road, for they wished now to return North as swiftly as they could with their booty and their captives.

But the scouts of the outlaws were soon aware of them; and though they cared little enough for the captives, the plunder of the Woodmen aroused their greed. To Túrin it seemed perilous to reveal themselves to the Orcs, until their numbers were known; but the outlaws would not heed him, for they had need of many things in the wild, and already some began to regret his leading. Therefore taking one Orleg as his only companion Túrin went forth to spy upon the Orcs; and giving command of the band to Andróg he charged him to lie close and well hid while they were gone.

Now the Orc-host was far greater than the band of the outlaws, but they were in lands to which Orcs had seldom dared to come, and they knew also that beyond the Road lay the Talath Dirnen, the Guarded Plain, upon which the scouts and spies of Nargothrond kept watch; and fearing danger they were wary, and their scouts went creeping through the trees on either side of the marching lines. Thus it was that Túrin and Orleg were discovered, for three scouts stumbled upon them as they lay hid; and though they slew two the third escaped, crying as he ran Golug! Golug! Now that was a name which they had for the Noldor. At once the forest was filled with Orcs, scattering silently and hunting far and wide. Then Túrin, seeing that there was small hope of escape, thought at least to deceive them and to lead them away from the hiding-place of his men; and perceiving from the cry of Golug! that they feared the spies of Nargothrond, he fled with Orleg westward. The pursuit came swiftly after them, until turn and dodge as they would they were driven at last out of the forest; and then they were espied, and as they sought to cross the Road Orleg was shot down by many arrows. But Túrin was saved by his elven-mail, and escaped alone into the wilds beyond; and by speed and craft he eluded his enemies, fleeing far into lands that were strange to him. Then the Orcs, fearing that the Elves of Nargothrond might be aroused, slew their captives and made haste away into the North.

Now when three days had passed, and yet Túrin and Orleg did not return, some of the outlaws wished to depart from the cave where they lay hid; but Andróg spoke against it. And while they were in the midst of this debate, suddenly a grey figure stood before them. Beleg had found them at last. He came forward with no weapon in his hands, and held the palms turned towards them; but they leapt up in fear, and Andróg coming behind cast a noose over him, and drew it so that it pinioned his arms.

‘If you do not wish for guests, you should keep better watch,’ said Beleg. ‘Why do you welcome me thus? I come as a friend, and seek only a friend. Neithan I hear that you call him.’

‘He is not here,’ said Ulrad. ‘But unless you have long spied on us, how know you that name?’

‘He has long spied on us,’ said Andróg. ‘This is the shadow that has dogged us. Now perhaps we shall learn his true purpose.’ Then he bade them tie Beleg to a tree beside the cave; and when he was hard bound hand and foot they questioned him. But to all their questions Beleg would give one answer only: ‘A friend I have been to this Neithan since I first met him in the woods, and he was then but a child. I seek him only in love, and to bring him good tidings.’

‘Let us slay him, and be rid of his spying,’ said Andróg in wrath; and he looked on the great bow of Beleg and coveted it, for he was an archer. But some of better heart spoke against him, and Algund said to him: ‘The captain may return yet; and then you will rue it, if he learns that he has been robbed at once of a friend and of good tidings.’

‘I do not believe the tale of this Elf,’ said Andróg. ‘He is a spy of the King of Doriath. But if he has indeed any tidings, he shall tell them to us; and we shall judge if they give us reason to let him live.’

‘I shall wait for your captain,’ said Beleg.

‘You shall stand there until you speak,’ said Andróg.

Then at the egging of Andróg they left Beleg tied to the tree without food or water, and they sat near eating and drinking; but he said no more to them. When two days and nights had passed in this way they became angry and fearful, and were eager to be gone; and most were now ready to slay the Elf. As night drew down they were all gathered about him, and Ulrad brought a brand from the little fire that was lit in the cave-mouth. But at that moment Túrin returned. Coming silently, as was his custom, he stood in the shadows beyond the ring of men, and he saw the haggard face of Beleg in the light of the brand.

Then he was stricken as with a shaft, and as if at the sudden melting of a frost tears long unshed filled his eyes. He sprang out and ran to the tree. ‘Beleg! Beleg!’ he cried. ‘How have you come hither? And why do you stand so?’ At once he cut the bonds from his friend, and Beleg fell forward into his arms.

When Túrin heard all that the men would tell, he was angry and grieved; but at first he gave heed only to Beleg. While he tended him with what skill he had, he thought of his life in the woods, and his anger turned upon himself. For often strangers had been slain, when caught near the lairs of the outlaws, or waylaid by them, and he had not hindered it; and often he himself had spoken ill of King Thingol and of the Grey-elves, so that he must share the blame, if they were treated as foes. Then with bitterness he turned to the men. ‘You were cruel,’ he said, ‘and cruel without need. Never until now have we tormented a prisoner; but to such Orc-work such a life as we lead has brought us. Lawless and fruitless all our deeds have been, serving only ourselves, and feeding hate in our hearts.’

But Andróg said: ‘Whom shall we serve, if not ourselves? Whom shall we love, when all hate us?’

‘At least my hands shall not again be raised against Elves or Men,’ said Túrin. ‘Angband has servants enough. If others will not take this vow with me, I will walk alone.’

Then Beleg opened his eyes and raised his head. ‘Not alone!’ he said. ‘Now at last I can tell my tidings. You are no outlaw, and Neithan is a name unfit. Such fault as was found in you is pardoned. For a year you have been sought, to recall you to honour and to the service of the king. The Dragon-helm has been missed too long.’

But Túrin showed no joy in this news, and sat long in silence; for at Beleg’s words a shadow fell upon him again. ‘Let this night pass,’ he said at length. ‘Then I will choose. However it goes, we must leave this lair tomorrow; for not all who seek us wish us well.’

‘Nay, none,’ said Andróg, and he cast an evil look at Beleg.

In the morning Beleg, being swiftly healed of his pains, after the manner of the Elven-folk of old, spoke to Túrin apart.

‘I looked for more joy at my tidings,’ he said. ‘Surely you will return now to Doriath?’ And he begged Túrin to do this in all ways that he could; but the more he urged it, the more Túrin hung back. Nonetheless he questioned Beleg closely concerning the judgement of Thingol. Then Beleg told him all that he knew, and at the last Túrin said: ‘Then Mablung proved my friend, as he once seemed?’

‘The friend of truth, rather,’ said Beleg, ‘and that was best, in the end. But why, Túrin, did you not speak to him of Saeros’ assault upon you? All otherwise might things have gone. And,’ he said, looking at the men sprawled near the mouth of the cave, ‘you might have held your helm still high, and not fallen to this.’

‘That may be, if fall you call it,’ said Túrin. ‘That may be. But so it went; and words stuck in my throat. There was reproof in his eyes, without question asked of me, for a deed I had not done. My Man’s heart was proud, as the Elf-king said. And so it still is, Beleg Cúthalion. Not yet will it suffer me to go back to Menegroth and bear looks of pity and pardon, as for a wayward boy amended. I should give pardon, not receive it. And I am a boy no longer, but a man, according to my kind; and a hard man by my fate.’

Then Beleg was troubled. ‘What will you do, then?’ he asked.

‘Fare free,’ said Túrin. ‘That wish Mablung gave me at our parting. The grace of Thingol will not stretch to receive these companions of my fall, I think; but I will not part with them now, if they do not wish to part with me. I love them in my way, even the worst a little. They are of my own kind, and there is some good in each that might grow. I think that they will stand by me.’

‘You see with other eyes than mine,’ said Beleg. ‘If you try to wean them from evil, they will fail you. I doubt them, and one most of all.’

‘How shall an Elf judge of Men?’ said Túrin. ‘As he judges all deeds, by whomsoever done,’ answered Beleg, but he said no more, and did not speak of Andróg’s malice, to which his evil handling had been chiefly due; for perceiving Túrin’s mood he feared to be disbelieved and to hurt their old friendship, driving Túrin back to his evil ways.

‘Fare free, you say, Túrin, my friend,’ he said. ‘What is your meaning?’

‘I would lead my own men, and make war in my own way,’ Túrin answered. ‘But in this at least my heart is changed: I repent every stroke save those dealt against the Enemy of Men and Elves. And above all else I would have you beside me. Stay with me!’

‘If I stayed beside you, love would lead me, not wisdom,’ said Beleg. ‘My heart warns me that we should return to Doriath.’

‘Nonetheless, I will not go there,’ said Túrin.

Then Beleg strove once more to persuade him to return to the service of King Thingol, saying that there was great need of his strength and valour on the north-marches of Doriath, and he spoke to him of the new inroads of the Orcs, coming down into Dimbar out of Taur-nu-Fuin by the Pass of Anach. But all his words were of no avail, and at last he said: ‘A hard man you have called yourself, Túrin. Hard you are, and stubborn. Now the turn is mine. If you wish indeed to have the Strongbow beside you, look for me in Dimbar; for thither I shall return.’

Then Túrin sat in silence, and strove with his pride, which would not let him turn back; and he brooded on the years that lay behind him. But coming suddenly out of his thought he said to Beleg: ‘The elf-maiden whom you named: I owe her well for her timely witness; yet I cannot recall her. Why did she watch my ways?’

Then Beleg looked strangely at him. ‘Why indeed?’ he said. ‘Túrin, have you lived always with your heart and half your mind far away? You walked with Nellas in the woods of Doriath, when you were a boy.’

‘That was long ago,’ said Túrin. ‘Or so my childhood now seems, and a mist is over it – save only the memory of my father’s house in Dor-lómin. But why should I have walked with an elf-maiden?’

‘To learn what she could teach, maybe,’ said Beleg. ‘Alas, child of Men! There are other griefs in Middle-earth than yours, and wounds made by no weapon. Indeed, I begin to think that Elves and Men should not meet or meddle.’

Túrin said nothing, but looked long in Beleg’s face, as if he would read in it the riddle of his words. But Nellas of Doriath never saw him again, and his shadow passed from her. 12