the story of beren and lúthien ~ finished by geoff zeiger
XVI
Then Thingol sent at break of day
to East where the gorge of Aglon lay
his vassal Mablung Heavy Hand 4690
with a strong and hardy band
of mighty Elves that might win through
the spies of Angband, thick as dew
on cloudy morn when warm winds cease,
an embassy to sue for peace 4695
with brothers five of Curufin
and Celegorm, whose words might win
release of Lúthien from her cell
who might thence return to dwell
in her father's house in Doriath, 4700
but not so far wound Mablung's path.
Had that message reached the ears
of Maedhros, deeds of after years
might otherwise have been, and tears
averted, though perhaps the oath 4705
by Beren's quest awakened both
the realms of Maedhros' mighty kin
had set against Esgalduin.
But now on Mablung's band there fell
the ruin of that hound of hell, 4710
dread Carcharoth, whom Red Maw name
the songs of Elves; before they came
beyond the edge of Melian's wood
in tripled ranks the Elf-band stood.
Battle there is beneath the trees, 4715
bitter and swift, but no Elf flees.
There left their lives that grey-clad band
save one alone: the Heavy Hand,
who hastened back to warn the king
of Morgoth's foul and demon thing 4720
that roamed the woods of Doriath
and slew all those found in its path.
Through meadow and through forest glade,
through vine-choked thickets drenched in shade,
o'er streams and roots in twisted maze 4725
he fled the wolf down secret ways.
Neath sun and moon still gripped by fright
no halt he made by day or night
until at Thingol's door he stood,
alone escaping from the wood. 4730
There to king and court was told
his tale of anguish – how the bold
and mighty Elves who once set forth
were slain by guile of the North.
Since Beren took his leave of them 4735
to seek for Fëanor's peerless gem
had Thingol laid on him a curse,
believing him a spy, or worse,
to the Thousand Caves no more to fare
nor Doriath's roads again to dare 4740
on pain of death. No whispered word
of Melian's mercy yet he heard
but anxious sat with hardened heart
to wait for tidings by her art
or by the skill of Mablung brave 4745
the news that might his daughter save,
relenting not till fateful day
brought Beren's long and winding way
to Doriath again at last
at eve of spring as daylight passed. 4750
An oath he swore in bitterness –
if ever back to Elfinesse
concealed in the forest fast
led Beren's way from war at last
on hidden paths that he had found 4755
without the hallowed gem renowned
his death should follow swift and true."
"My lord," said Melian, "thou shalt rue
this oath of pain in anger made.
Our daughter was taken into shade 4760
by force nor guile of Angband's lord.
Of that vast shadow long abhorred
Beren is no creeping spy
nor servant of Thû's lidless eye.
Love it was that bound him here; 4765
love of Lúthien, daughter dear,
and love that drew her after him,
even to Morgoth's dungeons grim."
"My oath is sworn in anger just,"
replied the king, "and Beren must, 4770
ere he returns to walk my land,
seek, and take, and hold in hand
the Silmaril I bade him bring
to lay before his lord and king.
Now must we arm for death and war. 4775
Alas! I fear that nevermore
shall Lúthien, that fairest maid,
return to us from halls of shade
in Morgoth's realm where she has strayed
beyond our power to lend her aid." 4780
Then at the king's command his folk
left their homes neath beech and oak
and gathered in to swift march forth
and meet the armies of the North
that soon must follow, fierce and fell, 4785
the vanguard of the host of hell.
Then opened wide the caverns' door
and entered there a wonder more
than all the armour gleaming bright
and gems that shone by torches' light: 4790
of all the Elves the maid most fair
in radiant splendour; perfume rare
dripped softly from enchanted cloak
and in each heart a memory woke
of fountains cool and flowers soft 4800
and song of birds that high aloft
brought joy and gladness to the land.
Beside her standing hand in hand
with ragged clothes and arm in sling
the mortal Beren who did bring 4805
to Thingol's realm such grief and pain
that never should be felt again.
Then all who stood round Thingol's chair
gazing on that storied pair
fell silent as the king strode forth. 4810
"Speak now, thou servant of the North!
Hast thou brought the Silmaril
as once thou swore to me, or will
thy life be forfeit? 'Twould be just
were you emprisoned till to dust 4815
your bones were crumbled – all my land
now feels the weight of Morgoth's hand.
One alone has here me sought
and finding, then, his freedom bought.
You, then, must it be who told 4820
this secret to our foe of old,
and brings the great wolf here to slay
my people on this fearful day."
Then raised the guard their arms on high
that Beren, at a word, might die. 4825
Before his doom there Beren stood
and faced the king of rock and wood:
"My lord, when last I left this hall,
I solemn swore an oath to all
that rocks nor steel nor Morgoth's fire 4830
should keep me from my sweet desire.
I swore to seek the jewels bright
of Fëanor, and with the light
of one at least within my hand,
then again to walk your land. 4835
Behold! my quest is now fulfilled.
The gem I sought as you had willed."
His left hand now he opened wide;
a murmur in the hall, a tide
of anger grew that mortal dared 4840
defy the king; that he had fared
to Doriath with broken oath
to stand before their court – then both
his arms he lifted – one hand only
had he. Then in silence lonely 4845
began his tale, and all revealed:
how Huan had from prison sealed
released fair Lúthien and led
her North to where the wolves had fed
on his companions, and of Thû 4850
and faithful Felagund the true.
All the tale was swift recounted –
how Lúthien had Huan mounted
to ride in search when Beren left
her in her father's woods, bereft 4855
of hope, until she found him fey
upon the Northland's borders grey;
how then disguised in fell and wing
they entered Angband, there to sing
with elvish craft and subtle skill 4860
in which was drowned the mighty will
of Morgoth; how the jewel they stole
but trapped by Carcharoth the whole
of the hopeless quest again seemed lost;
how all the lands they swift had crossed 4865
upon the Eagles' backs, and few
could doubt these words, for all was true,
as Lúthien said, and Huan fleet
there laid his head at Beren's feet.
'Twas known to all he never gave 4870
such blessing to a master, save
to Lúthien in Nargothrond,
emprisoned there all hope beyond,
and Huan on the mortal shore
bespoke the gods in Valinor. 4875
The truth may humble even kings
as clear within the heart it rings –
so Thingol now spared Beren's life,
embraced him, and forgot their strife.
"Now my blessing thou hast earned 4880
in Morgoth's realm where fires burned
and hope seemed lost of skies above
but for undying selfless love.
I thought my daughter mad, a spell
on her to capture and compel 4885
her mind, and thou a Northern spy.
Now be it known that it was I
whose mind entrapped by groundless fear
in jealousy for daughter dear
her hopes by carelessness betrayed 4890
with foolish quest I on thee laid,
and Dairon's loss I blamed on thee,
but thou art blameless now I see."
Then Lúthien before the throne
took Beren's hand within her own – 4895
there each to each they plighted troth
and king and court did honour both
with joy and song and with fair words
in Thingol's halls where trilled the birds
of Melian. Yet heavy lay 4900
as nightfall smothers fading day,
the woeful news of Mablung bold
and tale of horrors Beren told.
Thus the secret there was learned –
how Carcharoth by magic burned 4905
had come upon the woodland Elves
and all now murmured to themselves
that war indeed was not at hand;
one wolf alone now stalked the land.
They cast aside their armour fair 4910
and swords and axes gathered there
and armed for hunt with spear and bow
and barking hounds that host did go
with Huan leading, hound of war
that gods unleashed in Valinor. 4915
His foe he smelled when all tracks failed
and through the woods the wolf they trailed
o'er streams and fens and hillsides steep
until, beside a marshland deep,
where gathered all the waters grey 4920
in brake of cane the wolf to bay
still snarling fierce at last was brought.
As night descended there was fought
a battle sudden; on the king,
as elvish harpers often sing, 4925
there leapt the wolf, and Beren sprang
to his defence, and loudly rang
great Huan's baying. Deadly darts
by practiced skill and cunning arts
now found the wolf, who maddened tore 4930
at Huan who had crouched before
his master, his own life to give
that perchance Beren might yet live
at last to wed fair Lúthien
beyond all hopes of mortal Men. 4935
But naught availed to stop the rush
of maddened wolf through reed and brush
that dart nor spear could turn aside,
with rending jaws that gaping wide
with countless venomed teeth were filled 4940
and snapping now would not be stilled.
He crouched and leapt on Beren's chest
with flashing teeth to tear his breast.
To Beren falling, swooning, dying
the king then stooped, and careful lying 4945
fallen hero on the grass
no more paid heed to what should pass
tween Carcharoth and Huan fey
who saw the doom that on him lay.
Ere that battle much renown 4950
had Huan won in war, and down
through many lonesome years and long
his tale was told in elvish song,
but all his deeds of might and skill
in mortal lands seemed pale and chill 4955
beside his fate declared to all,
before the mightiest wolf to fall.
Great was that battle of wolf and hound
at water's edge. With leap and bound
they circled watching for a hold, 4960
and through the woods the echoes rolled
of wolvish howl that Morgoth's hate
and malice filled, and leaguer strait,
more cruel than any trap of steel
or dungeons where his captives reel 4965
in pain and torment – as had Thû
once sung to Beren till darkness grew
within his mind, and visions cast
of deeds of Elfland's sorrows past,
so now that host within their hearts 4970
felt creep deceit of Morgoth's arts
and Fëanor's oath they saw fulfilled
in war of Elf with Elf, and chilled
the air now felt, though spring was come,
and helpless each stood stricken dumb. 4975
Sudden in answer Huan bayed
and Carcharoth's fell visions stayed,
for in his voice the Valar's wrath
now kindled rang down forest path,
and Tavros' mighty horns were heard, 4980
a stirring sound that after word
nor song could ever fully tell,
a note to drown the voice of hell.
Long they feinted, circling near,
so close that Thingol's archers fear 4985
their shafts to loose lest friend they strike,
but ringed them round with sword and pike.
Many dreadful wounds they made
with snapping teeth, but no hold laid
upon the other, till at last 4990
when red the sky as daylight passed
Huan caught at wolvish coat
and sank his jaws into its throat.
They crashed to earth, and quick as thought
there flashed the elvish spears which sought 4995
the wolf, and pierced his limbs and chest,
as sank the sun into the West.
Once more in Huan words awoke,
and to Beren thus he spoke
with voice alike to deep-toned bells 5000
that ring in Valmar's citadels:
"Farewell my master, Beren bold.
My strength is spent; my limbs are cold.
The Northern threat a while is stilled,
but my own doom at last fulfilled, 5005
for in my veins the poison flows
of hatred and of mortal woes,
and now I go to Valinor
to rest and hunt, forsaking war,
to follow chase with my old lord, 5010
Oromë, by hounds adored.
The deeds of this day long shall be
recalled in song and memory
in Lands of Ease where now I go
and here on earth in rain and snow 5015
and sun. My vision now in truth
grows dim, and for the hunts of youth
my heart now yearns."
Then silence fell
and Beren bade him fond farewell
with hand upon his head; no strength 5020
he found for words, and there at length
the rasping breath of Huan ceased
and all the Elves from most to least
wept, for there at Thingol's feet
grim Beren lay, and Huan fleet, 5025
and others of the elvish host
who no more would return to boast
in many-pillared halls of stone
in Menegroth where now alone
there watched and waited Lúthien, 5030
more fair than any child of Men,
and sweetly sang the nightingales.
But song and laughter sudden fails
as Huan's spirit seeks the shore
where the Shadowy Seas' last surges roar 5035
and on her heart a shadow crept
foreboding Beren's doom that slept
now but a little while, though dim
as yet her vision was of him.
Esgalduin the faëry stream 5040
flowed dark and strong as in a dream
beside the field where Beren fell
defending Thingol in the dell.
Carcharoth lay upon the sand
and Beren called the Heavy Hand 5045
and bade him take his keen-edged knife
that in war had drunk the life
of many foes and from the gut
of Carcharoth the gem to cut.
This Mablung did, and there was seen 5050
the fiery jewel's holy sheen
through Beren's fingers that yet clenched
the Silmaril whose light unquenched
glowed pure as once the shining Trees
had lit with mirth the Lands of Ease. 5055
Long miles though his path had wound,
his right hand thus once more was found
still incorrupt, though in the vile
and muddied pool of wolvish bile
naught else survived. The jewel's light 5060
cast back the dark and banished night
and brightly blazed it forth anew
the hand with magic to imbue,
for as the gentlest finger laid
upon it were it as unmade – 5065
no bit of bone nor wisp of smoke
was there; through flesh the radiance broke
and reflected after in the face
of all who stood about that place,
the purest light Yavanna made 5070
ere all the world was drowned in shade.
In Beren's hand then Mablung set
the Silmaril which kindled yet
to brighter flame. At last the quest
begun at Thingol's bitter jest 5075
was won as to the king's hand passed
the gem of Fëanor, and vast
the silence grew about that pair;
all thoughts were turned to Lúthien fair
as Thingol held the quest achieved 5080
before his people who believed
no might nor art of Elfinesse
nor even of the utter West
could yet avail o'er Angband's lord
to wrest his treasures from his hoard. 5085
But Beren lay beyond all aid –
his hurt was mortal, and he made
but one request: that ere he died
he might be brought where the dark tide
of the faëry stream flowed deep and strong 5090
past Menegroth where shadows long
fell all about the jewel he won
more fair than moon or stars or sun;
through rocks and steel and Morgoth's fire
to see once more his sweet desire 5095
ere to Mandos he was hurled
to leave the Circles of the World.
Then he declared that all he sought
was won, and lost, his doom full-wrought.
Of beechen leaves they wove a bier 5100
to carry Beren swift as fear
might drive them from that place of death.
Of moon no light, of wind no breath
intruded where that party passed
and o'er Esgalduin at last 5105
they crossed the bridge to find the shore
where stood King Thingol's mighty door.
There Lúthien waited, and she came,
in sorrow like a dancing flame
that all devours what it desires 5110
and all devoured then expires.
Embracing him, she bade him wait
for her until the chains of Fate
them joined once more in Mandos' realm
beyond the lands of oak and elm. 5115
He saw in Lúthien's eyes a sight
of starlight burning without night
in skies unclouded, and of dreams
whose beauty through all trials gleams
unlooked-for ever, and of hopes 5120
that frail as a rose-bud opes
and as the day wears on may fade
neath weight of cares upon them laid,
yet all-enduring may avail.
But gazing on her words him fail; 5125
his head was cradled to her breast
when he at last was called to rest.
A final kiss upon his eyes
she placed, and then her true love dies.