[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The Sun brought no comfort to Ambarturion, for the dark thoughts of the night cast their shadow of concern about his heart still, and Caranbaith’s condition was no better. Coromswyth tried to comfort both master and student by pointing out that it was no worse – indeed, a remarkable think after the young Elf’s exertions of the day before. Megilaes was drawn and pale with concern and his eyes kept going back to his brother. Ambarturion had to snap at him several times to ensure that the watch was kept while he and Coromswyth readied themselves to leave. As on the day before, Caranbaith insisted that he was strong enough to walk, but Ambarturion would have none of it. “You said the same yesterday,” he barked, “and by noon you were unable to keep your feet. Today you shall be seek the help of your brother and the lady, for we must be over the River before the Sun is no more than a third of the way through her journey.” He hoped that none of them knew how difficult this would be. . .they were still too far from the safety of the far shore. For the first time he thought of turning South and returning to Lorien, but the knowledge that they were being hunted was too great. There were enemies approaching, and they would soon cross the River and seek to prevent their flight to the Green Wood. Should they try that route, they would find themselves encircled and in the open before nightfall. Their only hope was to make for the cover of Mirkwood with all the speed that they could.

“Come,” he said, helping Caranbaith to his feet. “We must hurry.” He looked at Coromswyth and felt the gentle pressure of her mind upon his own. He acknowledged his fears to her, but did not elaborate upon them – it was enough to know that they were in danger; she need not be burdened with the hopelessness of their situation.

They moved through the grass of the Vale as quickly as they could, with Ambarturion and Megilaes keeping to the front and scanning the horizon to the south-east. As they went they could both feel the presence of evil pressing in upon them from that direction, like the feel of a fire upon their foreheads when their eyes were closed. Ambarturion was tempted to seek shelter from the despair in his memories of Doriath. When his student had taken the watch last night he had sought that same refuge, walking through the protected realm that had lain within Melian’s Girdle, and hearing again the song of Luthien before her betrayal with Beren. Even as he walked in the light of the day once more, feeling the growing terror of the land all about them, his feet were once more drawn to follow the paths of his youth, and he could feel upon his cheek the light touch of leaves that never fell, and the scent of flowers now long vanished beneath the waves filled his nostrils.

It was Megilaes’s sudden cry that awoke him to the grey horrors of the present. His student had stopped dead in his tracks and was staring away to the south-east. Ambarturion followed his gaze and saw afar off, upon the very edge of the horizon, a black smudge upon the land. As he gazed at the stain, it resolved into the shapes of two or three score orcs and Men, racing across the Vale and directly toward them. How the servants of the Enemy had found them he did not know, but he did not have the time to ponder this. They had forded the River and were upon the western bank. Had Caranbaith been in good health, there might have remained yet the possibility of escape, for as tireless as orcs and evil Men might be, the Elves of Lorien were yet fleeter of foot. But Caranbaith was in no condition to run, and Megilaes would never leave his brother to the torments of the beasts that now approached. Nor would Ambarturion.

He turned to Coromswyth. “My lady,” he began. “My students and I will not flee before the enemy, but there is no need for you to die at their hands. It would be best if Lorien knew of this incursion. If you leave us immediately and run but a little west of south you may reach the Golden Wood ahead of the orcs. If we are lucky, they might even dispatch some of their number to pursue you, and we three might be enough to defeat those who remain, and you can escape your pursuers in Lorien.” He knew that his plan was almost entirely hopeless. But even more hopeless was the idea that Coromswyth would abandon her companions, particularly Caranbaith.

Marvellously, the lady smiled when she spoke. “No, Ambarturion,” she said. “I will not flee. There is little hope that I could escape the enemy, and that would only deprive you of another sword when they come upon you. Let us seek a defensible place to prepare for the attack.”

Ambarturion was surprised and greatly impressed by this response, but he was careful to control his reaction, saying only, “I see, my lady, that you come of warrior blood yourself. Come! If I remember these lands aright, there is a small hill not a mile from here. It is neither so high nor so well protected as the hill we held against the goblins of Moria, but it is steep and the land about it is clear. We can at least use the advantage of height to fell some of our attackers with our bows before they are upon us.” Coromswyth nodded, and Ambarturion called for his students to follow. They ran almost due north until the saw the hill before them. It was indeed not very high, but it rose steeply beneath their feet. While it presented no challenge to the Elves, the orcs would be hard pressed to scale its sides at full speed. When they reached the summit they turned about and looked out across the Vale of Anduin toward the black stain of their enemies. They were shocked by how much closer the orcs and evil Men had come in so short a time.

They readied their bows in silence, for there was nothing to say. All they could do was wait.