THE LONELY STAR (Contd. from BD birthday party)

[Child of the 7th Age]

The assembly of hobbits, prodded on by their captors, stumbled towards the north and east. For Nitir, that endless night of sorrow was never to be forgotten. The earth itself, for leagues around, lay marred and destroyed. There were no glasslike mountain slopes or smooth valleys of soft grass. Wherever she and Azra gazed, there were only craters dug deep into the earth and huge blocks of soil heaved upward to rest on their side, leaving awkward and barren mounds. The trampling feet of Morgoth's 10,000 troops, approaching from the north with their giant dragons and balrogs and spreading fires, had changed the landscape beyond recognition.

Because the path was difficult and strewn with debris, many of the old and young could not keep up. Babes were carried by mothers, and small children hoisted upon strong backs. Yet, even with family members struggling to help each other, only so much could be done.

Many of the elderly urged their kin to leave them and hurry to the front to make certain the children of the family would not be left behind. Some of these families would remain straggling near the rear until the old ones, who could go on no further, slipped silently down by the side of the path. Then the Orcs would come from behind to finish the job with spears, and toss the bodies over the edge of the cliffs. A few times, when family members tried to cradle or guard the fallen, they were also threatened with death. So, while few hobbits died in the actual siege of Gondolin, the story on this wretched trail was a very different one.

After hours of tortuous progress, the hobbits found themselves on a rocky but flat ledge, surrounded by a large stand of pine trees. The Orc guards halted. They drew their lines totally around the prisoners and pulled the circle ever tighter, herding them together into as small a group as possible. Then they went through the prisoners one-by-one with rough hands, searching for any weapons that had been overlooked. They made a great pile of whatever they found, taking some for their own use, and destroying or hurling away the rest. The fires burned high on the ledge.

Then they went to talk among themselves.

They spoke in the common Adunaic tongue, since there were apparently three or four tribes present, and they could not understand each other's orc-speech. The hobbits closest to the guards could hear and understand their words.

One voice was raised in complaint, "What am I? A nursemaid for children and old ones? Let us get rid of these. What could Morgoth want with such puny things?"

Other voices growled agreement as weapons were again raised. One Orc began to stride over and lay hands on the nearest young boy but was stopped by a rough jerk on his shoulder.

"You swine, do you not understand our orders? If the old ones fall, have your sport with them. But the children are not to be touched. These creatures are fool enough to give up their own lives for the stupid, small ones."

The one who said this was the commander Durshnakh. He was a crooked-legged creature, but tall and with long grasping arms. There was stench from his body and mouth.

"We will keep these useless little ones," sneered the evil Durshnakh, "to control the men and their women. For the great lord Morgoth has said they will give us no trouble if we threaten them with the death of their own ."

Another Orc shouted back, "What need do we have to control these pipsqueaks? One stroke of my sword will send them all to where they belong."

Durshnakh ran to this fellow and grabbed him by the collar, "Say no more! We have orders that they will be used to fell the great forests of Dorthonion and turn the lands into fields to feed our troops. They have some small skill in this way. The Dark Lord will use it."

There was cursing and confusion, but the noise quickly died down. Durshnakh stood in front of the prisoners. He hauled one boy up to the front, and put a cold blade to his throat. Then he turned to the hobbits, "You tender fools," he hissed. "We have your children in our command." He twisted the blade into the boy's throat so that a single drop of blood trickled down.

"If you want these to see the light of day, do as we say. Do not think to escape or fight back. We will flay the skin off the backs of these little ones if you go against us. You will live, but they will die, and you will see their death."

Then he continued, "Put all other thoughts out of your head except work. Work for the lord Morgoth, and he will let you live."

There was no sound among the group of hobbits. No one said yes or no, but all hung their heads in silence.

Yet, a few of their number, and Zira was among these, had somehow managed to retain a dagger in some hidden place. For beneath the clothes of Abar, and even in the clothing of some of the other young ones, was tucked away more than one small weapon. For the Orcs did not even want to touch with their hands the bodies of the children, and they left them for the most part alone, desiring only to run swords through their hearts. So they never dreamed what actually lay beheath some of these squalling bundles.

Then all the hobbits dropped down on the rocky ledge, crammed one against the other. And Nitir held Azra's body tight against her own, and fell into a troubled sleep.

[ August 11, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]