Chapter Ten
Then should they seek a high place whence they might see something of the deeds yet in safety and secrecy, while the warriors crept upon the worm to slay it. Now of this high place a woodsman told, and often had he gazed therefrom upon the dwelling of the worm afar. At length was that band of dragon- slayers got ready, and they were mounted upon goodly horses swift and sure-going, albeit few of those beasts were possessed by the folk of the woods. Horses too were found for Nienori and for Mavwin, and they rode at the head of the warriors, and folk marvelled much to see their bearing, for the men of Urin and those amongst whom Nienori was nurtured were much upon horses, and both knave and maid among them rode even in tender years. After many days' going came now that cavalcade within view of a place that once had been a fair region, and through it a swift river ran over a rocky bed, and of one side was the brink of it high and tree-grown and of the other the land was more level and fertile and broad-swelling, but beyond the high bank of the river the hills drew close.
Thither as they looked they saw that the land had become all barren and was blasted for a great distance about the ancient caverns of the Rodothlim, and the trees were crushed to the earth or snapped. Toward the hills a black heath stretched and the lands were scored with the great slots that that loathly worm made in his creeping. Many are the dragons that Melko has loosed upon the world and some are more mighty than others. Now the least mighty -- yet were they very great beside the Men of those days -- are cold as is the nature of snakes and serpents, and of them a many having wings go with the uttermost noise and speed; but the mightier are hot and very heavy and slow-going, and some belch flame, and fire flickereth beneath their scales, and the lust and greed and cunning evil of these is the greatest of all creatures: and such was the Foaloke whose burning there set all the places of his habitation in waste and desolation. Already greater far had this worm waxen than in the days of the onslaught upon the Rodothlim, and greater too was his hoarded treasure, for Men and Elves and even Orcs he slew, or enthralled that they served him, bringing him food to slake his lust [? on] precious things, and spoils of their harryings to swell his hoard.
Now was that band aghast as they looked upon that region from afar, yet they prepared them for battle, and drawing lots sent one of their number with Nienori and Mavwin to that high place" upon the confines of the withered land that had been named, and it was covered with trees, and might be reached by hidden paths. Even as those three rode thither and the warriors crept stealthily toward the caves, leaving their horses that were already in a sweat of fear, behold the Foaloke came from his lair, and sliding down the bank lay across the stream, as often was his wont. Straightway great fog and steams leapt up and a stench was mingled therein, so that that band was whelmed in vapours and well-nigh stifled, and they crying to one another in the mist displayed their presence to the worm; and he laughed aloud. At that most awful of all sounds of beasts they fled wildly in the mists, and yet they could not discover their horses, for these in an extremity of terror broke loose and fled. Then Nienori hearing far cries and seeing the great mist roll toward them from the river turned back with her mother to the place of sundering, and there alighting waited in great doubt.
Suddenly came that blind mist upon them as they stood, and with it came flying madly the dim horses of the huntsmen. Then their own catching their terror trampled to death that Elf who was their escort as he caught at the flying bridles, and wild with fear they sped to the dark woods and never more bore Man or Elf upon their saddles; but Mavwin and Nienori were left alone and succourless upon the borders of the places of fear. Very perilous indeed was their estate, and long they groped in the mist and knew not where they were nor saw they ever any of the band again, and only pale voices seemed to pass them by afar crying out as in dread, and then all was silent. Now did they cling together and being weary stumbled on heedless whither their steps might go, till on a sudden the sun gleamed thin above them, and hope returned to them; and behold the mists lifted and the airs became clearer and they stood not far from the river. Even now it smoked as it were hot, and behold the Foaloke lay there and his eyes were upon them. No word did he speak nor did he move, but his baleful eye held their gaze until the strength seemed to leave their knees and their minds grew dim. Then did Nienori drag herself by a might of will from that influence for a while, and "Behold," she cried, "0 serpent of Melko, what wilt thou with us -- be swift to say or do, for know that we seek not thee nor thy gold but one Turin who dwelt here upon a time. " Then said the drake, and the earth quaked at him: "Thou liest -- glad had ye been at my death, and glad thy band of cravens who now flee gibbering in the woods might they have despoiled me.
Fools and liars, liars and cravens, how shall ye slay or despoil Glorund the Foaloke, who ere his power had waxen slew the hosts of the Rodothlim and Orodreth their lord, devouring all his folk. ". "Yet perchance," said Nienori, "one Turin got him from that fray and dwells still here beneath thy bonds, an he has not escaped thee and is now far hence," and this she said at a venture, hoping against hope, but said the evil one: "Lo! the names of all who dwelt here before the taking of the caves of my wisdom I know, and I say to thee that none who named himself Turin went hence alive. " And even so was Turin's boast subtly turned against him, for these beasts love ever to speak thus, doubly playing with cunning words. "Then was Turin slain in this evil place," said Mavwin, but the dragon answered: "Here did the name of Turin fade for ever from the earth -- but weep not, woman, for it was the name of a craven that betrayed his friends. "
"Foul beast, cease thy evil sayings," said Mavwin; "slayer of my son, revile not the dead, lest thine own bane come upon thee. " "Less proud must be thy words, O Mavwin, an thou wilt escape torment or thy daughter with thee," did that drake answer, but Mavwin cried: "0 most accursed, lo! I fear thee not. Take me an thou wilt to thy torments and thy bondage, for of a truth I desired thy death, but suffer only Nienori my daughter to go back to the dwellings of Men: for she came hither constrained by me, and knowing not the purposes of our journey. " "Seek not to cajole me, woman," sneered that evil one. "Liever would I keep thy daughter and slay thee or send thee back to thy hovels, but I have need of neither of you. " With those words he opened full his evil eyes, arid a light shone in them, and Mavwin and Nienori quaked beneath them and a swoon came upon their minds, and them seemed that they groped in endless tunnels of darkness, and there they found not one another ever again, and calling only vain echoes answered and there was no glimmer of light. When however after a time that she remembered not the black- ness left the mind of Nienori, behold the river and the withered places of the Foaloke were no more about her, but the deep woodlands, and it was dusk. Now she seemed to herself to awake from dreams of horror nor could she recall them, but their dread hung dark behind her mind, and her memory of all past things was dimmed. So for a long while she strayed lost in the woods, and haply the spell alone kept life in her, for she hungered bitterly and was athirst, and by fortune it was summer, for her garments became torn and her feet unshod and weary, and often she wept, and she went she knew not whither.
Now on a time in an opening in the wood she descried a campment as it were of Men, and creeping nigh by reason of hunger to espy it she saw that they were creatures of a squat and unlovely stature that dwelt there, and most evil faces had they, and their voices and their laughter was as the clash of stone and metal. Armed they were with curved swords and bows of horn, and she was possessed with fear as she looked upon them, although she knew not that they were Orcs, for never had she seen those evil ones before. Now did she turn and flee, but was espied, and one let fly a shaft at her that quivered suddenly in a tree beside her as she ran, and others seeing that it was a woman young and fair gave chase whooping and calling hideously.
Now Nienori ran as best she might for the density of the wood, but soon was she spent and capture and dread thraldom was very near, when one came crashing through the woods as though in answer to her lamentable cries. Wild an
d black was his hair yet streaked with grey, and his face was pale and marked as with deep sorrows of the past, and in his hand he bare a great sword whereof all but the very edge was black. Therewith he leapt against the following Orcs and hewed them, and they soon fled, being taken aback, and though some shot arrows at random amidst the trees they did little scathe, and five of them were slain. Then sat Nienori upon a stone and for weariness and the lessened strain of fear sobs shook her and she could not speak; but her rescuer stood beside her awhile and marvelled at her fairness and that she wandered thus lonely in the woods, and at length he said: "0 sweet maiden of the woods, whence comest thou, and what may be thy name?" "Nay, these things I know not," said she.
"Yet methinks I stray very far from my home and folk, and many very evil things have fallen upon me in the way, whereof nought but a cloud hangs upon my memory -- nay, whence I am or whither I go I know not" -- and she wept a fresh, but that man spake, saying:" Then behold, I will call thee Niniel, or little one of tears," and thereat she raised her face towards his, and it was very sweet though marred with weeping, and she said with a look of wonderment:" Nay, not Niniel, not Niniel. " Yet more might she not remember, and her face filled with distress, so that she cried: "Nay, who art thou, warrior of the woods; why troublest thou me?" "Turambar am I called," said he, "and no home nor kindred have I nor any past to think on, but I wander for ever," and again at that name that maiden's wonder stirred. "Now," said Turambar, "dry thy tears, 0 Niniel, for thou hast come upon such safety as these words afford.
Lo, one am I now of a small folk of the forest, and a sweet dwelling in a clearing have we far from hence, but today as thy fortune would we fared a-hunting, -- aye, and Orc-harrying too, for we are hard put to it to fend those evil ones from our homes. " Then did Niniel ( for thus Turambar called her ever, and she learnt to call it her name) fare away with him to his comrades, and they asking little got them upon horses, and Turambar set Niniel before him, and thus they fared as swift as they might from the danger of the Orcs. Now at the time of the affray of Turambar with the pursuing Orcs was half the day already spent, yet were they already leagues upon their way ere they dismounted once more, and it was then early night. Already at the sunset had it seemed to Niniel that the woods were lighter and less gloomy and the air less evil-laden than behind. Now did they make a camp in a glade and the stars shone clear above where the tree-roof was thin, but Niniel lay a little apart and they gave her many fells to keep her from the night chills, and thus she slept more softly than for many a night and the breezes kissed her face, but Turambar told his comrades of the meeting in the wood and they wondered who she might be or how she came wandering thither as one under a spell of blind forgetfulness.
Next day again they pressed on and so for many journeys more beside until at length weary and fain for rest they came one noon to a woodland stream, and this they followed for some way until, behold, they came to a place where it might be forded by reason of its shallowness and of the rocks that stood up in its course; but on their right it dived in a great fall and fell into a chasm, and Turambar pointing said: Mathusdor; at the fourth, Aryador > Mathusdor > Dor Lomin. Mithrim
Falasquil At both occurrences (p. 152) in Tuor A this replaces the original name now illegible but beginning with Q; in Tuor B my mother left blanks and added the name later in pencil; in Tuor C blanks are left in the typescript and not filled in. Arlisgion This name was added later to Tuor B. Orcs Tuor A and 8 had Orqui throughout; my father emended this in Tuor B to Orcs, but not consistently, and in the later part of the tale not at all. In one place only (p. 193, in Thorndor's speech) both texts have Orcs (also Orc-bands p. 195). As with the name Tuor/Tur I give throughout the form that was to prevail. At the only occurrence of the singular the word is written with a k in both Tuor A and 8 ('Ork's blood', p. 165). Car Thurion
Taniquetil At the occurrence on p. 161 there was added in the original text of Tuor A: (Danigwiel), but this was struck out. Kor Against this name (p. 161) is pencilled in Tuor B: Tun. See I. 222, II. 292. Car Ainion Banthil in Tuor B. Cristhorn From the first occurrence on p. 189 written Cristhorn (not Cris Thorn) in Tuor A; Cris Thorn Tuor B throughout. Bad Uthwen
These were changed to the forms given in the text, except Nineveh > Ninwe, changed to Ninwi in Tuor B. Commentary on The Fall of Condolin. $ 1. The primary narrative. As with the Tale of Turambar I break my commentary on this tale into sections. I refer frequently to the much later version (which extends only to the coming of Tuor and Voronwe to sight of Gondolin across the plain) printed in Unfinished Tales pp. 17 -- 5I ('Of Tuor and his Coming to Gondolin'); this I shall call here 'the later Tuor. '. (i) Tuor's journey to the Sea and the visitation of Ulmo (pp. 14g -- 56). In places the later Tuor (the abandonment of which is one of the saddest facts in the whole history of incompletion) is so close in wording to The Fall of Condolin, written more than thirty years before, as to make it almost certain that my father had it in front of him, or at least had recently reread it.
Striking examples from the late version (pp. 23 -- 4) are: 'The sun rose behind his back and set before his face, and where the water foamed among the boulders or rushed over sudden falls, at morning and evening rainbows were woven across the stream'; 'Now he said: "It is a fay-voice," now: "Nay, it is a small beast that is wailing in the waste"'; '[Tuor] wandered still for some days in a rugged country bare of trees; and it was swept by a wind from the sea, and all that grew there, herb or bush, leaned ever to the dawn because of the prevalence of that wind from the West' -- which are very closely similar to or almost identical with passages in the tale (pp. 150 -- 1). But the differences in the narrative are profound. Tuor's origin is left vague in the old story. There is a reference in the Tale of Turambar (p. 88) to 'those kindreds about the waters of Asgon whence after arose Tuor son of Peleg', but here it is said that Tuor did not dwell with his people (who 'wandered the forests and fells') but 'lived alone about that lake called Mithrim [
There is indeed scarcely any linking reference to other events, and of course no trace of the Grey-elves of Hithlum who in the later story fostered him, or of his outlawry and hunting by the Easterlings; but there are 'wandering Noldoli in Dor Lomin (Hisilome, Hithlum) -- on whom see p. 65 -- from whom Tuor learnt much, including their tongue, and it was they who guided him down the dark river-passage under the mountains. There is in this a premonition of Gelmir and Arminas, the Noldorin Elves who guided Tuor through the Gate of the Noldor (later Tuor pp. 21--2), and the story that the Noldoli 'made that hidden way at the prompting of Ulmo' survived in the much richer historical context of the later legend, where 'the Gate of the Noldor. . . was made by the skill of that people, long ago in the days of Turgon' (later Tuor p. 18). The later Tuor becomes very close to the old story for a time when Tuor emerges out of the tunnel into the ravine (later called Cirith Ninn
iach, but still a name of Tuor's own devising); many features recur, such as the stars shining in the 'dark lane of sky above him', the echoes of his harping (in the tale of course without the literary echoes of Morgoth's cry and the voices of Feanor's host that landed there), his doubt concerning the mournful calling of the gulls, the narrowing of the ravine where the incoming tide (fierce because of the west wind) met the water of the river, and Tuor's escape by climbing to the cliff-top (but in the tale the connection between Tuor's curiosity concerning the gulls and the saving of his life is not made: he climbed the cliff in response to the prompting of the Ainur).
Notable is the retention of the idea that Tuor was the first of Men to reach the Sea, standing on the cliff-top with outspread arms, and of his 'sea-longing' (later Tuor p. 25). But the story of his dwelling in the cove of Falasquil and his adornment of it with carvings (and of course the floating of timber down the river to him by the Noldoli of Dor Lomin) was abandoned; in the later legend Tuor finds on the coast ruins of the ancient harbour-works of the Noldor from the days of Turgon's lordship in Nevrast, and of Turgon's former dwelling in these regions before he went to Gondolin there is in the old story no trace. Thus the entire Vinyamar episode is absent from it, and despite the frequent reminder that Ulmo was guiding Tuor as the instrument of his designs, the essential element in the later legend of the arms left for him by Turgon on Ulmo's instruction (?he Silmarillion pp. 126, 238 -- g) is lacking.
The southward-flying swans (seven, not three, in the later Tuor) play essentially the same part in both narratives, drawing Tuor to continue his journey; but the emblem of the Swan was afterwards given a different origin, as 'the token of Annael and his foster-folk', the Grey-elves of Mithrim (later Tuor p. 25). Both in the route taken (for the geography see p. 217) and in the seasons of the year my father afterwards departed largely from the original story of Tuor's journey to Gondolin. In the later Tuor it was the Fell Winter after the fall of Nargothrond, the winter of Turin's return to Hithlum, when he and Voronwe journeyed in snow and bitter cold eastwards beneath the Mountains of Shadow.
Here the journey takes far longer: he left Falasquil in 'the latest days of summer' (as still in the later Tuor) but he went down all the coast of Beleriand to the mouths of Sirion, and it was the summer of the following year when he lingered in the Land of Willows. (Doubtless the geography was less definite than it afterwards became, but its general resemblance to the later map seems assured by the description (p. 153) of the coast's trending after a time eastwards rather than southwards. ) Only in its place in the narrative structure is there resemblance between Ulmo's visitation of Tuor in the Land of Willows in a summer twilight and his tremendous epiphany out of the rising storm on the coast at Vinyamar.
It is however most remarkable that the old vision of the Land of Willows and its drowsy beauty of river-flowers and butterflies was not lost, though afterwards it was Voronwe, not Tuor, who wandered there, devising names, and who stood enchanted 'knee-deep in the grass' (p. 155; later Tuor p. 35), until his fate, or Ulmo Lord of Waters, carried him down to the Sea. Possibly there is a faint reminiscence of the old story in Ulmo's words (later Tuor p. 28): 'Haste thou must learn, and the pleasant road that I designed for thee must be changed. ' In the tale, Ulmo's speech to Tuor (or at least that part of it that is reported) is far more simple and brief, and there is no suggestion there of Ulmo's 'opposing the will of his brethren, the Lords of the West'; but two essential elements of his later message are present, that Tuor will find the words to speak when he stands before Turgon, and the reference to Tuor's unborn son (in the later Tuor much less explicit: 'But it is not for thy valour only that I send thee, but to bring into the world a hope beyond thy sight, and a light that shall pierce the darkness').
(ii) The journey of Tuor and Voronwe to Gondolin (pp. 156 -- 8) Of Tuor's journey to Gondolin, apart from his sojourn in the Land of Willows, little is told in the tale, and Voronwe only appears late in its course as the one Noldo who was not too fearful to accompany him further; of Voronwe's history as afterwards related there is no word, and he is not an Elf of Gondolin. It is notable that the Noldoli who guided Tuor northwards from the Land of Willows call themselves thralls of Melko. On this matter the Tales present a consistent picture. It is said in the Tale of Tinuviel (p. 9) that all the Eldar both those who remained in the dark or who had been lost upon the march from Palisor and those Noldoli too who fared back into the world after [Melko] seeking their stolen treasury fell beneath his power as thralls. In The Fall of Condolin it is said that the Noldoli did their service to Ulmo in secret, and 'out of fear of Melko wavered much' (p. 154), and Voronwe spoke to Tuor of 'the weariness of thraldom' (pp. 156 -- 7); Melko sent out his army of spies 'to search out the dwelling of the Noldoli that had escaped his thraldom' (p. 166). These 'thrall-Noldoli' are repre- sented as moving as it were freely about the lands, even to the mouths of Sirion, but they 'wandered as in a dream of fear, doing [Melko's] ill bidding, for the spell of bottomless dread was on them and they felt the eyes of Melko burn them from afar' (Tale of Turambar, p. 77).
This expression is often used: Voronwe rejoiced in Gondolin that he no longer dreaded Melko with 'a binding terror' -- 'and of a sooth that spell which Melko held over the Noldoli was one of bottomless dread, so that he seemed ever nigh them even were they far from the Hells of Iron, and their hearts quaked and they fled not even when they could' (p. 159). The spell of bottomless dread was laid too on Meglin (p. 16g). There is little in all this that cannot be brought more or less into harmony with the later narratives, and indeed one may hear an echo in the words of The Silmarillion (p. 156): But ever the Noldor feared most the treachery of those of their own kin, who had been thralls in Angband; for Morgoth used some of these for his evil purposes, and feigning to give them liberty sent them abroad, but their wills were chained to his, and they strayed only to come back to him again.