XXIII OF THE TREACHERY OF FLOR

Frár had a brother, and his name was Flor, and mad he was. He had once been a slave of the Viglundings, or the Viglarings as they came to be known, and upon his liberation, he vowed that never would such indignities be forced upon him again.

Frár often begged aid of the elves, of the dwarves, and then of Irminsul of Esgaroth, yet for many long years it seemed as if all this would come to naught. Flor thought of Thorin, who too had been a king in exile, forced to beg for aid to reclaim his homeland. Yet Thorin had had the assistance of a Wizard, and where was such help for the Grey Mountain dwarves, Flor asked.

Perhaps by chance, or perhaps by some sorcerous means, did the Enemy come to hear of Flor’s discontent, and so the Messenger of Mordor came on a swift black horse and clad in black raiment he was which concealed his true nature. He bore with him one of the last remaining dwarven rings of power.

The Messenger spoke words of poison, and Flor’s heart opened to them. He agreed to serve the lord of the Black Land, and in return, he was promised that one day, the dwarven ring of power would be gifted to him, though in truth the Nazgul never intended to gift Flor aught, for they thought rather in time to offer them to Dain instead.

The Messenger rode thereafter to the Withered Heath, where he suffered a great defeat at Zirakinbar, as has been told. Yet his defeat was not total, and it gave him the opportunity to cast yet more mischief in the lands of the free peoples.

For when Irminsul lay unconscious at the feet of the Nazgul, the servant of Sauron would not countenance letting Irminsul die so easily, for Irminsul had worked tirelessly against the Nazgul’s designs, and besides, he was now the right hand of the Master of Esgaroth, and all expected Irminsul to become the next Master in turn. The Nazgul instead dominated Irminsul, and exchanged their rings besides, the Messenger taking the ring of Authen for his own, and placing his ring, one of the nine rings of men, on Irminsul’s finger.

He thought to corrupt Irminsul, and rule Esgaroth through him, and over long years of domination and misery, to strip away Irminsul’s will, until naught but a wraith in service of the Nazgul remained.

He was forced to pass into the Unseen when he was set alight, and struck by the great arm of Kolnir, and he took the ring of Authen with him. This ring too was promised to one whom the Nazgul hoped to sway into the service of Sauron, the merchant Lockmand of Esgaroth. Lockmand had ever held a veneer of respectability, yet he smuggled goods with the aid of Jonar, and longed to enrich himself.

The Messenger promised Lockmand then that he would set him up as Master of Esgaroth, and Lockmand was eager to hear this and to aid the Nazgul in all his endeavours.

So with his right hand did the Messenger of Mordor seek to corrupt Irminsul, and install him as a puppet Master, and with his left did he corrupt Lockmand with false promises. It was at this time that Irminsul left Imladris, Elrond being convinced that the direct domination of the Nazgul upon his mind had passed, and that his injuries had healed as well as they ever could. Yet it was no mere trinket that he bore upon his finger, but a Ring of Power it was, and ever bound it was to the One Ring. Long life would it grant him, far beyond the reach of most mortals, but over long years would it corrupt him, and shorter would those years be if he let the ring wield power through him. Elrond knew that great doom hung upon Irminsul, for he was a Ring-bearer now, and to be such was to be alone.

Ithilonnen son of Dannasfin went with Irminsul, and he was of the High Elves of Imladris. Greatly wronged his kin had been by the Nazgul, for one of the Nine slew his father at the Battle of Fornost, and ever since had Ithilonnen dedicated himself to fighting the servants of the Enemy.

So Elrond asked Ithilonnen to watch over Irminsul, for his need of aid and of guidance was great, and to aid the Fellowship of Mirkwood however he could. Ere they departed, Elrond gave one last command to Ithilonnen, that should Irminsul fall, he was to remove the Ring ere Irminsul died, lest he be bound to the Ring even in death.

Whence Irminsul, Ithilonnen and Caranthiel came upon Esgaroth, they found that in Irminsul’s absence many goods, including much in the way of mining supplies, had been sent to the Grey Mountain Narrows, and that these shipments had been sealed with the signet ring of Authen. Strange they found this, for there were few people in the Grey Mountain Narrows that such shipments could be sent to.

Ubar and Eberwulf were in Dale at that time, and they heard a rumour that Domi of the Blue Mountains, most famed of all Dwarven scholars, was to come to Dale and meet with Bard, yet he never arrived. Ubar wished to know more of this, and took Eberwulf with him to Erebor, that they might speak to the Dwarves there and learn of Domi’s purpose. Yet none of the Dwarves with whom Ubar spoke under the Mountain knew much of the matter, for Domi agreed to come to fulfil Bard’s purpose, and the King of Dale had told that to no one else.

Ubar and Eberwulf ventured to Esgaroth then, for Ubar wished to speak to Gloin, to ask him if the Dwarves in Esgaroth knew of Domi’s mission, and to invite Gloin’s son Gimli to his forges, as recompense for advising that Polin and Pomin be sent to Gloin years ago.

It was then that Ubar and Eberwulf were reunited with Irminsul and Caranthiel, and they rejoiced to see Irminsul well. Ithilonnen too was there, yet Ubar paid him no heed and exchanged but very few words with him for he thought very little of Elves, save for Caranthiel whom he respected, though Ithilonnen had tales to share of his time in Khazad-dûm when Durin ruled it.

It came to be in that time that Iglund son of Ingomer came to Esgaroth, searching for healers to aid him in combatting the plague which ran rampant under the leaves of Mirkwood. For Esgaroth was a meeting place of many peoples, and many healers were there for herbs grew bountifully on the shores of the Long Lake, and he thought to hire those healers with money graciously gifted to the Woodmen by Thranduil. He met the others, and Caranthiel persuaded him to join them in their quest, for any attempts to keep safe Wilderland would aid the Woodmen.

The Fellowship decided to investigate the smuggling matter, and thus they came to the building where once Joalf ran his boat building business. Yet he had been an old man, and he had died in the years since the Fellowship had spoken to him, and his business had gone to Jonar, and now it served as a base from which Jonar might expand his reach and perpetrate his crimes.

Irminsul thought at first to rush in with armed guards, yet it was decided they should not draw attention to themselves unnecessarily, and so went Ithilonnen and Iglund to Jonar’s den, and they pretended there to be smugglers, who needed to hire Jonar’s men to help them move illicit goods out of the city.

They spoke in that den with Belgo, son of Baldur, and though Iglund and Ithilonnen knew not his face, the story of how he encountered the Fellowship of Mirkwood and how his father had drunk from the Enchanted Stream has been told. Since those days, Belgo joined with the smugglers out of desperation.

Iglund and Ithilonnen thought to uncover something of the smuggler’s business by this ruse, but not easily did the smugglers reveal their secrets, and the two of them walked away from that meeting no wiser than when they had started.

It was decided that this investigation was to bear no fruit, and so instead the Fellowship departed for the Grey Mountain Narrows. They brought with them Frár, for he knew the Grey Mountain Narrows well, and was eager to set off on a quest, though the Fellowship had ever to tell him that they were not yet ready to retake the Greydelves.

They came to the house of Flor, where they had been promised ripe meat, but were offered only insects which Flor had fried, and which none but Ubar ate, and even then, he accepted this sign of so-called hospitality only because Flor would not relent in his insistence. The cave was small, and barren, and hardly fitting for the brother of one who would style himself King of the Grey Mountains.

They learned in those caves of a gang of stone-trolls who made their lair near the Cuimenan, which was but a short distance hence. Some of the Fellowship also overheard the arguments between Flor and Frár, and Flor was wroth, for Frár had promised to bring an army of elves and yet had brought naught but a few adventurers. Frár assured his brother that these adventurers were experienced troll-slayers, and the news of this did not please Flor.

The next day they were set to depart, and Flor said he would join the Fellowship on their quest, though the Fellowship trusted him not, for they thought he was quite mad, and would only endanger them. Irminsul spoke to him of remaining behind, and guarding his home, yet Flor assured him there was no need to remain, for his home was well hidden, and could be found by none but other dwarves, and seeing that he would not be persuaded, Caranthiel gave Irminsul some of her Dorwinion wine, and Irminsul offered this to Flor. When undiluted, even a mouthful of Dorwinion wine is enough to send a grown man to sleep, and Flor was soon fast asleep.

Frár thought this to be peculiar but was glad to rid of his argumentative brother for but a while, and so was happy to leave Flor behind.

The company entered Mirkwood and passed through the grove of Cuimenan, and soon saw seven trolls ahead of them, and behind them were a group of dwarves, tied and bound, and by these dwarves was piled up mining equipment. Ubar instantly recognised two of the dwarves, for among them was aged Domi, master dwarven scholar, and also Vir, his lost love, and, unbeknownst to him, the mother of his child. They overheard the leader of the trolls, who named himself Basher, scorn the others of his gang, for some of them wished to simply eat the dwarves, which Basher said they could not for the dwarves were needed for mining. Others of the trolls were disgruntled, for they had been set a task by the Nazgul themselves to go north and excavate the ruins of Zirakinbar, that they might unearth the Chain of Thangorodrim. Yet Basher wished to tarry for a while and excavate a tomb which he had found in the Grey Mountain Narrows.

The company debated amongst themselves and were unsure of what to do. They wished to save the dwarves, yet knew not how this could be done, and they thought too that it would be good to discover this tomb which was being excavated. They looked to Ubar for advice, for he was the Fellowship’s treasure hunter, and ought to have known much of stealth and subterfuge. Yet he would only answer that they must free the dwarves at once for his love was with them and would say no more.

Eventually his companions persuaded him to come, though grudgingly did he come, and Ithilonnen followed the troll’s tracks till they found a Dalish royal mausoleum, from ere the days of the coming of Smaug. This mausoleum was the tomb of Girnir, son of Girion, who had died of fever, and was buried in the frontier which he loved. With him was buried the Coat of Silver Mail, a kingly tribute to the son of Girion, made by the dwarves of Erebor and paid for with the Emeralds of Girion.

The Fellowship saw that excavation was near complete, and though they thought about laying a trap for the trolls when they returned at night, it was decided to return to the dwarves and rescue them at once.

Ubar went forth to release the dwarves from their bonds, and Irminsul went to steal some of the mining tools. While Ubar came stealthily to the dwarves and freed them, those dwarves were not gifted in the arts of stealth, and they could not all have moved without the trolls noticing, and besides, Vir was incensed at seeing Ubar, who had left her many years ago and she would not easily be calmed.

Eberwulf saw this and thought to distract the trolls, that the dwarves might escape, yet he did this by running in front of the trolls and brandishing his weapon, which alerted all the trolls. Eberwulf ran, though he ran not fast enough, and stopped early, for he thought the trolls would not catch him. In this he was mistaken, and he was swift overtaken by the trolls and caught with a heavy net.

Some of the trolls remained at the camp-site, for they saw no reason to all chase after one lone man, and in their alerted state, they easily saw the dwarves which were attempting to escape. As the trolls rounded on them with fierce and wicked weapons, Ubar and Irminsul threw down their arms and surrendered. Caranthiel and Ithilonnen hid seeing what was happening, and Iglund ran in fear until he came upon Caranthiel and Ithilonnen once more.

Eberwulf, Irminsul, and Ubar were now captured, and all seemed hopeless. One of the trolls came at the new prisoners with seasoning, for he meant to cook them and eat them, thinking not that they needed so many prisoners to excavate the tomb. Ithilonnen climbed above the pen and dropped a knife down below for Irminsul to cut his bonds.

Irminsul then cast his voice and imitated the voices of the trolls one by one, casting insults and threats to each one of them so that they fell into argument with each other and knew not who said what. Irminsul spoke in trollish manner about how he desired to eat the prisoners and would kill any troll that stopped him, and answered himself with more threats, as if spoken by the troll chief.

Swords and hammers and clubs were drawn, and the trolls fell to bloody slaughter amongst themselves. Irminsul, Ubar and Eberwulf took this opportunity to flee, taking the dwarven prisoners with them. Ithilonnen tarried a little to shoot the remaining trolls, wounded and bloodied from their fight amongst themselves till these last remaining trolls fell too, and Basher’s gang was no more.

When the dwarves were far from the trolls, and content in their safety, Vir rounded upon Ubar and struck him fiercely and many times, such that afterwards she was known as Vir Ironhand, for great was her wroth against Ubar. Ubar had been meant to marry her yet had left the Blue Mountains where she resided many years ago and had never returned. Under the flurry of blows, Ubar pulled out from beneath his armour a painted image of her and swore that she had never left his side, nor his heart. Love swelled in Vir and she took him to her side.

Domi led the Fellowship back to the mausoleum of Girnir and saw to the completion of its excavation. Inside was a kingly sarcophagus, intricately carven with scenes of Dale and of Mirkwood, and upon the sarcophagus lay a thick slab of marble, graven with runes which read: ‘He who lies here was a Prince among Men, first born of Girion, Lord of Dale’.

And behind this sarcophagus was a stand on which rested the Coat of Silver Mail, still gleaming brightly as the stars.

Flor made to claim it for his own, for it lay within the Grey Mountain Narrows, which he considered to be his domain, while Ubar cautioned that Dain too might seek to lay claim to it, for it was one of the dwarven treasures of old. Yet Domi had been summoned by Bard to find the mausoleum and the coat for him, and he considered it to be the rightful property of Bard.

Irminsul agreed with Domi, and with fine words he spoke to Frar, and told him that if he renounced any claim to the coat, he might thereby gain the good graces of the king of Dale, which could benefit him much in his search for allies. Frar saw the wisdom of this and renounced his claim.

Yet Frar’s mood would yet darken, for Irminsul spoke with Domi, wishing to see both that the old dwarf was well after his ordeal, and to learn how he had been captured. Domi told him then of a great betrayal by the dwarf Flor, who had found them as they journeyed across the Grey Mountain Narrows and led them straight to the trolls.

Frar was shaken, with disbelief at first and then with anger and despair. He knew not what had overcome his kinsman yet swore he would seek to make it right. The Fellowship returned to Flor’s house soon after, and found it abandoned. As soon as he had awoken, and fearing what might happen if he was discovered, Flor had fled.