The Family Line Part 34 – What About Eriador?

Part 34 – What About Eriador

It was late in the small valley where the river flowed. The babbling stream flowed past the tiny fishing house at the base of a small hill sparcely covered in pine and deciduous trees. The sharp aroma of pine was stifled, though, by the pungent unmistakable smell of the fish that was hanging on the racks Bragga was tied to outside the house. It reminded Theomin of fishing in the Anduin down at the bottom of the hill down from his farm.

Theomin was not partial to fish. He disliked the taste and feel in his mouth. While his entire family enjoyed fish, it just left a foul taste in his mouth while he almost came to the point of gagging at the smell of it. He preferred the steak of a bull or the pork of the pigs in his farm. Along with some spices burnt on the outside on a good spit, it gave the meat a savoury flavor of which Theomin missed a lot on his journey.

Now he was at the door of a small fishing house, of which most likely would only serve him fish, if they desired to give him food at all. It was a taste he most dreaded but he needed food. He was famished while his rashons from Enedwaith had run dry.

Theomin knocked on the door of the fishing hut. He then sniffed himself, hoping he did not stink from his long journey. Unfortunatly he did smell. The continuous travel and little water made it tough to do any sort of bathing, let alone cleaning his clothes. Fortunatly he did not smell as horrible as the fish and he hoped it was the fish that would mask his smell as he waited for the inhabitance of the small hut to open the door.

He waited for a bit, wondering why there was no answer. He knocked again, thinking they might have been asleep. He then heard sounds on the other side of the door. Distinct whispering from inside the house. He could not make out what they were saying but certainly heard a man and a woman arguing amongst themselves. Theomin put his ear up to the door, trying to listen in on what they were saying.

“Don’t open the door, are you mad?” the male voice whispered.

The woman’s voice was clearly not having it, “Of course I’m not mad. Just open bloody door.”

“Why don’t you open the door,” the male voice said.

Bragga started to become restless again. She was obviously sensing something was nearby, which made Theomin nervous too.

“Is that a horse?” the male voice asked. There was a slight pause. “It sounds like a horse. Why is there a horse outside?”

“You are a fool. Why else? Whomever is knocking on the door is the owner of the horse,” responded the female voice.

Theomin then heard a restling of the trees a few yards up stream from the little fishing cottage. It was not the restling of something small. Rather, it was a large noise, jostling trees and making large thumping noises. The breathing and snorting coming from it became louder and a growling followed as it drew in closer.

“Do you hear that?” the male voise said. “Curses to that fool. He attracted a troll.”

“Troll?” Theomin whispered, panicked. He knocked faster and more persistently. The noises became louder. He felt the ground shake from the large beast that was coming forth.

Bragga reared as much as she could, trying to break free from the post she was tied to. The little lynx bounced up, looking around and visibly fearful of what was happening. It hid behind Theomin’s leg. Theomin continued to knock as Bragga broke free from her restraints and dashed off away from the cottage along with his little lynx friend. Theomin watched as his horse ran off into the night. He sunk low, whispering, “Not again.”

He felt he had no choice. He had to get inside the house. He resorted to having to bash the door down. As the noises became too close, he ran toward the river and turned. He then sprinted toward the door to the cottage door. Instead of hitting the door, though, the woman opened it. He careened right into her as he fell ontop of her on the wooden floor inside the house. The man slammed the door.

“Oh,” Theomin said, not realizing what happened until he was on top of the woman. He tried to sound composed yet terribly mortified as he tried to calmly muttered, “I am terribly sorry.”

The man yanked Theomin up off the woman. “You…” the man stuttered, amazed at the events, “how,” he tried to find words, “why,” he continued but could not form a sentence.

Theomin put up his hands, “I am very sorry. I needed to get inside. Did you not her the large beast out there.”

“Of course I heard it,” the man whispered with as much force as he could muster, wishing to yell at Theomin while helping up the woman while there was a thumping on the roof of the cottage. “You brought the beast to our door!”

“How do we get rid of it?” Theomin yelled back.

“You can run out of the house, that’s how we get rid of it,” the man said while more thumping hit the roof.

Theomin looked at the man, hoping he was sarcastic.

The woman just shook her head and grabbed a whole stack of fish. She started to march to the door when the man stopped her. “What are you doing?”

She shoved him out of the way and opened the door. “This,” was all she said as she heaved the fish outside, far from the cottage. The banging stopped as they heard thumping continuing away from the cottage. Soon they heard whistling as if arrows were flying and a then heard a cry from the large troll. They then heard a very large thump and then silence.

“I think,” the man started when the woman shooshed him. They all stood there in silence. Not a sound was heard after except for the sounds of the forest returning. “I think the elves killed it.”

“Elves?” Theomin asked.

The woman sat down in a chair at a small table in the corner, exhausted by the events that just transpired. The cottage was very small, only enough room for a table, a bed, which was sitting in the corner next to the door, and a table for cutting fish next to the table. The harth was next to the cutting table. The room stunk of fish perhaps kept for too long. “Elves live around here. Some live up the hill here. Garbert and I sometimes host one or two of them but they just keep to themselves.”

“Why was that troll here?” Theomin asked.

Garbert spoke first, “They have been a nuisance here for a long time. They come out at night. Nasty things, they are. I have a hate for them that goes deeper than most.”

“How can you say that when most of us hate trolls?”

Garbert sighed. “I feel I’ve told this story a thousand times. I don’t care to tell it again so if you don’t mind I’ll just tell you my grandfather built this cabin because of the infestation of trolls north of here.” He looked Theomin up and down. “And what’s your story? You look like no vagabond nor do you look like some rich travelor, or warrior. What is your story?”

Theomin looked at Garbert, feeling he has told the same story many times as well. “I am looking for my family. I only recently found out I was adopted. If I am correct, my family is somewhere near a place called ‘Fornost.’”

“Fornost.” Garbert shivered. “Afanen says she has heard rumor the fields of Fornost are haunted. None but the very brave or the very foolish travel there.”

“Haunted?” Theomin replied. “I have had enough of haunted places.”

“Have you?” Garbert replied. Afanen whispered to Garbert. He looked confused at her. “Why don’t you ask him?”

She sighed, “And where are you from?”

Theomin held back for a moment, not wanting to tell them but he did not see the need in that. “I come from a part of Rohan called the Wold.”

“Rohan!” Garbert almost squeeled, very much intrigued. “Tell me about Rohan!”

Afanen leaned in to Garbert, “Careful, you might drool on yourself.” He gave his wife a smirk.

“There is not much to tell. It is wide open with only a few hills here and there. There is not much of a forest to speak of, if you do not count Fangorn. Each town is maybe a day’s ride from each other. Recently, Saruman the White has invaded my land.”

“Saruman?” Afanen uttered. “The wizard?”

“Yes,” Theomin said, “Saruman the wizard. Darkness has fallen on Rohan lately.”

“Hmm,” Garbert nodded. “It seems it’s not only Rohan. Dark days have come here as of late. It seems colder in these woods. Darker are the nights and fiercer are the animals here. Strange men in purple, whom the elves called “Angmarim” have come here. They were hiding in those old ruins found about his land. I believe them long since gone but I cannot say for sure if they are really gone. A while ago there was a strange creature that was eating all our fish. It made a weird grunting sound. It was thin, skulking about on its hands and feet. There was also a company of elves that came in and out as if on a mission. I don’t know what kind of mission would lead them here in this quiet stretch of the woods.”

“Can you tell me more about Fornost, or at least Eriador?” Theomin asked.

“I don’t know much. All I know of Eriador is what Candelleth has told me. Candelleth is the elf that sits atop one of these hills here. I believe they are watching travelers as they pass by here. Not much of a job if you ask me. But if it keeps you busy who am I to argue?” He then remembered what he was talking about. “Oh Eriador, right. Afanen, how about some tea.” She was then off making tea for Garbert and his guest. “Well, regarding Fornost I don’t know much. Only that it is in the North Downs and it is quite haunted. I know nothing else. Eriador I can talk a little more about. My ancensers came from a place called Evendim. It was quite a lovely place they said. A great city there was on the shores of a blue lake. But like so many things, the mighty city fell into ruin. They then moved from place to place, living in Bree, crossing the Lonelands and finally settled on a little cottage in Rhudaur. A few generations they stayed there…”

“…That is until those nasty trolls came.” Afanen butted in.

“My grandfather was the last to stay in that cottage. Then three monsterous trolls came and destroyed our house. Tom, Burt, and Bill; the three ugly trolls. They had to have come down from the Ettenmoors. Why they are here, I cannot say. The elves have protected us, though, keeping them at bay, keeping us protected from those Angmar fellows. My wife and I are simple fishermen. We like it here. Quiet. Peaceful. No war. No conflicts. Just fish, good company and a warm hearth.” The tea was ready and Afanen poured Garber and Theomin a cup, “And tea.”

“Have you anything to eat?” Theomin had to ask. His stomach was aching for food.

“Of course, planty of fish.” Garbert exclaimed with glee.

“I appreciate the offer for fish,” Theomin tried to say with all respect, “but I cannot handle fish.”

“Wha, wha…” was all Garbert could say in shock.

Theomin put his hands up, “I know, and I am sorry. I just cannot handle fish. Have you anything else to eat?”

Afanen brought out strange wrappings of leaves. She placed a plate of them before Theomin. “We have these.”

Theomin unwrapped them. They looked like small loaves of bread in squares. He took a small bite of it, afraid it would taste like fish. The taste, instead, was wonderful.

“Be careful, I would not…” Before Garbert could finish, Theomin stuffed the rest of it and another bread in his mouth, “Ah, oh, not…”

Theomin looked at Garbert. With a full mouth, he asked, “What?” His voice was muffled by the amount of bread stuffed in there before he swallowed the rest.

“Oh. That bread is called ‘Lambas.’ One bite will make you full beyond belief.” He looked at Afanen, “Believe me, we know.” Afanen nodded with wide eyes.

Quickly, Theomin went back to the subject they were talking about before, “I met an elf, not long ago,” Theomin said. “He said there were not many settlements in Eriador.”

“He’s right. You say each town, in Rohan, is about a day’s ride. Not in Eriador. You may find small pockets of settlements here and there, mainly in Breeland, but none until then. The elves have a refuge somewhere around here, but I have never seen it, nor do I know where it is.” He took a sip of his tea and gave a nod of approval to his wife. She too took a sip of hers as did Theomin who was visibly starting to feel the effects of the lambas. The tea was quite good and was hot, slightly burning his tongue but had a tinge of spice and felt soothing on the cool night in the woods. “I don’t know how things have changed, though, between when my ancesters lived there and now. Whole cities could have been founded.”

“I see.” Theomin said, almost feeling disappointed that he would not have very many beds to sleep in. He started feeling overly stuffed as the lambas was really doing its work on his stomach.

“And tiny creatures called hobbits. There are a few of those around.” Garbert remembered.

“Hobbits?”

“Small creatures, no bigger than a child.”

“Like a dwarf?”

“I say hobbits are a bit smaller. We met one a while back. Sarah…?” he checked with his wife. She nodded in approval, “Yes, Sarah was her name. She was quiet, kept to herself. Lived in a cottage up the river until it for some reason it burned down. Never seen the likes of her again. Strange woman. If I were to judge hobbits on the dealings we had with that Sarah, I’d say they were most unusual indeed.”

“What about those rangers?” Afanen reminded Garbert.

“Oh, yes. Those rangers. Queer folk they are, too.” He chuckled and took a swig of his tea. Not but a few weeks ago I saw small groups of them heading south toward Eregion. What their purpose or where they were headed is anybody’s guess. But they mainly keep to themselves, much like that Sarah. They keep to the wilderness and some even say they are dangerous.” He took a sip of the tea. “You didn’t, perchance, meet any of them on your way here, did you?”

“Yes I have.” Theomin said almost with pride.

Garbert and Afanen leaned in with a spark of intrigue. “What can you say about them? I have never met one.”

“Strangely enough it was in the woods near Dunland. They are strange and they spoke in a strange suspicious way. They were good people, though, helping me find my way out of those terrible woods.” Theomin tried to remember more details about his run in with the company of rangers. “They seemed very capable, good swordsmen, sharp eyes and ears. I guess all that time in the wild did them well.” He took another sip of the tea. “In truth, I am supposed to meet on of them up near Bree. Saeradon is his name. I am to show him this,” and he pulled out the emerald stone surrounded in gold leaves. “Have you seen anything like it?”

Garbert took it and turned it around, getting a good look at it. “I certainly have not. It has some weight to it, I’ll tell you that.” He looked up at Afanen. “Have you seen anything like it?” She shook her head, obviously but silently saying no. He handed it back to Theomin, “Sorry mate, we haven’t seen anything like it. It’s pretty obvious that it has some kind of meaning or they wouldn’t send you to that ranger in Breeland. How did you come by it, if I may ask?”

“I found it in Rohan, in an Easterling camp. I took it because I thought it belonged to a refugee of a town that was razed. Nobody knew who the person was so I took it for my own. I forgot about the thing until the rangers found it and said it had some significance.”

“I wish you luck with that, mate.” Garbert sat back in his chair and looked at his wife. “I believe it is time for sleep.” He looked at Theomin. “I know you have a long day tomorrow. If I may give you some advice on your travel, though.” Theomin looked at Garbert. “This land is called the Trollshaws. It has that name because of the horrible trolls that wander about. But they only wander about at night. So long as you travel during the day, you will be fine. I think they turn to stone in daylight but that might be legend. If you see it is getting dark, try to find the last bridge as fast as you can. Those trolls won’t be far behind. Get to the Lonelands with haste.” Garbert and Afanen rose out of their seats, “You’ll have to sleep on the floor. I’m sorry we don’t have better accomidations for you but we weren’t expecting guests. At least we have a rug, such as it is. You’ll have to wake up early. I’ll wake you then. That’s when the fish bight the best anyway.”

“Thank you for your help.” Theomin told Garbert. “In the morning I will have to find my horse.

“No worry. The elves are good with that. I’ll take you to the elves first thing. Then I’ll return for some more fishing.” Garbert walked over to the candles and blew them out.

Theomin layed near the fire to keep warm. Garbert and Afanen climbed into bed. Before Theomin knew it, they were already snoring. In the warm flickering glow of the fire, Theomin closed his eyes and faded off to a restful sleep.