Today I awoke with a terrible pain behind my eyes, and I sat blinking in the sunlight not knowing where I was, until a cooked egg was thrust in my face, and I was bid to eat it by the Lady Himwen. I was told that the eggs were laid by a wild pea-hen, but they were not able to catch and roast the hen, which is a sore pity.
Provisions being scarce, Lord Veryacano thought my time might be better employed by providing the company with food, and he sent me to go hunting with Telpenaro. No sooner than I had stirred myself, and dutifully followed down the hillside, picking my way carefully over the stones so I would not turn my injured ankle, then that cracker-eating varlet comes skipping back up the hill, proudly carrying a very large dead goat on his shoulders. I would have offered my help with conducting the carcass back to camp, but Telpenaro told me to take my ease: he would do it himself. I turned around, thoroughly annoyed, and made my way back up the hill again as quickly as I could. By the time I returned, I found him skinning the goat, very poorly, like a cat mangling a piece of fish! Lord Veryacano, frowning upon me, asked if I knew how to do such a thing - who would not know how to skin a beast for roasting? – and handing me his long hunting knife, told me to do this servile work instead. While I was busy dressing down the meat, Lord Turmagor presented the Hammer Lord with the new weapon he wrought, and I would have liked to examine it closely, but being occupied with dirty labor, and having gore on my hands, I could not.
This is a dry country, and the pasturage is not very agreeable. The goat meat was exceeding lean and tough, and the animal was old, judging from the size of its shin bones. But very full of rich marrow the roasted bones were, when cracked open, and I feasted until I saw great many signs from the others for me to stop and leave some of the meat there, for later. And coming up with Lord Veryacano’s falcon perched on his arm, Lord Tindir offered it meat, but it would not take it from anyone but his master’s hand. Very angry and wild it is, and once it came close to attacking me – had not Lord Tindir restrained it, I fear it would have clawed my eyes out! I believe its master’s qualities may not a little contribute to its temper towards me. The bird was sent forth to search among the huts of the Wildmen, but there was no sign of Lord Anglachelm, at least, that is what Lord Veryacano said his pet communicated, by so many dips of its head, and the blankness in its savage yellow-green eyes.
Then the talk turned to other things, of staying here, and hoping for some sight of our missing lord, or leaving our vigil, and searching elsewhere. And, being in a readiness to do battle with the foul orcs encamped to the west, Lord Tindir wished to know my fitness for service, and asked to know how many orcs I had fought: which I did not much like to answer, as it was a rather vague question that could mean many different things, and as I did not wish to disappoint him, I informed good Lord Tindir that I had faced as many as three or four thousand orcs in battle - but seeing the look of surprise upon his face, I decided to amend my answer by stating that this many, at least, were thrown at me, when I served in the Golden Host under that dreadful Commander Rodelleth, and it was rather hard to take an exact count of their numbers at that particular time, as it was all a great swarming mass of confusion. I did not mention that I was standing on the battlements, and the wind was at the east, and blowing the black smoke in my face made it rather hard to tell friend from foe, but it was at least a few thousand, because that is what they told me afterwards, when the battle was over.
Lord Tindir shook his head in disbelief, and asked me how many numbers I faced, by myself, when the foul orcs were breathing their hot, stinking breath upon me. Then I told him of the time when I did battle with an extraordinary large and fat orc that followed me for many days in the Greenwood, and when this foul and fat creature tired from chasing after me, and leaned over on its knees to catch its breath, I saw my chance, and skewered it neat in the liver, and so it expired by my hand. And, if this were not enough, I told him of that other time during my travels, when the orc slipped on a rock in the river, hitting its head on it, and so it was swept away, and I imagine it drowned, well, that is what I like to think, but I was not entirely sure on this point. It was almost as if I willed it to happen, or maybe it was simply good luck, but it seems to me that good luck was a thing I was always in want of, until I met Lord Anglachelm, and then my luck turned sour on me again, and my lord was taken away.
Where he is, we do not know. This I would urge to Lord Tindir, that without any sign of our Lord Anglachelm, we should leave at once: this being a place where a prolonged stay could probably do my kindred harm, and it seems not very feasible to move past the fortress by stealth, and I would hinder Lord Veryacano’s designs of going through the Gap of Rohan, which will prove very dangerous to us, as there is no probability to escape by flight from mounted Horse-Men. But I let the matter drop, it seeming not the right time for it, with these Noldor’s thoughts bent towards doing battle with something, Orc tomorrow, and Men the next day, most likely, and whatever side is like to be worsted, our enemies will be cut and hacked into pieces, for seldom is there any quarter given by the Noldor.
