Act III, part III: The Old Man
Upon their escape from the woodman village, the old man led Gardbrand deep into the forest. Danger lurked around every corner, but their joint resolve was a greater danger still, though they were much different in intent, which Gardbrand knew not.
But where the woodman had first engaged in the thrill of escape, following the old man blindly, his mind now turned to distrust. The road ahead was dark and the old man had not spoken since they left the village.
‘It is dangerous to venture so far into the forest by nightfall. I bid you old man, let us step quietly westward till we reach the forest bounds. From there we may welcome the morrow and clear both mind and heart ere we contend with the forest’s evil. It does not do well to walk hither while the wolf howls.’
But to the old man there was no promise in the morning light. He cared only to reach his abode as fast as they were able. So he spoke:
‘They will come after you with horse and hound. The sun will not save you, nay, only by the cover of night may we reach our destination. Let the wolf howl his tune, it may dissuade our pursuers, but our road can only go onward.’
Gardbrand did not like the old man’s words and indeed he doubted them. But he abided them and followed suit.
As they went along the winding ways between the trees, eyes peered at them and Gardbrand held his axe firmly in hand, trusting in the old man’s guidance. But then it struck him that he was rather sure-footed for an old man. Upon their travel under forest roofs, his feet often found themselves waylaid by root and stone, but the old man had not stumbled once. Indeed he trotted along without pause and without effort, as if the wind fueled his advance.
‘Many may be the winters in your face, but its frost has not slowed you in step, old man. You walk faster than many of my men!’
‘I have spent many years in these forests brave warrior. Root and twig, rock and stone, they bare no secrets from me anymore. If you know where to place your feet, you will find that they may be less of a hindrance than you reckoned them.’
As they came near the Old Dwarf Road, the air grew less dense and the howling ceased. The morrow was nigh, and so they moved along swiftly and decisively. But as the trees made way for the first rays of the sun, Gardbrand could see better the shape he had been following in the dark of night. If he had not known it to be an old man, he would have thought it something different. He was taller than he had first appeared.
‘You are tall, old man, taller than most of your age.’
‘There are not many of my age. But surely you have seen those Men who linger in the Upper Anduin Vales? Towering high above the ground even when eyes have grown cold and beard has gone grey?’
‘So, you hail of the bear-folk then? I have not met any of your kin before. But I hear they are tall, taller than most. I have heard other things also and some things I find hard to believe.’
‘Not all things are as they seem.’
And on those words Gardbrand pondered in silence for a good long while.
But when at last they crossed the Old Dwarf Road, Gardbrand bade the old man to stop.
‘Where are you leading us? This is much farther north than you spoke of before. Are you sure you know the way?’
‘You ask many questions woodman, and that you need not. I told you before I know these woods well. Now come, we cannot tarry. We are close now.’
But Gardbrand’s wondering was not over, and as the sun cast the trees’ shadow upon the mossy floor, he started to doubt sincerely the old man’s story.
‘How did you escape the monster when it came for you that night?’
But the old man was turning impatient with every step, for his abode was not far now and anxiously he pondered what had become of his fellows. His voice now turned, and his disguise started to fade.
‘Cease your questions woodman! We must hurry along,’ he said angrily as he walked on. But there were no footsteps behind him anymore, so he halted, and glanced over his shoulder.
The woodman stood still, his axe firmly in both hands like before, but only this time he did not look at a loss. He looked straight at the old man. And now it appeared to him, his face was not old, simply twisted and hidden behind his hood. His garb looked strange yet of fine make. He was no Northman, nor could he be one of the Bear-folk.
‘Who are you and why have you brought me here?’
The old man knew his disguise had failed him. He whispered something which the woodman could not understand and then, suddenly, he fled into the woods, swift and quick like a doe, and the woodman ran after him. But the forest had grown thicker, and the woodman knew not where he was. Feeling betrayed he knew the best course of action was to head back to the road. But Tinnurion had not lost sight of Gardbrand, and he took him by surprise. The woodman was bereft of his axe and was now delivered to the sharp edge of the elf’s blade.
‘If you value your life you will not seek to defy me,’ said Tinnurion, now plainly visible to Gardbrand from behind the edged blade Níniolêg.
‘You are of elven kind! What troubles you that you should deceive me so,’ he asked flustered. But Tinnurion did not answer, he simply gestured the man to stand up and walk northward, egged on by the pointed threat of his blade.
But Gardbrand continued:
Are our people not at peace with each other? Have we wronged the Woodland King?’
‘I am not kin with the folk of Thranduil, son of Oropher,’ said Tinnurion. ‘Their whims are not for me to know.’
This is how Tinnurion brought Gardbrand to his home near the mountains of Mirkwood. As they approached the house all fell silent; no bird nor beast was heard, and the wind did not rustle the leaves. The thorned hedge appeared as he had left it, but the entrance to his home was now covered in a thick layer of webbing. Upon seeing the webs, the woodman grew restless.
‘What is the meaning of this? The beast you spoke of lives?’
But Tinnurion only pushed him forward.
‘Elf, I cannot slay the spider unless you arm me!’
‘I do not need you to slay it but help me you will. Enter!’
And they disappeared into the black entranceway.
