For me, the problem with Men is straightforward.
Estarfin hates them!
Now I do understand where this hatred has come from, and the many instances that have but reinforced it over the Ages. And I can agree with Estarfin that I have little love for the Secondborn in general. To me, and for the most part, they are destroyers who care little for the earth beneath our feet, nor for living beings nor even for each other, should the mood take them. But I differ from Estarfin on two points.
Firstly, I have known some individuals, some groups, who have more regard and honour than most. There are just those few who I consider have the possibility to form something more than a base and ugly community. The Dunedain are, of course, the foremost of these. Those men are linked to us from the times of Numenor, and from the blood of Elros. Some very few could almost pass as one of us, from a distance. But the Rangers are few and far between these days, and are regarded as worthless by the majority of Mankind.
Then there are those of Rohan and of Gondor. The men of Gondor also share some links to us. They also share, and can exceed, our faults. They rot from within, it seems to me, that only some great change can see them enduring more than another yeni. There are noble hearted individuals still, and they understand meaning and beauty, but their strength wanes with the turn of each year.
The Rohirrim share little if aught with us, but still they are generally folk of honour and oaths well-kept. They love their land, and their horses, though can be vicious in battle. But then what other way is there to win?
And my second difference; are men not also children of Illuvatar? In slaying them, are we not slaying our younger brothers and sisters….our kin?
I do not have the answers. I only know that, unless it is in defense, something feels wrong to me regarding taking their lives.
I do not judge or condemn Estarfin’s actions concerning them. Indeed, sometimes his actions are most needful. But this day I wonder more than usual
…
Now we three had decided to hunt for boar or deer in the lands adjacent to Ered Luin. We required a little meat to see us through the coming months, and, as Parnard had expressed a desire to cook for Midsummer in the manner of his folk, a boar would do very nicely. We departed the Halls early in the morn, travelling lightly with but bows, swords and daggers. I had packed a small meal for us, that we could enjoy and reward ourselves for a hunt gone well. Parnard had brought along a wineskin or two. I also had one attached to my saddle. I had high hopes for the day. Indeed, I believe all three of us were in good moods as we rode out.
The trail to Yondershire led us along the Eastway. It was a relatively frequented trail, though mostly with our folk making for the Havens. Sometimes the Shire-folk used it, though very rarely crossed into our lands. There were patrols at times, armed guards from Mithlond on the lookout for Men causing mischief, or possibly goblins or wargs. There was no great threat for any large party under escort. There was no great threat for us, I had thought. Two Noldor, armed and armoured…and Parnard could use a sword.
But unexpected events lay ahead of us.
We rode at a steady pace, taking in the scenery, the trees now in full blossom, the streams and small waterfall, the stone bridges. It was all most pleasing on the eye. Estarfin fell back some distance, as Parnard and I spoke of the best places to find what we were searching for, and of avoiding the villages of the Halflings. Parnard had a wineskin to hand, and having already offered some to me, had been partaking himself as part of his enjoyment of the day.
We rode to the crest of the hill. Then I saw him. A solitary man, rough of appearance, and with a bow on his back and a sword in his hand. He looked up at Parnard and I. Then he yelled to others, presumably hidden from our sight.
I signaled caution to Parnard. “There are some unpleasant men here looking for trouble, it seems.”
Parnard nodded and looked back at the empty road behind us. “Where is Estarfin?”
And was that not my first thought as well? Though I was thinking when Estarfin sees men, that will be the hunt he pursues.
Four men rushed at us from the bushes, swords and daggers in hand. “Grab the she-elf” one called out. “We can have some fun with her. That skinny one wont do any damage.”
In the distance I noted several more brigands, some women among their number, all arming themselves and turning our way. ‘Fools’ thought I. ‘There is only one way this will now end, and that is with you all lying dead.’ “Flee now, or face the wrath of the Eldar” I shouted.
Then it came, the sound of a heavy warhorse galloping over the crest of the hill, and straight at the nearest four. “Ride them down, Gilastor!” Estarfin shouted loudly in quenya, as his horse did just that, trampling three.
And they saw, though too late to run, their doom. I dismounted, drawing Sarphir, and made for the remaining standing man, the one whose brilliant idea was to get me first, and took off his head with one swipe.
I was angry. Angry such men sought profit and amusement from travellers, angry that Estarfin would now kill them all without doubt.
Parnard was shouting in Westron...”Beware, your death approaches” as indeed it was. Estarfin had dismounted and drawn his sword, he headed into the midst of about a dozen, slashing and hacking as if it were an art form. I followed, though knew most would be dead before I reached them.
“Estarfin, we are safe.” I called, though I knew that would not stop him.
“This filth cannot be allowed to roam where they will” he called back, already looking down at the camp, and the men and women trying to flee into the woods.
I headed for that group, a few of whom were firing arrows in our direction. I saw one heading towards Parnard, though thought our Wood Elf friend well capable of dealing with that. I was after the archers.
And it seemed to me all was slow of motion, as I plunged Sarphir into the heart of a woman, and turned to slice through the arm of one who thought to bring me down with an axe. It felt strange, the way my body remembered such movements. It felt odd I was slaying Men.
I was shouting in Westron, “As you value your lives, flee now.”
There were dead everywhere. Estarfin was in close pursuit of two swift runners.
“Estarfin…we cannot slay them all!” I called in an attempt to slow him.
“Why not?” came his reply.
In truth, we could slay them all, I had meant rather that perhaps we shouldnt. That those who escaped would warn others from employing their trade on this stretch of road.
“Because we are needful of hunting for boar and venison” I said lamely.
To give him his due, Estarfin did then echo my call. “Flee or die,” he cried out. I thought it was a little late for any to respond.
He was breathing heavily as I caught up with him, covered in much blood, none of it his own. But he was happy.
Oh, and the ‘skinny one’ slew two.
I thought then that I had long known what Estarfin was, what he had done and was still capable of doing. Yet I had turned a blind eye to it all. And I thought of what he had told me of his parents, and of the importance of being like minded on important matters. Was I like minded with him on this?
If he had not been there, done what he had, matters may have been hard on Parnard and I. I had no doubt of that. But Estarfin could be a merciless killer, who seemingly enjoyed the slaughter of Men. I began to question whether I could continue to turn a blind eye to that, having seen it with my own eyes. As we had previously shared much of our thoughts, one with the other, I resolved then to seek an opportune moment to speak further with him on the matter.
