The Black Hand of Sauron
Mordomin > April 28th, 2024, 03:02 PM
At last Mordomin stood alone amid the carnage and ruin that he had wrought, leaning upon his gory sword and drawing in deep breaths. The rain was turning to sleet, but the lightning no longer flashed, and the thunder pealed more distantly.
After a time, Mordomin straightened, and he put up his sword. Then he drew the long black glove back upon his right arm, concealing once more his Curse. He glared after the goblins that had fled the field and pondered whether he should pursue them.
Mordomin laughed bitterly. “They did not remember me. They will remember me now!”
Then Elrond came once more across the stream of Bruinen, and seeing the mood of the Elf-lord, said only, “Come! Let us go to my Hall where it is dry, and a fire awaits.”
“And food and wine,” added Laia, who had accompanied Elrond once more, despite the dread that had flowed from Elf-lord whilst his Cursed Hand was revealed.
Mordomin turned to them.
“I would be glad of the comfort of your House, Master Elrond. I find that I am very weary.”
Elrond said, “I do not wonder at it.”
He and Laia led Mordomin once more across the Ford of Bruinen and to doors of the Last Homely House. They entered and settled the exhausted warrior before one of the hearths, seating him in one of the many soft chairs with which that Hall was seemingly never without.
Laia brought him wine, which he drank with great thirst, and also meat and bread and cheese. The manner in which he consumed the food laid before him dismayed the others that were in the Hall, for so ravenous was he that they feared that he would wish to feast upon them next! Many were those that quietly fled the Hall at that time.
When the last morsel of food laid before him had been consumed, Elrond ventured, “Lord Mordomin, how did you vanquish Harvomôr? He seemed a match for your strength and immune to your blows, and he had wounded you sorely. Then you both were lost to our sight, for your striving took you into the river and the mist.”
Mordomin said, “I drowned him in the river. In our striving, I found that I could not pierce his body, but that I had the greater strength. So I lured him down to the water and forced him under. Not the sort of struggle that minstrels will sing of.”
Elrond said, “Perhaps not.
“But I am curious, Lord Mordomin, how it is that you went into the mist with a gaping wound in your side and a foe in deadly combat with you…and yet came away with no wounds, and your enemy slain.”
Mordomin said, “And then I proceeded to slay many goblins bent upon looting this refuge. Is that not a good thing?”
Elrond said, “It is, Lord Mordomin. Your striving on behalf of this Last Homely House did not pass my notice.
“But I am concerned as to how you were suddenly healed and refreshed under the mist. Did you draw the strength of Sauron from your dying enemy into your own Cursed Hand?”
Mordomin laughed.
“Master Elrond, I thought that one as wise as you are reputed to be would know that reclaiming, or stealing, power from anything – or anyone – once the power has been bestowed, embedded, cannot be done,” Mordomin said.
Mordomin looked then at a ring with a sapphire gem adorning the finger of Master Elrond.
Elrond said, “We do not speak of such things openly here, Lord Mordomin.”
Mordomin nodded.
Then Mordomin said, “Have I not travelled the length and breadth of Middle-earth, seeking and capturing many of the Lesser Rings of Power? Each Ring that I gained was destroyed by the touch of my Hand, but no strength flowed to me therefrom.
“Nor did it flow to Sauron. He rebuked me for that in ways that I shall not speak of, but the important thing is that the ‘fea’ flowed neither to him nor to me, nor back to the Elves that once wrought them.
“I felt the power within Harvomôr leave him as he died. And I felt the dismay of Sauron in that moment. Nothing more.”
“Yet you were healed and revitalized in that moment,” Elrond said, “If it was not by leeching the power of your dying foe, then by what means was it accomplished?”
“The Lord of the Waters,” Mordomin said. “His power still runs in the Bruinen up from the Sea. From there, he whispers to all who dwell in this Valley: the invitation to sail into the West. Have I not heard it myself, even though I am denied such a journey by my Curse?
“Why he chose to intervene on my behalf I do not know. Not out of any love for me, I think! Rather, I believe that he sought to protect this refuge in its need, and I was the only tool at hand.”
Laia said, “Perhaps it was from pity.”
Mordomin said, “’Pity’? The Lords of the West spare none of their pity upon me!”
But, seeing the crestfallen face of Laia, he added, “Yet perhaps they used me to deliver their pity upon others who are more in their favor.”
Laia then looked up and said, “That must be our hope.”
Then their speech fell silent, each contemplating what they had heard and learned.
The entire Hall had fallen silent, for some of the Elves there had discreetly withdrawn. Yet others had stayed, and slowly gathered to listen to what was said.
One of those Elves ventured into the silence: “Master Blackhand, why did you refer to your fallen enemy as ‘Gelmir’? For surely your foe was named Harvomôr. Or do you name all of your foes after the Elf that you slew unjustly at the Mouths of Sirion?”
Mordomin heard the mockery in the address of the Elf. He crossed to him in two swift strides and struck him such a blow with his left fist that the Elf was sprawled at his feet.
Elrond cried, “Lord Mordomin! I abjure you from violating the peace of my Hall!”
“Where such rules are observed,” Mordomin said, “it is also customary for guests to use less insolence.
“Have I slain thousands of goblins upon the very doorstep of this refuge this day only to be insulted by striplings who know not of what they speak?
“This one,” said Mordomin, gesturing to the Elf that lay at his feet, “will come to me soon. To my house at Taurn Daerebor he shall come, and there I shall slay him and cast his body into the river below. As I have disposed before of others who thought that they owed upon me a grievance.”
Then Elrond held up his hand, and those who had grasped their weapons drew back.
Elrond cried, “Peace! You will explain why it is that you name the Harvomôr as ‘Gelmir’.”
Mordomin said, “He is not the same as he that I slew at the Mouths of Sirion. In the confusion of that fight many were slain that held no weapon. That day I slew two of the Sons of Fëanor. That day, too, in the confusion of the melee, I did slay an Elf named Gelmir, who I later learned was blameless for the assault upon the camp. Elrond, you know this to be true.”
Elrond said, “I do. But say on about the Harvomôr!”
Mordomin said, “Long ago the Harvomôr was known as Gelmir. I knew him in Ost-in-Edhil by that name. As he grew great among the Elven Smiths he began to style himself ‘Angruin’ because he delighted in trapping the light of fire in gems, thereafter to shine but not burn. And he was masterful in doing so; I was no match for his skill and contented myself to watch him at his craft.
“But then Sauron came to among the Elves of Eregion, and though he wore the guise of ‘Annatar, the Bringer of Gifts,’ yet I knew him and fled before his advent.
“To Khazad-dûm I fled, and there I found friends, for the Dwarves were not deceived by Sauron nor enslaved by his devices. There I was befriended by Durin, King of Moria. Together we forged two swords of surpassing might, at least greater than we could have done alone.
“But as to the first one, Durin took it into the Forge alone, and hammered its blade such that it could never be broken by any blow. That was Vórimáca, called “The Durance Blade” for its unbreakable quality, although others called it “Durin’s Blade” after its maker.
“Unlike me, Gelmir was, along with the greater part of the Mirdain, seduced by Sauron and the lore that he shared with them in the manufacturing of Rings. The Rings of Power.
“Today I slew many goblins with Vórimáca, and I have put great fear into those few that escaped. May the lightning reflected from my blade haunt their dreams!
“But the point of all of this is that the army of goblins marched straight through all of the guards, gwimmerlings, and deceits woven to hide and protect this refuge. Who could have led such a march into the very heart of this refuge?
“Only someone who had been here before, and whom the wards would not bewilder.”
Then Mordomin said to Master Elrond, “The Dark Lord plays a long game. Do you think that Harvomôr came here to slay me? No doubt his Master would have counted that good, but that was not his aim.”
Elrond said, “What then?
“That the Dark Lord would destroy this refuge is no news to me, Lord Mordomin. He has borne this place great antipathy since its founding.”
Mordomin said, “’This refuge’? Do not make me laugh! The Dark Lord wishes to capture you, and take the power that you hold.
“Had he done that, he would have removed the last obstacle to his reconquest of Eriador, from the Misty Mountains to Lindon-on-the-Sea. Do you think it amusing to style this refuge ‘the Last Homely House’? The Dark Lord does not. In Imladris there yet is power to resist him. He hates that.”
Glorfindel then said, “Lord Mordomin, you spoke of a ‘long game’, and hinted at treachery. Could you make your meaning more plain?”
Mordomin said, “In the sack of Ost-in-Edhil, Sauron captured Gelmir and used him much as he had used me long ago in his fortress called Tol-en-Gaurhoth. But the Dark Lord did not release me willingly, nor according to his plan. Gelmir he wrought his full evil upon.
“Sauron imbedded his dark power into the left hand of Gelmir. Perhaps he thought that amusing, that he would inflict a curse such as mine upon another one of the Noldor, but in the opposite hand. So that he could tell us apart, perhaps! Or in mockery, should I ever discern his design.
“I do not know the full history of Gelmir from the point of his capture, and I only guess of his torture, torment, and corruption.
“Like many of the servants and slaves of the Dark Lord, I believe that Gelmir hid when the Men of Númenor came to Middle-earth and defeated Sauron.
“For my part, I took refuge among the Folk of Durin in Moria as I said, and their doors were closed.
“With the downfall of Numenor and (as we know now) the return of Sauron to Middle-earth such servants arose from their hiding and once more did the bidding of the Dark Lord.
“At last the Last Alliance was made, and overthrew Sauron and his great Ring was taken from his hand. But though his fortress was thrown down and his servants scattered in dismay, yet they were not destroyed. Soon they sought to prepare the way for his return.
“This was never more clear than when I ventured far to the East and met the Elves that still live there. An Elf with a Black Hand had come there before me and slain several of their People and taken their rings. I was accused of his crimes, but their Prince judged me innocent. Yet he bade me forth and warned me not to return.
“Still, I did not fully credit it true that I had a doppleganger until…”
“A what?” cried Galdor.
Mordomin said, “’Doppelganger’. It is a dwarven word, although its origins are unclear to me. It means, as I understand it, a ‘mirror-image’, alive but without spirit, seeking to usurp your own.”
Mordomin said, “I did not fully believe the tale of the Elves of the East until I had followed the trail of the goblins who had assaulted Celebrían. The leader of the goblins, Red Scar, told me as I strangled the life out of him that I was NOT the Black Hand. The Black Hand, according to him, was left-handed.”
“’ Harvomôr’!” cried Galdor. “’The Dark Left Hand’!”
“Just so,” Mordomin said.
Mordomin said, “When he came, disguise-clad, to Imladis, asking for help and bringing news of the attack upon Celebrian, he called himself ‘the Broken One”.
“Rácinamir?” Galdor said.
Mordomin nodded.
“His Elven blood allowed him to pass all of the wards and beguilements about it. He brought word to you, Master Elrond, of the capture of your wife.
“How he must have laughed, as we all rode off to her rescue! Having arranged her captivity himself and no doubt been the very one to torment her with his own ‘Black Hand’.
“At the time of her rescue, I could not understand why Celebrian was so frightened by me. I thought that the abuse that she had suffered at the hands of her captors was to blame.
“And we congratulated ourselves for having freed her. How should we not? Your wife had been rescued; the valor of her sons affirmed once more. What was to fear?
“That I had not returned with the rest was thought of no moment, for I had told your sons not to await me, but to away most swiftly with their mother. Imladris was safe, Celebrían was safe, all was well.
“Except it was not so. You, Master Elrond, were able to cure her of the goblin-poison in her blood, which I was only able to stay.
“But the poisoning of her mind by Rácinamir was something other.
“It deprived her of all joy in Middle-earth and left her no choice in her mind but to depart for the West.”
Elrond bowed his head.
“Alas that I could not shield Celebrían from such sorrow.” Elrond said.
“Blame not yourself, Master Elrond,” said Mordomin. “Only now, speaking together, do we perceive the true source of her malady and our griefs – the Black Hand of Sauron.”