No word did he speak nor did he move, but his baleful eye held their gaze until the strength seemed to leave their knees and their minds grew dim. Then did Nienуri drag herself by a might of will from that influence for a while, and “Behold,” she cried, “O serpent of Melko, what wilt thou with us—be swift to say or do, for know that we seek not thee nor thy gold but one Tъrin who dwelt here upon a time.” Then said the drake, and the earth quaked at him: “Thou liest—glad had ye been at my death, and glad thy band of cravens who now flee gibbering in the woods might they have despoiled me. Fools and liars, liars and cravens, how shall ye slay or despoil Glorund the Foalуkл, who ere his power had waxen slew the hosts of the Rodothlim and Orodreth their lord, devouring all his folk.”

“Yet perchance,” said Nienуri, “one Tъrin got him from that fray and dwells still here beneath thy bonds, an he has not escaped thee and is now far hence,” and this she said at a venture, hoping against hope, but said the evil one: “Lo! the names of all who dwelt here before the taking of the caves of my wisdom I know, and I say to thee that none who named himself Tъrin went hence alive.” And even so was Tъrin’s boast subtly turned against him, for these beasts love ever to speak thus, doubly playing with cunning words.²²

“Then was Tъrin slain in this evil place,” said Mavwin, but the dragon answered: “Here did the name of Tъrin fade for ever from the earth—but weep not, woman, for it was the name of a craven that betrayed his friends.” “Foul beast, cease thy evil sayings,” said Mavwin; “slayer of my son, revile not the dead, lest thine own bane come upon thee.” “Less proud must be thy words, O Mavwin, an thou wilt escape torment or thy daughter with thee,” did that drake answer, but Mavwin cried: “O most accursed, lo! I fear thee not. Take me an thou wilt to thy torments and thy bondage, for of a truth I desired thy death, but suffer only Nienуri my daughter to go back to the dwellings of Men: for she came hither constrained by me, and knowing not the purposes of our journey.”

“Seek not to cajole me, woman,” sneered that evil one. “Liever would I keep thy daughter and slay thee or send thee back to thy hovels, but I have need of neither of you.” With those words he opened full his evil eyes, and a light shone in them, and Mavwin and Nienуri quaked beneath them and a swoon came upon their minds, and them seemed that they groped in endless tunnels of darkness, and there they found not one another ever again, and calling only vain echoes answered and there was no glimmer of light.

When however after a time that she remembered not the blackness left the mind of Nienуri, behold the river and the withered places of the Foalуkл were no more about her, but the deep woodlands, and it was dusk. Now she seemed to herself to awake from dreams of horror nor could she recall them, but their dread hung dark behind her mind, and her memory of all past things was dimmed. So for a long while she strayed lost in the woods, and haply the spell alone kept life in her, for she hungered bitterly and was athirst, and by fortune it was summer, for her garments became torn and her feet unshod and weary, and often she wept, and she went she knew not whither.

Now on a time in an opening in the wood she descried a campment as it were of Men, and creeping nigh by reason of hunger to espy it she saw that they were creatures of a squat and unlovely stature that dwelt there, and most evil faces had they, and their voices and their laughter was as the clash of stone and metal. Armed they were with curved swords and bows of horn, and she was possessed with fear as she looked upon them, although she knew not that they were Orcs, for never had she seen those evil ones before. Now did she turn and flee, but was espied, and one let fly a shaft at her that quivered suddenly in a tree beside her as she ran, and others seeing that it was a woman young and fair gave chase whooping and calling hideously. Now Nienуri ran as best she might for the density of the wood, but soon was she spent and capture and dread thraldom was very near, when one came crashing through the woods as though in answer to her lamentable cries.

Wild and black was his hair yet streaked with grey, and his face was pale and marked as with deep sorrows of the past, and in his hand he bare a great sword whereof all but the very edge was black. Therewith he leapt against the following Orcs and hewed them, and they soon fled, being taken aback, and though some shot arrows at random amidst the trees they did little scathe, and five of them were slain.

Then sat Nienуri upon a stone and for weariness and the lessened strain of fear sobs shook her and she could not speak; but her rescuer stood beside her awhile and marvelled at her fairness and that she wandered thus lonely in the woods, and at length he said: “O sweet maiden of the woods, whence comest thou, and what may be thy name?”

“Nay, these things I know not,” said she. “Yet methinks I stray very far from my home and folk, and many very evil things have fallen upon me in the way, whereof nought but a cloud hangs upon my memory—nay, whence I am or whither I go I know not”—and she wept afresh, but that man spake, saying: “Then behold, I will call thee Nнniel, or little one of tears,” and thereat she raised her face towards his, and it was very sweet though marred with weeping, and she said with a look of wonderment: “Nay, not Nнniel, not Nнniel.” Yet more might she not remember, and her face filled with distress, so that she cried: “Nay, who art thou, warrior of the woods; why troublest thou me?” “Turambar am I called,” said he, “and no home nor kindred have I nor any past to think on, but I wander for ever,” and again at that name that maiden’s wonder stirred.

“Now,” said Turambar, “dry thy tears, O Nнniel, for thou hast come upon such safety as these woods afford. Lo, one am I now of a small folk of the forest, and a sweet dwelling in a clearing have we far from hence, but today as thy fortune would we fared a-hunting,—aye, and Orc-harrying too, for we are hard put to it to fend those evil ones from our homes.”

Then did Nнniel (for thus Turambar called her ever, and she learnt to call it her name) fare away with him to his comrades, and they asking little got them upon horses, and Turambar set Nнniel before him, and thus they fared as swift as they might from the danger of the Orcs.

Now at the time of the affray of Turambar with the pursuing Orcs was half the day already spent, yet were they already leagues upon their way ere they dismounted once more, and it was then early night. Already at the sunset had it seemed to Nнniel that the woods were lighter and less gloomy and the air less evil-laden than behind. Now did they make a camp in a glade and the stars shone clear above where the tree-roof was thin, but Nнniel lay a little apart and they gave her many fells to keep her from the night chills, and thus she slept more softly than for many a night and the breezes kissed her face, but Turambar told his comrades of the meeting in the wood and they wondered who she might be or how she came wandering thither as one under a spell of blind forgetfulness.

Next day again they pressed on and so for many journeys more beside until at length weary and fain for rest they came one noon to a woodland stream, and this they followed for some way until, behold, they came to a place where it might be forded by reason of its shallowness and of the rocks that stood up in its course; but on their right it dived in a great fall and fell into a chasm, and Turambar pointing said: “Now are we nigh to home, for this is the fall of the Silver Bowl,” but Nнniel not knowing why was filled with a dread and could not look upon the loveliness of that foaming water. Now soon came they to places of thinner trees and to a slope whereon but few grew save here and there an ancient oak of great girth, and the grass about their feet was soft, for the clearing had been made many years and was very wide. There stood also a cluster of goodly houses of timber, and a tilth was about them and trees of fruit. To one of these houses that was adorned with strange rude carvings, and flowers bloomed bright about it, did Turambar lead now Nнniel. “Behold,” said he, “my abode—there an thou listest thou shalt abide for now, but methinks it is a lonely hall, and there be houses of this folk beside where there are maidens and womenfolk, and there wouldst thou liever and better be.” So came it afterward that Nienуri dwelt with the woodrangers,* and after a while entered the house of Bethos, a stout man who had fought though then but a boy in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. Thence did he escape, but his wife was a Noldo-maiden, as the tale telleth, and very fair, and fair also were his sons and daughters save only his eldest son Tamar Lamefoot.