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With that the old man stayed his tongue, and eyed Túrin doubtfully. ‘I am old and I babble,’ he said. ‘Mind me not! But though it is pleasant to speak the old tongue with one that speaks it fair as in time past, the days are ill, and one must be wary. Not all that speak the fair tongue are fair at heart.’

‘Truly,’ said Túrin. ‘My heart is grim. But if you fear that I am a spy of the North or the East, then you have little more wisdom than you had long ago, Sador Labadal.’

The old man eyed him agape; then trembling he spoke. ‘Come outside! It is colder, but safer. You speak too loud, and I too much, for an Easterling’s hall.’

When they were come into the court he clutched at Túrin’s cloak. ‘Long ago you dwelt in that house, you say. Lord Túrin, son of Húrin, why have you come back? My eyes are opened, and my ears at last; you have the voice of your father. But young Túrin alone ever gave me that name, Labadal. He meant no ill: we were merry friends in those days. What does he seek here now? Few are we left; and we are old and weaponless. Happier are those in the Great Mound.’

‘I did not come with thought of battle,’ said Túrin, ‘though your words have waked the thought in me now, Labadal. But it must wait. I came seeking the Lady Morwen and Nienor. What can you tell me, and swiftly?’

‘Little, lord,’ said Sador. ‘They went away secretly. It was whispered among us that they were summoned by the Lord Túrin; for we did not doubt that he had grown great in the years, a king or a lord in some south country. But it seems that is not so.’

‘It is not,’ answered Túrin. ‘A lord I was in a south country, though now I am a vagabond. But I did not summon them.’

‘Then I know not what to tell you,’ said Sador. ‘But the Lady Aerin will know, I doubt not. She knew all the counsel of your mother.’

‘How can I come to her?’

‘That I know not. It would cost her much pain were she caught whispering at a door with a wandering wretch of the downtrod people, even could any message call her forth. And such a beggar as you are will not walk far up the hall towards the high board, before the Easterlings seize him and beat him, or worse.’

Then in anger Túrin cried: ‘May I not walk up Brodda’s hall, and will they beat me? Come, and see!’

Thereupon he went into the hall, and cast back his hood, and thrusting aside all in his path he strode towards the board where sat the master of the house and his wife, and other Easterling lords. Then some ran to seize him, but he flung them to the ground, and cried: ‘Does no one rule this house, or is it an Orc-hold? Where is the master?’

Then Brodda rose in wrath. ‘I rule this house,’ said he.

But before he could say more, Túrin said: ‘Then you have not learned the courtesy that was in this land before you. Is it now the manner of men to let lackeys mishandle the kinsmen of their wives? Such am I, and I have an errand to the Lady Aerin. Shall I come freely, or shall I come as I will?’

‘Come!’ said Brodda, and he scowled; but Aerin turned pale.

Then Túrin strode to the high board, and stood before it, and bowed. ‘Your pardon, Lady Aerin,’ he said, ‘that I break in upon you thus; but my errand is urgent and has brought me far. I seek Morwen, Lady of Dor-lómin, and Nienor her daughter. But her house is empty and plundered. What can you tell me?’

‘Nothing,’ said Aerin in great fear, for Brodda watched her narrowly. ‘Nothing, save that she is gone.’

‘That I do not believe,’ said Túrin.

Then Brodda sprang forth, and he was red with drunken rage. ‘No more!’ he cried. ‘Shall my wife be gainsaid before me, by a beggar that speaks the serf-tongue? There is no Lady of Dor-lómin. But as for Morwen, she was of the thrall-folk, and has fled as thralls will. Do you likewise, and swiftly, or I will have you hung on a tree!’

Then Túrin leapt at him, and drew his black sword, and seized Brodda by the hair and laid back his head. ‘Let no one stir,’ said he, ‘or this head will leave its shoulders! Lady Aerin, I would beg your pardon once more, if I thought that this churl had ever done you anything but wrong. But speak now, and do not deny me! Am I not Túrin, Lord of Dorlómin? Shall I command you?’

‘Command me,’ she answered.

‘Who plundered the house of Morwen?’

‘Brodda,’ she answered.

‘When did she flee, and whither?’

‘A year and three months gone,’ said Aerin. ‘Master Brodda and others of the Incomers of the East hereabout oppressed her sorely. Long ago she was bidden to the Hidden Kingdom; and she went forth at last. For the lands between were then free of evil for a while, because of the prowess of the Blacksword of the south country, it is said; but that now is ended. She looked to find her son there awaiting her. But if you are he, then I fear that all has gone awry.’

Then Túrin laughed bitterly. ‘Awry, awry?’ he cried. ‘Yes, ever awry: as crooked as Morgoth!’ And suddenly a black wrath shook him; for his eyes were opened, and the spell of Glaurung loosed its last threads, and he knew the lies with which he had been cheated. ‘Have I been cozened, that I might come and die here dishonoured, who might at least have ended valiantly before the Doors of Nargothrond?’ And out of the night about the hall it seemed to him that he heard the cries of Finduilas.

‘Not first will I die here!’ he cried. And he seized Brodda, and with the strength of his great anguish and wrath he lifted him on high and shook him, as if he were a dog. ‘Morwen of the thrall-folk, did you say? You son of dastards, thief, slave of slaves!’ Thereupon he flung Brodda head foremost across his own table, full in the face of an Easterling that rose to assail Túrin.

In that fall Brodda’s neck was broken; and Túrin leapt after his cast and slew three more that cowered there, for they were caught weaponless. There was tumult in the hall. The Easterlings that sat there would have come against Túrin, but many others were gathered there of the elder people of Dor-lómin: long had they been tame servants, but now they rose with shouts in rebellion. Soon there was great fighting in the hall, and though the thralls had but meat-knives and such things as they could snatch up against daggers and swords, many were quickly slain on either hand, before Túrin leapt down among them and slew the last of the Easterlings that remained in the hall.

Then he rested, leaning against a pillar, and the fire of his rage was as ashes. But old Sador crept up to him and clutched him about the knees, for he was wounded to the death. ‘Thrice seven years and more, it was long to wait for this hour,’ he said. ‘But now go, go, lord! Go, and do not come back, unless with greater strength. They will raise the land against you. Many have run from the hall. Go, or you will end here. Farewell!’ Then he slipped down and died.

‘He speaks with the truth of death,’ said Aerin. ‘You have learned what you would. Now go swiftly! But go first to Morwen and comfort her, or I will hold all the wrack you have wrought here hard to forgive. For ill though my life was, you have brought death to me with your violence. The Incomers will avenge this night on all that were here. Rash are your deeds, son of Húrin, as if you were still but the child that I knew.’

‘And faint heart is yours, Aerin Indor’s daughter, as it was when I called you aunt, and a rough dog frightened you,’ said Túrin. ‘You were made for a kinder world. But come away! I will bring you to Morwen.’

‘The snow lies on the land, but deeper upon my head,’ she answered. ‘I should die as soon in the wild with you, as with the brute Easterlings. You cannot mend what you have done. Go! To stay will make all the worse, and rob Morwen to no purpose. Go, I beg you!’

Then Túrin bowed low to her, and turned, and left the hall of Brodda; but all the rebels that had the strength followed him. They fled towards the mountains, for some among them knew well the ways of the wild, and they blessed the snow that fell behind them and covered their trail. Thus though soon the hunt was up, with many men and dogs and braying of horses, they escaped south into the hills. Then looking back they saw a red light far off in the land they had left.

‘They have fired the hall,’ said Túrin. ‘To what purpose is that?’

‘They? No, lord: she, I guess,’ said one, Asgon by name. ‘Many a man of arms misreads patience and quiet. She did much good among us at much cost. Her heart was not faint, and patience will break at the last.’

Now some of the hardiest that could endure the winter stayed with Túrin and led him by strange paths to a refuge in the mountains, a cave known to outlaws and runagates; and some store of food was hidden there. There they waited until the snow ceased, and then they gave him food and took him to a pass little used that led south to Sirion’s Vale, where the snow had not come. On the downward path they parted.

‘Farewell now, Lord of Dor-lómin,’ said Asgon. ‘But do not forget us. We shall be hunted men now; and the Wolf-folk will be crueller because of your coming. Therefore go, and do not return, unless you come with strength to deliver us. Farewell!’

The Coming of Túrin into Brethil

Now Túrin went down towards Sirion, and he was torn in mind. For it seemed to him that whereas before he had two bitter choices, now there were three, and his oppressed people called him, upon whom he had brought only increase of woe. This comfort only he had: that beyond doubt Morwen and Nienor had come long since to Doriath, and only by the prowess of the Blacksword of Nargothrond had their road been made safe. And he said in his thought: ‘Where else better might I have bestowed them, had I come indeed sooner? If the Girdle of Melian be broken, then is all ended. Nay, it is better as things be; for by my wrath and rash deeds I cast a shadow wherever I dwell. Let Melian keep them! And I will leave them in peace unshadowed for a while.’

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