"This is not normal, even for here," said Bauglir.
"I think we should put the tents back up," Mîriel suggested.
There was general agreement on this point. Bradlegar said, "It would probably be a very good idea to hunker down here."
"I'm from northern regions," Mîriel added. "I know about storms. You don't want to be caught in them."
"It's a pity the snow was not just a little less fierce," said Dennenor. "That way we could have travelled and the snow would have covered our tracks."
"But right now it threatens to cut through our bodies," said Bauglir.
There was no other choice; travelling in the storm would be suicide. So they pitched the tents again and went inside.
"We should still maintain watches," said Mîriel when that was done. "Anything that moves around in this weather we don't want to meet unwarned!"
"Snow trolls," said Bauglir, ever the pessimist. "They'd love this!"
"They'd have to do a bit of migration to end up here," said Mîriel.
"No they wouldn't. Not in the Witch-King's books, anyways. Maybe that's why those boulders are out there."
"Thanks," muttered Mîriel.
Bradlegar left the tent to collect the caltrops and rope before they were buried. That done, he bundled himself up in a couple of blankets and went outside to stand watch. Dennenor retreated into another tent to spend time in deep meditation.
Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn offered to pass the time mending any leather articles that might need attention. Araquenval accepted, asking him to fix the leg greaves that had been damaged in yesterday's fight. Quickly and methodically the Wose worked with the damaged greaves, carving out the cut leather, sewing in new pieces. Two hours later he triumphantly presented the finished work to the Elf.
"Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn has done great work," he said. "Greaves now better than when Elf first put them on. Sustain much damage. Not be cut easy. Now last much longer than when new."
Araquenval and the others examined the greaves, amazed at the near miracle Rhôn had worked on them. Indeed they were finer than when he had acquired them: tougher, stronger, more able to withstand damage in a fight. Then Rhôn went outside to keep Bradlegar company on watch. Luinár sharpened her sword, from time to time looking menacingly at Bauglir.
"If you wish your minds to go into darker places," said Bauglir after a while, "perhaps I could teach you a little bit of Morbeth. It might help if more than one person in Angmar knows how to at least deal with the rudiments of the language. Especially"--here he cast an accusing glance at Luinár--"if I were not to last too long."
Luinár merely smiled back.
"It might be worth the effort," said Mîriel.
"I do not know that much," he said, "but what little I do know I will try to pass on to you."
"It would be useful to be able to read Morbeth," Mîriel said. "A limited reading skill would be more useful than a limited speaking skill."
"Yes, but to read it, you need to able to speak it."
So Bauglir discussed the Morbeth language with the others in the tent. Somewhere during this time--no one was quite sure when--the snow stopped falling and the wind settled back down to its regular mournful intensity. When they looked outside, snow was blowing all over the land but none was falling. The temperature had fallen dramatically: it was very cold.
"We could travel now," said Mîriel, "but Dennenor is not awake. We'll have to wait for him to get up."
Dennenor awakened three hours later and returned to the tent where everyone else was studying.
"I have spent the day in intense thought and meditation concerning our situation," he began. "I transcended the limits of my body and saw many things. In the first vision the whole land of Angmar was laid out before me: there were mountains on the north, east, and south, but none on the west where the Sun was. To the north and west I saw a great red slag-heap with a city upon it. There the sky was very dark, and the lightning crackled about it, and lights gleamed out from within the heap. That place was evil, and I could not stay there long.
"I could not go north, for the mountains were very great, so I went east, and there saw a giant mountain with three peaks. One was twisted, the other was cloven, and the third towered above them all, piercing the clouds. Directly east I saw a hill with dark temples on it, and a large red eye behind it. To the south there were mountains, and then again I looked west and saw the Sun.
"Then that vision passed, and in time another was given me, and I was on a plain between two great armies of Orcs. Whether they were preparing to clash one with the other, or poised to destroy us I could not tell. The army to the East marched with square standards on poles capped with skulls, bearing the design of black baskets on a red background. These Orcs were tall and stood upright: they were very fierce and well trained. To the west another army of Orcs stood, holding square red standards that carried the image of a hammer. These Orcs were smaller but fearsomely armed, wearing spiked armour and helms and carrying many fine weapons.
"There I saw us panic, although I strived to remain calm. Then the army on the East and the army on the West ran toward one another, shouting terribly, and Orcs filled the land to the very horizons. We ran south although we could not possibly outrun them; a river passed beneath us and we came to the mountains on the south. And when it seemed we would escape the clash of the armies of the East and West, there rose up before us a third host. They bore a standard like an inverted triangle, brown with the emblem of a mountain surrounded by a red eye. Though they were not so large as the Eastern Orcs, nor as well equipped as the Western ones, their very wildness struck terror among us.
"Then the vision left me. Perhaps the outcome is not yet decided, or these armies will not march at all, but these were pictures of what forces are arrayed against us.
"And a last vision I saw: we were high in the mountains, on a road going south. We felt safe upon that road, even though we were still in Angmar: there were no guards and no travellers upon it, although it appeared to be well travelled. We saw the blasted burned out remains of watch towers crumbling into ruin. Looking back to the north I saw a lake, and south I looked up a slope. Then my visions passed and I saw no more."
The group fell silent after Dennenor finished his description of the visions. At length Mîriel asked, "Bauglir, do you know how heavily the Orcs have occupied the foothills to the south?"
"Not very much," came the reply. "Most of the Orkish tribes that are under Angmar's control are not in Angmar itself. The good ones are stationed along the border with Arthedain from the Great East Road at the Weather Hills all the way to the far North. There are still some resident in Angmar: Gram Mountain is always occupied. You can see the smoke coming out of the mountain even in Litash, on a clear day. Those Orcs that may live in the hills perhaps don't belong to any major tribe but perhaps are smaller petty tribes not worth drafting directly into the troops. There is a major tribe living in the Angaroth Pass to the east. I think they are call Uruk-Kosh. They are a lot more civilized--which is why they are there. They engage in trade with people that come through, and also regulate trade.
"I can verify for you that the standard of Mount Gram is a red rectangle with a black hammer. They are the armory of the Witch-King, and they produce some of the finest armour anywhere. Their fighters are the small Orcs Dennenor saw in his vision, and they are very well equipped, which make them very dangerous."
"Well," said Mîriel, "Dennenor's visions were interesting, perhaps even useful, but do they change our fundamental plan? The armies he saw to the East and West probably are real enough, but I doubt the battle he saw was. If they did mass for battle, the Witch-King himself likely would appear and start killing Orkish leaders until he found one that was loyal to him."
"Or," said Araquenval, "if we see a horde of Orcs marching at us from the east, we do not run west, and the other way around."
"No, we run south into the vicious ones," said Bradlegar.
They all were quiet after that, thinking their own thoughts. Darkness fell, earlier than normal, for the gloom outside had been very heavy all day. There was still a lot of snow blowing about, and they all felt the weather was most unusual, even for Angmar.
"Perhaps the Witch-King brewed up this storm to aid his attack on Arthedain," mused Araquenval.
"It may have nothing to do with Angmar or its ruler," Dennenor said. "There are places on Middle-Earth that have magic all to themselves, and care not for the intrigues of its inhabitants."
"Angmar is not one of those places," said Bauglir. "Everything here works for the Witch-King. The Witch-King decided it should snow. We have no good idea why, but this storm is his doing."
While the rest of the group retired to sleep, Mîriel and Dennenor headed outside to stand watch. Again that night they noticed a line of torches heading west under the cover of darkness. They merely watched them this time, rather than rouse the camp. The Witch-King appeared to moving a large amount of supplies from the east side of his realm to the battle front with Arthedain. Then all was quiet, and remained so for the rest of the night.
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