The War of the Jewels (30 page)

'Seven wounds I hoped to give him,' he thought. 'Well, if it be two only, then they must go deep.'

But when day came indeed all passed as Turambar had hoped.

For suddenly Glaurung bestirred himself, and drew himself slowly to the chasm's edge; and he did not turn aside, but prepared to spring over with his clawed forelegs and then draw his bulk after. Great was the horror of his coming, for he began the passage not right above Turambar, but many paces to the northward, and from under they could see his hideous head and gaping jaws as he peered over the brink. Then he let fly a blast, and the trees before him withered, and rocks fell into the river, and with that he cast himself forward and grappled the further bank and began to heave himself over the narrow chasm.

Now there was need of great haste, for though Turambar and Dorlas had escaped from the blast since they lay not right in Glaurung's path, they could not now come at him, and soon all the device of Turambar was in point to fail utterly. Heedless now of all else he clambered down, and Dorlas followed him. Then swiftly he came beneath the Worm; but there so deadly was the heat and the stench that he tottered and was almost blinded. And Dorlas because of the reek, or being daunted at last, clung to a tree by the water, and would not move fell and lay as in a swoon

[sic; the sentence changed to:] But Dorlas was overcome, and his

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will daunted at last, and he stumbled and fell and was engulfed in the water.

Then Turambar said aloud: 'Now thou art alone at the end, Master of Doom. Fail now or conquer!' And he summoned to him all his will, and all his hatred of the Worm and his Master, and climbed up, as one finding strength and skill beyond his measure; and lo! now the midmost parts of the dragon came above him...

I repeat here my remarks in IV.186:

In the Tale (II.106) the band of seven clambered up the far side of the ravine in the evening and stayed there all night; at dawn of the second day, when the dragon moved to cross, Turambar saw that he had now only three companions, and when they had to climb back down to the stream-bed to come up under Glorund's belly these three had not the courage to go up again. Turambar slew the dragon by daylight... In Q the six all deserted Turambar during the first night ... but he spent the whole of the following day clinging to the cliff; Glomund moved to pass over the ravine on the second night (my father clearly wished to make the dragon-slaying take place in darkness, but achieved this at first by extending the time Turambar spent in the gorge).

Curiously enough, in the text just given my father reverted, so far as the time-scale is concerned, to the story in the Tale, where Turambar spent the whole night in the ravine and the dragon moved to cross at the beginning of the next day (see further the commentary on $$329-32).

In the condensed account in Q nothing is said of the need to move along the river and then to climb up again to come under the dragon's belly ('The next evening... Glomund began the passage of the ravine, and his huge form passed over Turambar's head'); and here also it seems certain that my father went back to the Tale, where this is described in a way very similar to that in the draft manuscript of NE. In the Tale as in this draft there is no suggestion -

that the men had taken into account the possibility that the dragon might not cross at the point they had chosen (and therefore, in the final version, after attempting to climb they returned - as it must be assumed: it is not expressly stated - to the bottom of the ravine and waited); in both, they climbed up the far side of the gorge and clung beneath its brink, whence they had to climb down again to the water when the dragon moved. Dorlas' failure 'because of the reek'

when he and Turambar came, in the riverbed, beneath the dragon corresponds to the failure of the three men in the Tale, who 'durst not climb the bank again' because 'the heat was so great and so vile the stench' (II.107).

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The behaviour of Turambar's companions in the different versions can be set out thus:

The Tale.

Three deserted during the night.

The three others climbed down with Turambar to get beneath the dragon, but dared not climb up again.

The Quenta.

All six deserted during the (first) night (nothing is said of the need to change position).

Draft manuscript of NE.

Two feared to cross the river and one (Albarth) was drowned in the crossing.

Two more fled away during the night.

The last (Dorlas) climbed down with Turambar to get beneath the dragon, but dared not climb up again.

The revised and final story (NE pp. 133 - 4) is far better (and of course the version in GA, though very brief, is in agreement with it).

By this time the passage in which Brandir defends himself against Dorlas (p. 152) had been emended to the final form (NE p. 129), except that Albarth (at first simply one of the five volunteers, but named because he fell and was drowned in the river) had become the kinsman of Brandir who rebukes Dorlas. There are now only two companions of Turambar, and the hard and boastful warrior Dorlas becomes the coward, while Albarth is the brave man who stays beside Turambar until he is struck by a falling stone. The development is a characteristic complex:

Brandir defends himself Albarth defends Brandir against Dorlas' scorn against Dorlas' scorn Turambar takes six Turambar takes Dorlas and companions Albarth only as companions One of these, Albarth, is

drowned in the crossing; Dorlas flees

four flee; only Dorlas Albarth remains by Turambar remains by Turambar

Dorlas is drowned in the river. Albarth is drowned in the river.

A curious detail in the final form of the story is worth remarking.

In the new account, it occurs to Turambar that they are wasting their strength in climbing up the far side of the gorge before the dragon moves. It is not said that they descended from whatever point they had reached when he came to this realisation, and the passage concerning his dream 'in which all his will was given to

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clinging' reappears from the earlier version (p. 153). But in the new story there was no need for them to cling: they could have, and surely would have, descended to the bottom and waited there. In fact, it is clear that this is what they did: it is said (NE p. 134) that when Glaurung moved to cross the ravine they were not standing right in his path, and Turambar at once 'clambered along the water-edge'. Thus the revised story still carries an unneeded trait from the earlier.

A draft slip, not fully legible, shows my father working out the new story:

Let Turin slay dragon at nightfall. He reaches Nen Girith as sun is going down. He warns them that Glaurung will move in dark. He outlines his plan. They go down to Taiglin but there the heart fails his men, and they say: 'Lord, forgive us, but our hearts are not great enough for the venture. For [illegible words] the thought of those we have left.'

'What of me?' said Turambar. He dismissed them with scorn.

He goes on with Dorlas and Albarth.

This is an intermediate stage: there are other 'volunteers' beside Dorlas and Albarth, but they beg off before the crossing of the river.

These others were abandoned.

This may seem much ado about a single episode, but it seems to me to illustrate in miniature the complex and subtle movement that is found in the history of the legends at large. It was, also, an episode of great importance: there are few 'monsters' to rival Glaurung, and my father strove to perfect the tale of how Turin earned the title of Dagnir Glaurunga.

It remains to mention that in the final manuscript of NE Albarth was changed to Torbarth, the name in GA; but at all occurrences in NE of Torbarth it was changed later to Hunthor. In GA this further alteration was not made (it was of course adopted in The Silmarillion), but at the first occurrence only ($322) of Torbarth in GA my father pencilled above it Gwerin: on this name see further pp. 163-5.

$323. In the Narn (p. 132) it is told that Niniel and the people with her came to Nen Girith 'just at nightfall', but in the draft manuscript they reached the falls 'at the first breath of morning' (see commentary on $$329-32). In the draft manuscript, also, Brandir did not limp slowly after the others on his crutch, but 'took the small ambling horse that was trained to bear him, and he rode westward after Niniel and her companions. And many that saw him go had pity, for in truth he was well beloved by many.'

$324. As in GA, Cabad-en-Aras was corrected throughout, except where omitted by oversight, to Cabed-en-Aras on the final text of NE. The draft manuscript had Mengas Dur, changed to Cabad-en-Aras at the time of writing. In NE (p. 130) Turambar says of the ravine that over it, 'as you tell, a deer once leaped from the huntsmen of Haleth', and later (p. 140) Brandir says that Niniel

'leaped from the brink of the Deer's Leap'.

In NE (p. 130), when Turambar came to Nen Girith at sunset, he looked out over the falls, and seeing the spires of smoke rising by the banks of the Taiglin he said to his companions that this was good news, because he had feared that Glaurung would change his course and come to the Crossings, 'and so to the old road in the lowland'. I take this to be the old south road to Nargothrond, coming down from the Pass of Sirion and running through the western eaves of Brethil on its way to the Crossings; but the draft manuscript has here 'and so along the old road to Bar Haleth', against which my father wrote later: 'into deep Brethil'. Bar Haleth was written in above Tavrobel (struck out) on the map (see p. 186, $19). Beyond the fact that 'Tavrobel' was in the extreme east of Brethil it is not possible to be sure of its site. Bar Haleth was in turn crossed out. It seems certain therefore that this was a transient name for Ephel Brandir, which was marked in subsequently in the centre of Brethil; and 'the old road' in the draft manuscript distinct from that referred to in the final text.

$325. In NE it is told (p. 131) that from Nen Girith Turambar and his companions took the path to the Crossings, but 'before they came so far, they turned southward by a narrow track', and moved through the woods above the Taiglin towards Cabed-en-Aras. Mr Charles Noad has suggested that my sketch-map in Unfinished Tales, p. 149, should be modified, and the track shown to turn again westward to reach the Taiglin: thus 'The first stars glimmered in the East behind them'. See further p. 159, $333.

'So ended the last of the right kin of Haleth': 'right kin' must mean 'direct line'. But Torbarth was not the last, for Brandir, son of Handir son of Hundor son of Haleth, still lived.

$$329-32. The narrative of these paragraphs as first written in NE had many differences from the final text (pp. 135 - 7, beginning 'Now the screams of Glaurung came to the people at Nen Girith ...'), and I give the earlier text (which exists in two drafts); for the time-scale see commentary on $$322 - 5.

Now when the screams of Glaurung came to the folk at Nen Girith they were filled with terror; and the watchers beheld from afar the great breaking and burning that the Worm made in his throes, and deemed that he was trampling and destroying all those that had assailed him. Then those that had been most eager to come and see strange deeds were most eager to go, ere Glaurung should discover them. All therefore fled, either wild into the woods, or back towards Ephel Brandir.

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But when Niniel heard the voice of the Worm, her heart died within her, and a shadow of her darkness fell on her, and she sat still, shuddering by Nen Girith.

The morning passed, and still she did not stir from the spot. So it was that Brandir found her. For he came at last to the bridge, spent and weary, having limped all the long way alone on his crutch; and it was seven leagues from Ephel Brandir. Fear had urged him on. For he met with some of those that fled back, and heard all that they had to tell. 'The Black Sword is surely dead, and all with him,' they said. But when he found that Niniel was not with them, and that they had left her behind in their terror, he cursed them and pressed on to Nen Girith, thinking to defend her or comfort her.

But now that he saw her still living, he found naught to say, and had neither counsel nor comfort, and stood silent looking on her misery with pity.

Time wore on, and the sun began to wester, and there came neither sound nor tidings. Brandir looking out could see no longer any smoke by the Taiglin. And suddenly he thought in his heart: 'Beyond doubt he is slain. But Niniel lives.' And he looked at her and his heart yearned towards her, and then he was aware that it was cold in that high place; and he went and cast his cloak about her, but she said naught to him. And he stood yet a while, and he could hear no sound but the voices of the trees and the birds and the water, and he thought: 'Surely the Worm is gone, and has passed into Brethil. He will overtake the hapless folk on the way.' But he pitied them no more: fools that had flouted his counsel. Nor his people waiting in Ephel Brandir: he had forsaken them. Thither Glaurung surely would go fast, and he would have time to lead Niniel away and escape. Whither he scarce knew, for he had never strayed beyond Brethil [first draft only: and though he knew of the Hidden Kingdom he knew little more than that its king loved not Men, and few were ever admitted]. But time was fleeting, and soon evening would come.