Contents From The Book of Lost Tales 2: “The Tale of Turambar and the Foalókë”

                    From The Lays of Beleriand, Part I “The Lay of the Children of Húrin

                    From The Shaping of Middle-earth, Part III “The Quenta”

                    From The Silmarillion, Chapter 21 “Of Túrin Turambar”


                    From Unfinished Tales, Part One, II “The Tale of the Children of Húrin”

                            Túrin joins the outlaw band

                            Turin rescues the girl from Forweg's abduction and accidentally kills Forweg and Turin becomes chief of the outlaws.

                            Beleg hunts for Turin and  Beleg is captured and tormented by the outlaws.

                            Of Mîm the Dwarf

                            Turin's life with his outlaw band in their hideout on Bar-en-Danwedh and Beleg's return to join Turin.

                            Turin and Beleg's force becomes a center of resistance and They debate the future of their outlaw force.

                             In Nargothrond, Gwindor and Turin debate the best strategy of resistance to Morgoth.

                             Returning to Hithlum, Turin slays Brodda in his own hall and flees as an outlaw


From The Book of Lost Tales 2: “The Tale of Turambar and the Foalókë” (c. 1917) (pp. 70-145)


Túrin as Warrior for Elf-King Tinwelint.


To ease his sorrow and the rage of his heart, that remembered always how Úrin and his folk had gone down in battle against Melko, Túrin was for ever ranging with the most warlike of the folk of Tinelwint far abroad, and long ere he was grown to first manhood he slew and took hurts in frays with the Orcs that prowled unceasingly upon the confines of the realm and were a menace to the Elves.
. . .
Now Túrin lying continually in the woods and travailing in far and lonely places grew to be uncouth of raiment and wild of locks . . .



Túrin kills the taunting Elf Orgof and becomes an outlaw from Thingol’s reign, as he believes.


Then a fierce anger . . . blazed suddenly in Túrin’s breast, so that he seized a heavy drinking-vessel of gold that lay by his right hand and unmindful of his strength he cast it with great force in Orgof’s teeth . . . and he fell back with great weight, striking his head upon the stone of the floor . . . and he spake nor prated again, for he was dead.

 . . .

But Túrin laved his hands in the stream without the doors and burst there into tears, saying: “Lo! Is there a curse upon me, for all I do is ill, and now is it so turned that I must flee the house of my fosterfather an outlaw guilty of blood—nor look upon the faces of any I love again.” . . . Yet they did not seek his harm, although he knew it now, for Tinelwint despite his grief and the ill deed pardoned him . . .

 . . .

Yet Túrin in unhappiness, believing the hand of all against him and the heart of the king become that of a foe, crept to the uttermost bounds of that woodland realm. There he hunted for his subsistence, being a good shot with the bow, yet he rivaled not the Elves at that, for rather at the wielding of the sword was he mightier than they. To him he gathered a few wild spirits, and amongst them was Beleg the huntsman, who had rescued Gumlin and Túrin in the woods aforetime. Now in many adventures were those twain together, Beleg the Elf and Túrin the Man, which are not now told or remembered but which once were sung in many a place. With beast and with goblin they warred and fared at times into far places unknown to the Elves, and the fame of the hidden hunters of the marches began to be heard among Orcs and Elves, so that perchance Tenwelint would soon have become aware of the place of Túrin’s abiding, had not upon a time all that band of Túrin’s fallen into desperate encounter with a host of Orcs who outnumbered them three times. All were there slain save Túrin and Beleg, and Beleg escaped with wounds, but Túrin was overbourne and bound, for such was the will of Melko that he be brought to him alive . . .


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From The Lays of Beleriand, Part I “The Lay of the Children of Húrin” (1918) (pp. 5 ff.)


Túrin kills the taunting Elf Orgof and becomes an outlaw from Thingol’s reign, as he believes.


 . . . But the slayer weary

His hands laved  in the hidden stream

That strikes ‘fore the gates,   nor stayed his tears:   (520)

‘Who has cast,’ he cried,   ‘a curse upon me;

For all I do is ill,   and an outlaw now,

In bitter banishment  and blood-guilty,

Of my fosterfather   I must flee the halls,

 . . .

In the furthest folds   of the Forest of Doriath,

In the darkest dales   on its drear borders,

In haste he hid him,   lest the hunt take him;   (535)

And they found not his footsteps   who fared after,

The thanes of Thingol;   who thirty days

Sought him sorrowing,   and searched in vain

With no purpose of ill,   but the pardon bearing

Of Thingol throned   in the Thousand Caves.   (540)

 . . .



Long time alone   he lived in the hills

A hunter of beast   and hater of Men,   (560)

Or Orcs, or Elves,   till outcast folk

There one by one,   wild and reckless

Around him rallied;   and roaming far

They were feared by both foe   and friend of old.

For hot with hate   was the heart of Túrin,   (565)

Nor a friend found him   such folk of Thingol

As he wandering met   in the wood’s fastness.


Túrin leads the outlaw band. When Túrin is away, the outlaws find, seize, and bind Beleg.


The Túrin’s heart   was turned from hate,

And he bade unbind   Beleg the huntsman   (585)

‘Now fare thou free!   But, of friendship aught

If they heart yet holds   for Húrin’s son,

Never tell thou tale   that Túrin thou sawst

An outlaw unloved   from Elves and Men,

Whom Thingol’s thanes   yet thirst to slay.   (590)

Betray not my trust   or thy troth of yore!’

Then Beleg of the bow   embraced him there—

He had not fared to the feast   or the fall of Orgof—

There kissed him kindly   comfort speaking:

‘Lo! Nought know I   of the news thou tellest;   (595)

But outlawed or honoured   thou ever shall be

The brother of Beleg,   come bliss come woe!

Yet little me likes   that thy leaping sword

The life should drink   of the leaguered Elves.

Are the grim Glamhoth   then grown so few,   (600)

Or the foes of Faërie   feeble-hearted,

That warlike Men   have no work to do?

Shall the foes of Faërie   be friends of Men?

Betrayest thou thy troth   who we trusted of yore?


‘Nor of arméd Orc,   nor [of] Elf of the wood,   (605)

Nor of any on earth   have I honour or love,

O Beleg the bowman.   This band alone

I count as comrades,   my kindred in woe

And friendless fate   our foes the world.’

 . . . [Beleg offers to join the company if they will fight only Morgoth]

Thus hope in the heart   of Húrin’s offspring   (615)

Awoke at these words;   and them well liked

Of that band the boldest,   save Blodrin only—

Blodrin Bor’s son,   who for blood and for gold

Alone lusted,   and little he recked

Whom he robbed of riches   or reft of life,   (620)

Were it Elf or Orc;   but he opened not

The thoughts of his heart.

 . . . [Swearing an oath, the band goes to war, and the Orcs tremble]

Little gold they got   in that grim warfare,

But weary watches   and wounds for guerdon;

Nor on robber-raids   now rode they ever,

Who fended from Faerie   the fiends of Hell.   (660)

But Blodrin Bor’s son   for booty lusted,

For the loud laughter   of the lawless days,

And meats unmeasured,   and mead-goblets

Refilled and filled,   and the flagons of wine

That went as water   in their wild revels.   (665)

 . . .

[Blodrin betrays the band and Orcs kill all except Túrin and Beleg. The adventure goes on as a wounded Beleg pursues and rescues Túrin, only to be killed by him accidentally.]

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From The Shaping of Middle-earth, Part III “The Quenta” (pp. 146 ff.)


Part 12.

He fled then the court, and thinking himself an outlaw took to war against all, Elves, Men, or Orcs, that crossed the path of the desperate band he gathered upon the borders of the kingdom, hunted Men and Ilkorins and Gnomes. One day, when he was not among them, his men captured Beleg the Bowman and tied him to a tree, and would have slain him; but Túrin returning was smitten with remorse, and released Beleg and forswore war or plunder against all save the Orcs. From Beleg he learned that Thingol had pardoned his deed the day that it was done. Still he went not back to the Thousand Caves; but the deeds that were done on the marches of Doriath by Beleg and Túrin were noised in Thingol’s halls, and in Angband they were known.

Now one of Túrin’s band was Blodrin son of Ban, a Gnome, but he had lived long with the Dwarves and was of evil heart and joined Túrin for the love of plunder. He loved little the new life in which wounds were more plentiful than booty. In the end he betrayed the hiding-places of Túrin to the Orcs, and the camp of Túrin was surprised. Blodrin was slain by a chance arrow of his evil allies in the gloom, but Túrin was taken alive, as Húrin had been, by the command of Morgoth.


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From The Silmarillion, Chapter 21 “Of Túrin Turambar(p. 198) (pub. 1977)


Túrin kills a taunting Elf and becomes an outlaw from Thingol’s reign, as he believes.


...Then Saeros fleeing in terror before him fell into the chasm of a stream, and his body was broken on a great rock in the water. But others coming saw what was done, and Mablung was among them; and he bade Túrin return with him to Menegroth and abide the judgement of the King, seeking his pardon. But Túrin, deeming himself now an outlaw and fearing to be held captive, refused Mablung’s bidding, and turned swiftly away; and passing through the Girdle of Melian he came into the woods west of Sirion. There he joined himself to a band of such houseless and desperate men as could be found in those evil days lurking in the wild; and their hands were turned against all who came in their path Elves and Men and Orcs.

But when all that had befallen was told and searched out before Thingol, the King pardoned Túrin, holding him wronged. In that time Beleg Strongbow returned from the north marches and came to Menegroth, seeking him; and Thingol spoke to Beleg, saying: “I grieve, Cúthalion; for I took Húrin’s son as my son, and so he shall remain, unless Húrin himself should return out of the shadows to claim his own. I would not have any say that Túrin was driven forth unjustly into the wild, and gladly would I welcome him back; for I loved him well.”

And Beleg answered: “I will seek Túrin until I find him, and I will bring him back to Menegroth, if I can; for I love him also.”

Then Beleg departed from Menegroth, and far across Beleriand he sought in vain for tidings of Túrin through many perils.


Túrin leads the outlaw band until Beleg finds him


But Túrin abode long among the outlaws, and became their captain; and he named himself Neithan, the Wronged. Very warily they dwelt in the wooded lands south of Teiglin; but when a year had passed since Túrin fled from Doriath, Beleg came upon their lair by night. It chanced that at that time Túrin was gone from the camp; and the outlaws seized Beleg and bound him, and treated him cruelly, for they feared him as a spy of the King of Doriath. But Túrin returning and seeing what was done, was stricken with remorse for all their evil and lawless deeds; and he released Beleg, and they renewed their friendship, and Túrin foreswore thenceforward war or plunder against all save the servants of Angband.

Then Beleg told Túrin of King Thingol’s pardon; and he sought to persuade him by all means that he might to return with him to Doriath, saying that there was great need of his strength and valour on the north marches of the realm. . . .

But in the pride of his heart Túrin refused the pardon of the King, and the words of Beleg were of no avail to change his mood. And he for his part urged Beleg to remain with him in the lands west of Sirion; but that Beleg would not do, and he said: “Hard you are, Túrin, and stubborn. Now the turn is mine. If you wish indeed to have the Strongbow beside you, look for me in Dimbar; for thither I shall return.”

. . . [Beleg returns to Doriath, but swears to Thingol he will strive to protect and redeem Turin.]

Now when Beleg parted from the outlaws and returned into Doriath, Túrin led them away westward out of Sirion’s vale; for they grew weary of their life without rest, ever watchful and in fear of pursuit, and they sought for a safer lair.

. . . [They meet the Petty Dwarf Mim and go to live with him on the hilltop lair of Amon Rûdh.]

…the winters worsened in Beleriand as the power of Angband grew. Then only the hardiest dared stir abroad; and some fell sick, and all were pinched with hunger. But in the dim dusk of a winter’s day there appeared suddenly among them a man, as it seemed, of great bulk and girth, cloaked and hooded in white; and he walked up to the fire without a word. And when men sprang up in fear, he laughed, and threw back his hood, and beneath his wide cloak he bore a great pack; and in the light of the fire Túrin looked again on the face of Beleg Cúthalion.

Thus Beleg returned once more to Túrin, and their meeting was glad; and with him he brought out of Dimbar the Dragon-helm of Dor- lómin, thinking that it might lift Túrin’s thought again above his life in the wilderness as the leader of a petty company. But still Túrin would not return to Doriath; and Beleg yielding to his love against his wisdom remained with him, and did not depart, and in that time he laboured much for the good of Túrin’s company. Those that were hurt or sick he tended, and gave to them the lembas of Melian; and they were quickly healed, for though the Grey-elves were less in skill and knowledge than the Exiles from Valinor, in the ways of the life of Middle-earth they had a wisdom beyond the reach of Men. And because Beleg was strong and enduring, farsighted in mind as in eye, he came to be held in honour among the outlaws;

. . . [The Dwarf Mim nurses his hatred and jealousy of Beleg the Elf]

For Túrin put on again the Helm of Hador; and far and wide in Beleriand the whisper went, under wood and over stream and through the passes of the hills, saying that the Helm and Bow that had fallen in Dimbar had arisen again beyond hope. Then many who went leaderless, dispossessed but undaunted, took heart again, and came to seek the Two Captains.

Dor-Cúarthol, the Land of Bow and Helm, was in that time named all the region between Teiglin and the west march of Doriath; and Túrin named himself anew, Gorthol, the Dread Helm, and his heart was high again. In Menegroth, and in the deep halls of Nargothrond, and even in the hidden realm of Gondolin, the fame of the deeds of the Two Captains was heard; and in Angband also they were known. Then Morgoth laughed, for now by the Dragon-helm was Húrin’s son revealed to him again; and ere long Amon Rûdh was ringed with spies.

. . .[Mim is captured by Orcs and betrays the location of Turin and Beleg and his band]

Thus was Bar-en-Danwedh betrayed, for the Orcs came upon it by night at unawares, guided by Mîm. There many of Túrin’s company were slain as they slept; but some fleeing by an inner stair came out upon the hill-top, and there they fought until they fell, and their blood flowed out upon the seregon that mantled the stone.

. . .[Beleg survives but Turin is captured; as in previous versions Beleg pursues and rescues Turin, who kills him by accident. Turin goes to Nargothrond.]

Túrin became mighty among the people of Nargothrond. But he had no liking for their manner of warfare, of ambush and stealth and secret arrow, and he yearned for brave strokes and battle in the open; and his counsels weighed with the King ever the longer the more. In those days the Elves of Nargothrond forsook their secrecy and went openly to battle,

. . .[The dragon leads the sack of Nargothrond and deceives Turin that his mother and sister are thralls in Hithlum under Brodda. Turin rushes north to save them. He learns that they long before left for Doriath to live in safety with Thingol.]

Turin slays Brodda and flees Hithlum as an outlaw

Then Túrin’s eyes were opened, and the last threads of Glaurung’s spell were loosed; and for anguish, and wrath at the lies that had deluded him, and hatred of the oppressors of Morwen, a black rage seized him, and he slew Brodda in his hall, and other Easterlings that were his guests. Thereafter he fled out into the winter, a hunted man; but he was aided by some that remained of Hador’s people and knew the ways of the wild, and with them he escaped through the falling snow and came to an outlaws’ refuge in the southern mountains of Dor-lómin. Thence Túrin passed again from the land of his childhood, and returned to Sirion’s vale. His heart was bitter, for to Dor-lómin he had brought only greater woe upon the remnant of his people, and they were glad of his going;

. . .[Turin resolves not to seek his mother now that she is safe, but rather to find Finduilas, his love from his time in Nargothrond]

Yet thus it was that passing southwards down Teiglin Túrin came upon some of the Men of Brethil that were surrounded by Orcs; and he delivered them, for the Orcs fled from Gurthang. He named himself Wildman of the Woods, and they besought him to come and dwell with them; but he said that he had an errand yet unachieved, to seek Finduilas, Orodreth’s daughter of Nargothrond. Then Dorlas, the leader of those woodmen, told the grievous tidings of her death. ...

... he fell down into a darkness of grief that was near death. Then Dorlas by his black sword, the fame whereof had come even into the deeps of Brethil, and by his quest of the King’s daughter, knew that this Wildman was indeed the Mormegil of Nargothrond, whom rumour said was the son of Húrin of Dor-lómin. Therefore the woodmen lifted him up, and bore him away to their homes.

 ...[Turin becomes a warrior and captain of the People of Haleth, until the end of his tale]

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From Unfinished Tales, Part One, II “The Tale of the Children of Húrin” (p. 57)


Túrin becomes an outlaw from Thingol’s reign, as he believes.


Túrin looked down on his body lying in the stream, and he thought: "Unhappy fool! From here I would have let him walk back to Menegroth. Now he has laid a guilt upon me undeserved." And he turned and looked darkly on Mablung and his companions, who now came up and stood near him on the brink. Then after a silence Mablung said: "Alas! But come back now with us, Túrin, for the King must judge these deeds."

But Túrin said: "If the King were just, he would judge me guiltless. But was not this one of his counsellors? Why should a just king choose a heart of malice for his friend? I abjure his law and his judgement."

"Your words are unwise," said Mablung, though in his heart he felt pity for Túrin. "You shall not turn runagate. I bid you return with me, as a friend. And there are other witnesses. When the King learns the truth you may hope for his pardon."

But Túrin was weary of the Elven-halls, and he feared lest he be held captive; and he said to Mablung: "I refuse your bidding. I will not seek King Thingol's pardon for nothing; and I will go now where his doom cannot find me. You have but two choices: To let me go free, or to slay me, if that would fit your law. For you are too few to take me alive."

They saw in his eyes that this was true, and they let him pass; and Mablung said: "One death is enough."

“I did not will it, but I do not mourn it," said Túrin. "May Mandos judge him justly; and if ever he return to the lands of living, may he prove wiser. Farewell!"

“Fare free!" said Mablung; "for that is your wish. But well I do not hope for, if you go in this way. A shadow is on your heart. When we meet again, may it be no darker."

To that Túrin made no answer, but left them, and went swiftly away, none knew whither.

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 Thingol holds court on Saeros’s death, and Túrin’s flight from justice.


...Thingol sighed, and he said: "Alas! How has this shadow stolen into my realm? Saeros I accounted faithful and wise; but if he lived he would feel my anger, for his taunting was evil, and I hold him to blame for all that chanced in the hall. So far Túrin has my pardon. But the shaming of Saeros and the hounding of him to his death were wrongs greater than the offence, and these deeds I cannot pass over. They show a hard heart, and proud." Then Thingol fell silent, but at last he spoke again in sadness. "This is an ungrateful fosterson, and a Man too proud for his state. How shall I harbour one who scorns me and my law, or pardon one who will not repent? Therefore I will banish Túrin son of Húrin from the kingdom of Doriath. If he seeks entry he shall be brought to judgement before me; and until he sues for pardon at my feet he is my son no longer. If any here accounts this unjust, let him speak."

Then there was silence in the hall, and Thingol lifted up his hand to pronounce his doom. But at that moment Beleg entered in haste, and cried: "Lord, may I yet speak?"

 ...[Nessa and Beleg show that Túrin was attacked and spared his attacker]

 "Judgement is mine," said Thingol. "But what you have told shall govern it." Then he questioned Nellas closely; and at last he turned to Mablung, saying: "It is strange to me that Túrin said nothing of this to you."

"Yet he did not," said Mablung. "And had he spoken of it, otherwise would my words have been to him at parting."

"And otherwise shall my doom now be," said Thingol. "Hear me! Such fault as can be found in Túrin I now pardon, holding him wronged and provoked. And since it was indeed, as he said, one of my council who so misused him, he shall not seek for this pardon, but I will send it to him, wherever he may be found; and I will recall him in honour to my halls."

 ...[Beleg vows to find Turin and let him know the King has pardoned him]


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Túrin joins the outlaw band


Now the tale turns again to Túrin. He, believing himself an outlaw whom the king would pursue, did not return to Beleg on the north-marches of Doriath, but went away westward, and passing secretly out of the Guarded Realm came into the woodlands south of Teiglin. There before the Nirnaeth many Men had dwelt in scattered homesteads; they were of Haleth's folk for the most part, but owned no lord, and they lived both by hunting and by husbandry, keeping swine in the mast-lands, and tilling clearings in the forest which were fenced from the wild. But most were now destroyed, or had fled into Brethil, and all that region lay under the fear of Orcs, and of outlaws. For in that time of ruin houseless and desperate Men went astray: remnants of battle and defeat, and lands laid waste; and some were Men driven into the wild for evil deeds. They hunted and gathered such food as they could; but in winter when hunger drove them they were to be feared as wolves, and Gaurwaith, the Wolf-men, they were called by those who still defended their homes. Some fifty of these Men had joined in one band, wandering in the woods beyond the western marches of Doriath; and they were hated scarcely less than Orcs, for there were among them outcasts hard of heart, bearing a grudge against their own kind. The grimmest among them was one named Andróg, hunted from Dor-lómin for the slaying of a woman; and others also came from that land: old Algund, the oldest of the fellowship, who had fled from the Nirnaeth, and Forweg, as he named himself, the captain of the band, a man with fair hair and unsteady glittering eyes, big and bold, but far fallen from the ways of the Edain of the people of Hador. They were become very wary, and they set scouts or a watch about them, whether moving or at rest; and thus they were quickly aware of Túrin when he strayed into their haunts. They trailed him, and they drew a ring about him; and suddenly, as he came out into a glade beside a stream, he found himself within a circle of men with bent bows and drawn swords.

Then Túrin halted, but he showed no fear. "Who are you?" he said. "I thought that only Orcs waylaid Men; but I see that I am mistaken."

"You may rue the mistake," said Forweg, "for these are our haunts, and we do not allow other Men to walk in them. We take their lives as forfeit, unless they can ransom them."

Then Túrin laughed. "You will get no ransom from me," he said, “an outcast and an outlaw. You may search when I am dead, but it will cost you dearly to prove my words true."

Nonetheless his death seemed near, for many arrows were notched to the string, waiting for the word of the captain; and none of his enemies stood within reach of a leap with drawn sword. But Túrin, seeing some stones at the stream's edge before his feet, stooped suddenly; and in that instant one of the men, angered by his words, let fly a shaft. But it passed over Túrin, and he springing up cast a stone at the bowman with great force and true aim; and he fell to the ground with broken skull.

"I might be of more service to you alive, in the place of that luckless man," said Túrin; and turning to Forweg he said: "If you are the captain here, you should not allow your men to shoot without command."

"I do not," said Forweg; "but he has been rebuked swiftly enough. I will take you in his stead, if you will heed my words better."

Then two of the outlaws cried out against him; and one was a friend of the fallen man. Ulrad was his name. "A strange way to gain entry to a fellowship," he said: "the slaying of one of the best men."

"Not unchallenged," said Túrin. "But come then! I will endure you both together, with weapons or with strength alone; and then you shall see if I am fit to replace one of your best men." Then he strode towards them; but Ulrad gave back and would not fight. The other threw down his bow, and looked Túrin up and down; and this man was Andróg of Dor-lómin.

"I am not your match," he said at length, shaking his head. "There is none here, I think. You may join us, for my part. But there is a strange look about you; you are a dangerous man. What is your name?"

"Neithan, the Wronged, I call myself," said Túrin, and Neithan he was afterwards called by the outlaws; but though he told them that he had suffered injustice (and to any who claimed the like he ever lent too ready an ear), no more would he reveal concerning his life or his home. Yet they saw that he had fallen from some high state, and that though he had nothing but his arms, those were made by Elven-smiths. He soon won their praise, for he was strong and valiant, and had more skill in the woods than they, and they trusted him, for he was not greedy, and took little thought for himself; but they feared him, because of his sudden angers, which they seldom understood. To Doriath Túrin could not, or in pride would not, return; to Nargothrond since the fall of Felagund none were admitted. To the lesser folk of Haleth in Brethil he did not deign to go; and to Dor-lómin he did not dare, for it was closely beset, and one man alone could not hope at that time, as he thought, to come through the passes of the Mountains of Shadow. Therefore Túrin abode with the outlaws, since the company of any men made the hardship of the wild more easy to endure; and because he wished to live and could not be ever at strife with them, he did little to restrain their evil deeds. Yet at times pity and shame would wake in him, and then he was perilous in his anger. In this way he lived to that year's end, and through the need and hunger of winter, until Stirring came and then a fair spring.

Now in the woods south of Teiglin, as has been told, there were still some homesteads of Men, hardy and wary, though now few in number. Though they loved them not at all and pitied them little, they would in bitter winter put out such food as they could well spare where the Gaurwaith might find it; and so they hoped to avoid the banded attack of the famished. But they earned less gratitude so from the outlaws than from beasts and birds, and they were saved rather by their dogs and their fences. For each homestead had great hedges about its cleared land, and about the houses was a ditch and a stockade; and there were paths from stead to stead, and men could summon help at need by horn-calls.

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Turin rescues the girl from Forweg's abduction and accidentally kills Forweg.

But when spring was come it was perilous for the Gaurwaith to linger so near to the houses of the Woodmen, who might gather and hunt them down; and Túrin wondered therefore that Forweg did not lead them away. There was more food and game, and less peril, away South where no Men remained. Then one day Túrin missed Forweg, and also Andróg his friend; and he asked where they were, but his companions laughed.

"Away on business of their own, I guess," said Ulrad. "They will be back before long, and then we shall move. In haste, maybe; for we shall be lucky if they do not bring the hive-bees after them."

The sun shone and the young leaves were green; and Túrin was irked by the squalid camp of the outlaws, and he wandered away alone far into the forest. Against his will he remembered the Hidden Kingdom, and he seemed to hear the names of the flowers of Doriath as echoes of an old tongue almost forgotten. But on a sudden he heard cries, and from a hazel-thicket a young woman ran out; her clothes were rent by thorns, and she was in great fear, and stumbling she fell gasping to the ground. Then Túrin springing towards the thicket with drawn sword hewed down a man that burst from the hazels in pursuit; and he saw only in the very stroke that it was Forweg.

But as he stood looking down in amaze at the blood upon the grass, Andróg came out, and halted also astounded. "Evil work, Neithan!" he cried, and drew his sword; but Túrin's mood ran cold, and he said to Andróg: "Where are the Orcs, then? Have you outrun them to help her?"

"Orcs?" said Andróg. "Fool! You call yourself an outlaw. Outlaws know no law but their needs. Look to your own, Neithan, and leave us to mind ours."

"I will do so," said Túrin. "But today our paths have crossed. You will leave the woman to me, or you will join Forweg."

Andróg laughed. "If that is the way of it, have your will," he said. "I make no claim to match you, alone; but our fellows may take this slaying ill."

Then the woman rose to her feet and laid her hand on Túrin's arm. She looked at the blood and she looked at Túrin, and there was delight in her eyes. "Kill him, lord!" she said. "Kill him too! And then come with me. If you bring their heads, Larnach my father will not be displeased. For two 'wolf-heads' he has rewarded men well."

But Túrin said to Andróg: "Is it far to her home?"

"A mile or so," he answered, "in a fenced homestead yonder. She was straying outside."

"Go then quickly," said Túrin, turning back to the woman. "Tell your father to keep you better. But I will not cut off the heads of my fellows to buy his favour, or aught else."

Then he put up his sword. "Come!" he said to Andróg. "We will return. But if you wish to bury your captain, you must do so yourself. Make haste, for a hue and cry may be raised. Bring his weapons!"

Then Túrin went on his way without more words, and Andróg watched him go, and he frowned as one pondering a riddle.

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Turin becomes captain of the outlaw band

When Túrin came back to the camp of the outlaws he found them restless and ill at ease; for they had stayed too long already in one place, near to homesteads well-guarded, and they murmured against Forweg. "He runs hazards to our cost," they said; "and others may have to pay for his pleasures."

"Then choose a new captain!" said Túrin, standing before them. "Forweg can lead you no longer; for he is dead."

"How do you know that?" said Ulrad. "Did you seek honey from the same hive? Did the bees sting him?"

"No," said Túrin. "One sting was enough. I slew him. But I spared Andróg, and he will soon return." Then he told all that was done, rebuking those that did such deeds; and while he yet spoke Andróg returned bearing Forweg's weapons. "See Neithan!" he cried. "No alarm has been raised. Maybe she hopes to meet you again."

"If you jest with me," said Túrin, "I shall regret that I grudged her your head. Now tell your tale, and be brief."

Then Andróg told truly enough all that had befallen. "What business Neithan had there I now wonder," he said. "Not ours it seems. For when I came up, he had already slain Forweg. The woman liked that well, and offered to go with him, begging our heads as a bride-price. But he did not want her, and sped her off; so what grudge he had against the captain I cannot guess. He left my head on my shoulders, for which I am grateful though much puzzled."

"Then I deny your claim to come of the People of Hador,” said Túrin. "To Uldor the Accursed you belong rather, and should seek service with Angband. But hear me now!" he cried to them all. "These choices I give you. You must take me as your captain in Forweg's place, or else let me go. I will govern this fellowship now, or leave it. But if you wish to kill me, set to! I will fight you all until I am dead—or you."

Then many men seized their weapons, but Andróg cried out: "Nay! The head that he spared is not witless. If we fight, more than one will die needlessly, before we kill the best man among us." Then he laughed. "As it was when he joined us, so it is again. He kills to make room. If it proved well before, so may it again; and he may lead us to better fortune than prowling about other men's middens."

And old Algund said: "The best among us. Time was when we would have done the same, if we dared; but we have forgotten much. He may bring us home in the end."

At that the thought came to Túrin that from this small band he might rise to build himself a free lordship of his own. But he looked at Algund and Andróg, and he said: "Home, do you say? Tall and cold stand the Mountains of Shadow between them. Behind them are the people of Uldor, and about them the legions of Angband. If such things do not daunt you, seven times seven men, then I may lead you homewards. But how far before we die?"

All were silent. Then Túrin spoke again. "Do you take me to be your captain? Then I will lead you first away into the wild far from the homes of Men. There we may find better fortune or not; but at the least we shall earn less hatred of our own kind."

Then all those that were of the People of Hador gathered to him, and took him as their captain; and the others with less good will agreed. And at once he led them away out of that country.

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Beleg hunts for Turin

 Many messengers had been sent out by Thingol to seek Túrin within Doriath and in the lands near its borders; but in the year of his flight they searched for him in vain, for none knew or could guess that he was with the outlaws and enemies of Men. When winter came on they returned to the king, save Beleg only. After all others had departed still he went on alone.

. . .

Then Beleg went on his way in haste, and sought for the lairs of the outlaws, and such signs as might show him whither they had gone. These he soon found; but Túrin was now several days ahead, and moved swiftly, fearing the pursuit of the Woodmen and he used all the arts that he knew to defeat or mislead any that tried to follow them. Seldom did they remain two nights in one camp, and they left little trace of their going or staying. So it was that even Beleg hunted them in vain. Led by signs that he could read, or by the rumour of the passing of Men among the wild things with whom he could speak, he came often near, but always their lair was deserted when he came to it; for they kept a watch about them by day and night, and at any rumour of approach they were swiftly up and away. "Alas!" he cried. "Too well did I teach this child of Men craft in wood and field! An Elvish band almost one might think this to be." But they for their part became aware that they were trailed by some tireless pursuer, whom they could not see, and yet could not shake off; and they grew uneasy.

Not long afterwards, as Beleg had feared, the Orcs came across the Brithiach, and being resisted with all the force that he could muster by Handir of Brethil they passed south over the Crossings of Teiglin in search of plunder. Many of the Woodmen had taken Beleg's counsel and sent their women and children to ask for refuge in Brethil. These and their escort escaped, passing over the Crossings in time; but the armed men that came behind were met by the Orcs, and the men were worsted. A few fought their way through and came to Brethil, but many were slain or captured; and the Orcs passed on to the homesteads, and sacked them and burned them. Then at once they turned back westwards, seeking the Road, for they wished now to return North as swiftly as they could with their booty and their captives.

But the scouts of the outlaws were soon aware of them; and though they cared little enough for the captives, the plunder of the Woodmen aroused their greed. To Túrin it seemed perilous to reveal themselves to the Orcs, until their numbers were known; but the outlaws would not heed him, for they had need of many things in the wild, and already some began to regret his leading. Therefore taking one Orleg as his only companion Túrin went forth to spy upon the Orcs; and giving command of the band to Andróg he charged him to lie close and well hid while they were gone.

Now the Orc-host was far greater than the band of the outlaws, but they were in lands to which Orcs had seldom dared to come, and they knew also that beyond the Road lay the Talath Dirnen, the Guarded Plain, upon which the scouts and spies of Nargothrond kept watch; and fearing danger they were wary, and their scouts went creeping through the trees on either side of the marching lines. Thus it was that Túrin and Orleg were discovered, for three scouts stumbled upon them as they lay hid; and though they slew two the third escaped, crying as he ran Golug! Golug! Now that was a name which they had for the Noldor. At once the forest was filled with Orcs, scattering silently and hunting far and wide. Then Túrin, seeing that there was small hope of escape, thought at least to deceive them and to lead them away from the hiding-place of his men; and perceiving from the cry of Golug! that they feared the spies of Nargothrond, he fled with Orleg westward. The pursuit came swiftly after them, until turn and dodge as they would they were driven at last out of the forest; and then they were espied, and as they sought to cross the Road Orleg was shot down by many arrows. But Túrin was saved by his elven-mail, and escaped alone into the wilds beyond; and by speed and craft he eluded his enemies, fleeing far into lands that were strange to him. Then the Orcs, fearing that the Elves of Nargothrond might be aroused, slew their captives and made haste away into the North.

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Beleg is captured and tormented by the outlaws.

Now when three days had passed, and yet Túrin and Orleg did not return, some of the outlaws wished to depart from the cave where they lay hid; but Andróg spoke against it. And while they were in the midst of this debate, suddenly a grey figure stood before them. Beleg had found them at last. He came forward with no weapon in his hands, and held the palms turned towards them; but they leapt up in fear, and Andróg coming behind cast a noose over him, and drew it so that it pinioned his arms.

"If you do not wish for guests, you should keep better watch," said Beleg. "Why do you welcome me thus? I come as a friend, and seek only a friend. Neithan I hear that you call him."

"He is not here," said Ulrad. "But unless you have long spied on us, how know you that name?"

"He has long spied on us," said Andróg. "This is the shadow that had dogged us. Now perhaps we shall learn his true purpose." Then he bade them tie Beleg to a tree outside the cave; and when he was hard bound hand and foot they questioned him. But to all their questions Beleg would give one answer only: "A friend I have been to this Neithan since I first met him in the woods, and he was then but a child. I seek him only in love, and to bring him good tidings."

"Let us slay him, and be rid of his spying," and Andróg in wrath; and he looked on the great bow of Beleg and coveted it for he was an archer. But some of better heart spoke against him, and Algund said to him: "The captain may return yet; and then you will rue it, if he learns that he has been robbed at once of a friend and of good tidings."

"I do not believe the tale of this Elf," said Andróg. "He is a spy of the King of Doriath. But if he has indeed any tidings, he shall tell them to us; and we shall judge if they give us reason to let him live."

"I shall wait for your captain," said Beleg.

"You shall stand there until you speak," said Andróg.

Then at the egging of Andróg they left Beleg tied to the tree without food or water, and they sat near eating and drinking; but he said no more to them. When two days and nights had passed in this way they became angry and fearful, and were eager to be gone; and most were now ready to slay the Elf. As night drew down they were all gathered about him, and Ulrad brought a brand from the little fire that was lit in the cave mouth. But at that moment Túrin returned. Coming silently, as was his custom, he stood in the shadows beyond the ring of men, and he saw the haggard face of Beleg in the light of the brand.

Then he was stricken as with a shaft, and as if at the sudden melting of a frost tears long unshed filled his eyes. He sprang out and ran to the tree. "Beleg! Beleg!" he cried. "How have you come hither? And why do you stand so?" At once he cut the bonds from his friend, and Beleg fell forward into his arms.

When Túrin heard all that the men would tell, he was angry and grieved; but at first he gave heed only to Beleg. While he tended him with what skill he had, he thought of his life in the woods, and his anger turned upon himself. For often strangers had been slain, when caught near the lairs of the outlaws, or waylaid by them, and he had not hindered it; and often he himself had spoken ill of King Thingol and of the Grey-elves, so that he must share the blame, if they were treated as foes. Then with bitterness he turned to the men. "You were cruel," he said, "and cruel without need. Never until now have we tormented a prisoner; but to such Orc-work such a life as we lead has brought us. Lawless and fruitless all our deeds have been, serving only ourselves, and feeding hate in our hearts."

But Andróg said: "Whom shall we serve, if not ourselves? Whom shall we love, when all hate us?"

"At least my hands shall not again be raised against Elves or Men," said Túrin. "Angband has servants enough. If others will not take this vow with me, I will walk alone."

Then Beleg opened his eyes and raised his head. "Not alone!" he said. "Now at last I can tell my tidings. You are no outlaw, and Neithan is a name unfit. Such fault as was found in you is pardoned. For a year you have been sought, to recall you honour and to the service of the king. The Dragon-helm has been missed too long."

But Túrin showed no joy in this news, and sat long in silence; for at Beleg's words a shadow fell upon him again. "Let this night pass," he said at length.
"Then I will choose. However it goes, we must leave this lair tomorrow; for not all who seek us wish us well."

"Nay, none," said Andróg, and he cast an evil look at Beleg.


In the morning Beleg, being swiftly healed of his pains, after the manner of the Elven-folk of old, spoke to Túrin apart.

“I looked for more joy at my tidings," he said. "Surely you will return now to Doriath?" And he begged Túrin to do this in all ways that he could; but the more he urged it, the more Túrin hung back. Nonetheless he questioned Beleg closely concerning the judgement of Thingol. Then Beleg told him all that he knew, and at the last Túrin said: "Then Mablung proved my friend, as he once seemed?"

"The friend of truth, rather," said Beleg, "and that was best, in the end. But why, Túrin, did you not speak to him of Saeros' assault upon you? All otherwise might things have gone. And," he said, looking at the men sprawled near the mouth of the cave, "you might have held your helm still high, and not fallen to this."

"That may be, if fall you call it," said Túrin. "That may be. But so it went; and words stuck in my throat. There was reproof in his eyes, without question asked of me, for a deed I had not done. My Man's heart was proud, as the Elfking said. And so it still is, Beleg Cúthalion. Not yet will it suffer me to go back to Menegroth and bear looks of pity and pardon, as for a wayward boy amended. I should give pardon, not receive it. And I am a boy no longer, but a man, according to my kind; and a hard man by my fate."

Then Beleg was troubled. "What will you do, then?" he asked.

"Fare free," said Túrin. "That wish Mablung gave me at our parting. The grace of Thingol will not stretch to receive these companions of my fall, I think; but I will not part with them now, if they do not wish to part with me. I love them in my way, even the worst a little. They are of my own kind, and there is some good in each that might grow. I think that they will stand by me."

"You see with other eyes than mine," said Beleg. "If you try to wean them from evil, they will fail you. I doubt them and one most of all."

"How shall an Elf judge of Men?" said Túrin.

"As he judges all deeds, by whomsoever done," answered Beleg, but he said no more, and did not speak of Andróg’s malice, to which his evil handling had been chiefly due; for perceiving Túrin's mood he feared to be disbelieved and to hurt their old friendship, driving Túrin back to his evil ways.

"Fare free, you say, Túrin, my friend," he said. "What is your meaning?"

"I would lead my own men, and make war in my own way” Túrin answered. "But in this at least my heart is changed: I repent every stroke save those dealt against the Enemy of Men and Elves. And above all else I would have you beside me. Stay with me!"

"If I stayed beside you, love would lead me, not wisdom,” said Beleg. "My heart warns me that we should return to Doriath."

"Nonetheless, I will not go there," said Túrin.

Then Beleg strove once more to persuade him to return to the service of King Thingol, saying that there was great need of his strength and valour on the north-marches of Doriath, and he spoke to him of the new inroads of the Orcs, coming down into Dimbar out of Taur-nu-Fuin by the Pass of Anach. But all his words were of no avail, and at last he said: "A hard man you have called yourself, Túrin. Hard you are, and stubborn. Now the turn is mine. If you wish indeed to have the Strongbow beside you, look for me in Dimbar; for thither I shall return."

Then Túrin sat in silence, and strove with his pride, which would not let him turn back; and he brooded on the years that lay behind him.

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 Of Mîm the Dwarf


After the departure of Beleg (and that was in the second summer after the flight of Túrin from Doriath) things went ill for the outlaws. There were rains out of season, and Orcs in greater numbers than before came down from the North and along the old south road over Teiglin, troubling all the woods on the west borders of Doriath. There was little safety or rest, and the company were more often hunted than hunters.

One night as they lay lurking in the fireless dark, Túrin looked on his life, and it seemed to him that it might well be bettered. "I must find some secure refuge," he thought, "and make provision against winter and hunger"; and the next day he led his men away, further than they had yet come from the Teiglin and the marches of Doriath. After three days' journeying they halted at the western edge of the woods of Sirion's Vale. There the land was drier and more bare, as it began to climb up into the moorlands.

Soon after, it chanced that as the grey light of a day of rain was failing Túrin and his men were sheltering in a holly-thicket; and beyond it was a treeless space, in which there were many great stones, leaning or tumbled together. All was still, save for the drip of rain from the leaves. Suddenly a watchman gave a call, and leaping up they saw three hooded shapes, grey-clad, going stealthily among the stones. They were burdened each with a great sack, but they went swiftly for all that.

Túrin cried out to them to halt, and the men ran out on them like hounds; but they held on their way, and though Andróg shot arrows after them two vanished in the dusk. One lagged I behind, being slower or more heavily burdened; and he was soon seized and thrown down, and held by many hands, though he struggled and bit like a beast. But Túrin came up, and rebuked his men. "What have you there?" he said. "What need to be so fierce? It is old and small. What harm is in it?"

"It bites," said Andróg, showing his hand that bled. "It is an Orc, or of Orc-kin. Kill it!"

"It deserved no less, for cheating our hope," said another, who had taken the sack. "There is nothing here but roots and small stones."

"Nay," said Túrin, "it is bearded. It is only a Dwarf, I guess. Let him up, and speak."


So it was that Mîm came in to the Tale of the Children of Húrin. For he stumbled up on his knees before Túrin's feet and begged for his life. "I am old," he said, "and poor. Only a Dwarf, as you say, and not an Orc. Mîm is my name. Do not let them slay me, lord, for no cause, as would the Orcs."

Then Túrin pitied him in his heart, but he said: "Poor you seem, Mîm, though that is strange in a Dwarf; but we are poorer, I think: houseless and friendless Men. If I said that we do not spare for pity's sake only, being in great need, what would you offer for ransom?"

"I do not know what you desire, lord," said Mîm warily.

"At this time, little enough!" said Túrin, looking about him bitterly with rain in his eyes. "A safe place to sleep in out of the damp woods. Doubtless you have such for yourself."

"I have," said Mîm; "but I cannot give it in ransom. I am too old to live under the sky."

"You need grow no older," said Andróg, stepping up with a knife in his unharmed hand. "I can spare you that."

"Lord!" cried Mîm then in great fear. "If I lose my life, you will lose the dwelling; for you will not find it without Mîm. I cannot give it, but I will share it. There is more room in it than once there was: so many have gone for ever," and he began to weep.

"Your life is spared, Mîm," said Túrin.

"Till we come to his lair, at least," said Andróg.

But Túrin turned upon him, and said: "If Mîm brings us to his home without trickery, and it is good, then his life is ransomed; and he shall not be slain by any man who follows me. So I swear."

Then Mîm clasped Túrin about his knees, saying: "Mîm will be your friend, lord. At first I thought you were an Elf, by your speech and your voice; but if you are a Man, that is better. Mîm does not love Elves."

"Where is this house of yours?" said Andróg. "It must be good indeed if Andróg is to share it with a Dwarf. For Andróg does not like Dwarves. His people brought few good tales of that race out of the East."

"Judge my home when you see it," said Mîm. "But you will need light on the way, you stumbling Men. I will return in good time and lead you."

"No, no!" said Andróg. "You will not allow this, surely captain? You would never see the old rascal again."

"It is growing dark," said Túrin. "Let him leave us some pledge. Shall we keep your sack and its load, Mîm?"

But at this the Dwarf fell on his knees again in great trouble. "If Mîm did not mean to return, he would not return for an old sack of roots," he said. "I will come back. Let me go!"

"I will not," said Túrin. "If you will not part with your sack, you must stay with it. A night under the leaves will make you pity us in your turn, maybe." But he marked, and others also, that Mîm set more value on his load than it seemed worth to the eye.

. . .

Then Mîm led them back to the place where he had been captured, and he pointed westward. "There is my home!" he said. "You have often seen it, I guess, for it is tall. Sharbhund we called it, before the Elves changed all the names." Then they saw that he was pointing to Amon Rûdh, the Bald Hill, whose bare head watched over many leagues of the wild.

"We have seen it, but never nearer," said Andróg. "For what safe lair can be there, or water, or any other thing that we need? I guessed that there was some trick. Do men hide on a bill-top?"

. . .

As the afternoon was waning the outlaws drew near to the roots of the hill.

. . .

But as Mîm led them on, and they began to climb the last steep slopes, they perceived that he was following some path by secret signs or old custom. Now his course wound to and fro, and if they looked aside they saw that at either hand dark dells and chines opened, or the land ran down into wastes of great stones, with falls and holes masked by bramble and thorn. There without a guide they might have laboured and clambered for days to find a way.

At length they came to steeper but smoother ground. They passed under the shadows of ancient rowan-trees into aisles of long-legged aeglos: a gloom filled with a sweet scent. Then suddenly there was a rock-wall before them, flat-faced and sheer, towering high above them in the dusk.

"Is this the door of your house?" said Túrin. "Dwarves love stone, it is said." He drew close to Mîm, lest he should play them some trick at the last.

"Not the door of the house, but the gate of the garth," said Mîm. Then he turned to the right along the cliff-foot, and after twenty paces halted suddenly; and Túrin saw that by the work of hands or of weather there was a cleft so shaped that two faces of the wall overlapped, and an opening ran back to the left between them. Its entrance was shrouded by long-trailing plants rooted in crevices above, but within there was a steep stony path going upwards in the dark. Water trickled down it, and it was dank. One by one they filed up. At the top the path turned right and south again, and brought them through a thicket of thorns out upon a green flat, through which it ran on into the shadows. They had come to Mîm's house, Bar-en-Nibin-noeg, which only ancient tales in Doriath and Nargothrond remembered, and no Men had seen.

. . .

Mîm turned his head, and there was a red light in his eyes. "Not unless you can turn back time, and then cut off the cruel hands of your men," he answered. "This is my son, pierced by an arrow. Now he is beyond speech. He died at sunset. Your bonds held me from healing him."

Again pity long hardened welled in Túrin's heart as water from rock. "Alas!" he said. "I would recall that shaft, if I could. Now Bar-en-Danwedh, House of Ransom, shall this be called in truth. For whether we dwell here or no, I will hold myself in your debt; and if ever I come to any wealth, I will pay you a ransom of heavy gold for your son, in token of sorrow, though it gladden your heart no more."

. . .

That night they lay in the hall and slept uneasily for the wailing of Mîm and of Ibun, his other son. When that ceased they could not tell; but when they woke at last the Dwarves were gone, and the chamber was closed by a stone. The day was fair again, and in the morning sun the outlaws washed in the pool and prepared such food as they had; and as they ate Mîm stood before them.

. .

"Then all is yours, to order your dwelling here as you will, save this: the chamber that is closed, none shall open it but me."

"We hear you," said Túrin. "But as for our life here, we are secure, or so it seems; but still we must have food, and other things. How shall we go out; or still more, how shall we return?"

To their disquiet Mîm laughed in his throat. "Do you fear that you have followed a spider to the heart of his web?" he said. "Mîm does not eat Men! And a spider could ill deal with thirty wasps at a time. See, you are armed, and I stand here bare. No, we must share, you and I: house, food, and fire, and maybe other winnings. The house, I think, you will guard and keep secret for your own good, even when you know the ways in and out. You will learn them in time. But in the meanwhile Mîm must guide you, or Ibun his son."

To this Túrin agreed, and he thanked Mîm, and most of his men were glad; for under the sun of morning, while summer was yet high, it seemed a fair place to dwell in. Andróg alone was ill-content. "The sooner we are masters of our goings and comings the better," he said. "Never before have we taken a prisoner with a grievance to and fro on our ventures."


That day they rested, and cleaned their arms and mended their gear; for they had food to last for a day or two yet, and Mîm added to what they had. Three great cooking-pots he lent to them, and firing also; and he brought out a sack. "Rubbish," he said. "Not worth the stealing. Only wild roots."

But when they were cooked these roots proved good to eat, somewhat like bread; and the outlaws were glad of them, for they had long lacked bread save when they could steal it. "Wild Elves know them not; Grey-elves have not found them; the proud ones from over the Sea are too proud to delve," said Mîm.

. . .

Mîm turned and looked at him darkly. "You are one of the fools that spring would not mourn if you perished in winter," he said. "I had spoken my word, and so must have returned, willing or not, with sack or without, let a lawless and faithless man think what he will! But I like not to be parted from my own by force of the wicked, be it no more than a shoe-thong. Do I not remember that your hands were among those that put bonds on me, and so held me that I did not speak again with my son?

. . .

The day passed in peace, and none of the outlaws desired to go abroad. Túrin paced much upon the green sward of the shelf, from brink to brink; and he looked out east, and west, and north, and wondered to find how far were the views in the clear air. ... So began the abiding of Túrin son of Húrin in the halls of Mîm, in Bar-en-Danwedh, the House of Ransom.

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* * * For the story of Túrin from his coming to Bar-en-Danwedh to the fall of Nargothrond see The Silmarillion, pp. 204-15, and the Appendix to the Narn i Hîn Hûrin, p. 158 below.


Turin's life with his outlaw band in their hideout on Bar-en-Danwedh.

["An isolated fragment from the Appendix (of Unfinished Tales) describes the life of the outlaws on Amon Rûdh in the time that followed their settlement there, and gives some further description of Bar-en-Danwedh."]

For a long while the life of the outlaws went well to their liking. Food was not scarce, and they had good shelter, warm and dry, with room enough and to spare; for they found that the caves could have housed a hundred or more at need. There was another smaller hall further in. It had a hearth at one side, above which a smoke-shaft ran up through the rock to a vent cunningly hidden in a crevice on the hillside. There were also many other chambers, opening out of the halls or the passage between them, some for dwelling, some for works or for stores. In storage Mîm had more arts than they, and he had many vessels and chests of stone and wood that looked to be of great age. But most of the chambers were now empty: in the armouries hung axes and other gear rusted and dusty, shelves and aumbries were bare; and the smithies were idle. Save one: a small room that led out of the inner hall and had a hearth which shared the smoke-vent of the hearth in the hall. There Mîm would work a times, but would not allow others to be with him.

During the rest of that year they went on no more raids, and if they stirred abroad for hunting or gathering of food they went for the most part in small parties. But for a long while they found it hard to retrace their road, and beside Túrin not more than six of his men became ever sure of the way. Nonetheless, seeing that those skilled in such things could come to their lair without Mîm's help, they set a watch by day and night near to the cleft in the north-wall. From the south they expected no enemies, nor was there fear of any climbing Amon Rûdh from that quarter; but by day there was at most times a watchman set on the top of the crown, who could look far all about. Steep as were the sides of the crown, the summit could be reached, for to the east of the cave-mouth rough steps had been hewn leading up to slopes where men could clamber unaided.

So the year wore on without hurt or alarm. But as the days drew in, and the pool became grey and cold and the birches bare, and great rains returned, they had to pass more time in shelter. Then they soon grew weary of the dark under hill, or the dim halflight of the halls; and to most it seemed that life would be better if it were not shared with Mîm. Too often he would appear out of some shadowy corner or doorway when they thought him elsewhere; and when Mîm was near unease fell on their talk. They took to speaking one to another ever in whispers.

Yet, and strange it seemed to them, with Túrin it went otherwise; and he became ever more friendly with the old Dwarf, and listened more and more to his counsels. In the winter that followed he would sit for long hours with Mîm, listening to his lore and the tales of his life; nor did Túrin rebuke him if he spoke ill of the Eldar. Mîm seemed well pleased, and showed much favour to Túrin in return; him only would he admit to his smithy at times, and there they would talk softly together. Less pleased were the Men; and Andróg looked on with a jealous eye.

[The text followed in The Silmarillion gives no indication of how Beleg found his way into Bar-en-Danwedh: he "appeared suddenly among them" "in the dim dusk of a winter's day". In other brief outlines the story is that through the improvidence of the outlaws food became short in Bar-en-Danwedh during the winter, and Mîm begrudged them the edible roots from his store; therefore in the beginning of the year they went out on a hunting foray from the stronghold. Beleg, approaching Amon Rûdh, came upon their tracks, and either trailed them to a camp which they were forced to make in a sudden snowstorm, or followed them back to Bar-en-Danwedh and slipped in after them.]

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Turin and Beleg's force becomes a center of resistance against Morgoth's advance.

[Some slight further indications are found concerning Dor-Cúarthol the Land of Bow and Helm, where Beleg and Túrin for a time became from their stronghold on Amon Rûdh the leaders of a strong force in the lands south of Teiglin (The Silmarillion p. 205).]

Túrin received gladly all who came to him, but by the counsel of Beleg he admitted no newcomer to his refuge upon Amon Rûdh (and that was now named Echad i Sedryn, Camp of the Faithful); the way thither only those of the Old Company knew and no others were admitted. But other guarded camps and forts were established round about: in the forest eastward, or in the highlands, or in the southward fens, from Methed-en-glad ("the End of the Wood") to Bar-erib some leagues south of Amon Rûdh; and from all these places men could see the summit of Amon Rûdh, and by signals receive tidings and commands.

In this way, before the summer had passed, the following of Túrin was swelled to a great force; and the power of Angband was thrown back. Word of this came even to Nargothrond, and many there grew restless, saying that if an Outlaw could do such hurt to the Enemy, what might not the Lord of Narog do. But Orodreth would not change his counsels. In all things he followed Thingol, with whom be exchanged messengers by secret ways; and he was a wise lord, according to the wisdom of those who considered first their own people, and how long they might preserve their life and wealth against the lust of the North. Therefore he allowed none of his people to go to Túrin, and he sent messengers to say to him that in all that he might do or devise in his war he should not set foot in the land of Nargothrond, nor drive Orcs thither. But help other than in arms he offered to the Two Captains, should they have need (and in this, it is thought, he was moved by Thingol and Melian).

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Beleg and Turin debate the future of their outlaw band.

[It is several times emphasized that Beleg remained throughout opposed to Túrin's grand design, although he supported him; that it seemed to him that the Dragon-helm had worked otherwise with Túrin than he had hoped; and that he foresaw with a troubled mind what the days to come would bring. Scraps of his words with Túrin on these matters are preserved. In one of these, they sat in the stronghold of Echad i Sedryn together, and Túrin said to Beleg:]

"Why are you sad, and thoughtful? Does not all go well, since you returned to me? Has not my purpose proved good?"

"All is well now," said Beleg. "Our enemies are still surprised, and afraid. And still good days lie before us; for a while."

"And what then?"

"Winter. And after that another year, for those who live to see it."

"And what then?"

"The wrath of Angband. We have burned the finger tips of the Black Hand – no more. It will not withdraw."

"But is not the wrath of Angband our purpose and delight?" said Túrin. "What else would you have me do?"

"You know full well," said Beleg. "But of that road you have forbidden me to speak. But hear me now. The lord of a great host has many needs. He must have a secure refuge; and he must have wealth, and many whose work is not in war. With numbers comes the need of food, more than the wild will furnish; and there comes the passing of secrecy. Amon Rûdh is a good place for a few – it has eyes and ears. But it stands alone, and is seen far off; and no great force is needed to surround it."

"Nonetheless, I will be the captain of my own host," said Túrin; "and if I fall, then I fall. Here I stand in the path of Morgoth, and while I so stand he cannot use the southward road. For that in Nargothrond there should be some thanks; and even help with needful things."

[In another brief passage of speech between them Túrin replied to Beleg's warnings of the frailty of his power in these words:]

"I wish to rule a land; but not this land. Here I desire only to gather strength. To my father's land in Dor-lómin my heart turns, and thither I shall go when I may."

[It is also asserted that Morgoth for a time withheld his hand and made mere feints of attack, "So that by easy victory the confidence of these rebels might become overweening; as it proved indeed."

Andróg appears again in an outline of the course of the assault on Amon Rûdh. It was only then that he revealed to Túrin the existence of the inner stair; and he was one of those who came by that way to the summit. There he is said to have fought more valiantly than any, but he fell at last mortally wounded by an arrow; and thus the curse of Mîm was fulfilled.]

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In Nargothrond, Gwindor and Turin debate the best strategy of resistance to Morgoth.

[There is an account of the nature and substance of Gwindor's opposition to Túrin's policies in Nargothrond, which in The Silmarillion is only very briefly referred to]

[Gwindor:] "You think of yourself and of your own glory, and bid us each do likewise; but we must think of others beside ourselves, for not all can fight and fall, and those we must keep from war and ruin while we can."

"Then send them to your ships, while there is yet time," said Túrin.

"They will not be parted from us," said Gwindor, "even could Círdan sustain them. We must abide together as long as we may, and not court death."

"All this I have answered," said Túrin. "Valiant defence of the borders and hard blows ere the enemy gathers: in that course lies the best hope of your long abiding together. And do those that you speak of love such skulkers in the woods, hunting always like a wolf, better than one who puts on his helm and figured shield, and drives away the foe, be they far greater than all his host? At least the women of the Edain do not. They did not hold back the men from the Nirnaeth Arnoediad."

"But they suffered greater woe than if that field had not been fought," said Gwindor.

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Returning to Hithlum, Turin slays Brodda in his own hall and flees as an outlaw

"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 bastards, 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 sword; 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. ... "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. ... 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.

. . .

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!"

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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 be had: that beyond doubt Morwen and Nienor bad 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."

But too late Túrin now sought for Finduilas, roaming the woods under the eaves of Ered Wethrin, wild and wary as a beast; and he waylaid all the roads that went north to the Pass of Sirion. Too late. For all trails had been washed away by the rains and the snows. But thus it was that Túrin passing down Teiglin came upon some of the People of Haleth from the Forest of Brethil. They were dwindled now by war to a small people, and dwelt for the most part secretly within a stockade upon Amon Obel deep in the forest. Ephel Brandir that place was named; for Brandir son of Handir was now their lord, since his father was slain. And Brandir was no man of war, being lamed by a leg broken in a misadventure in childhood; and he was moreover gentle in mood, loving wood rather than metal, and the knowledge of things that grow in the earth rather than other lore.

But some of the woodmen still hunted the Orcs on their borders; and thus it was that as Túrin came thither he heard the sound of an affray. He hastened towards it, and coming warily through the trees he saw a small band of men surrounded by Orcs. They defended themselves desperately, with their backs to a knot of trees that grew apart in a glade; but the Orcs were in great number, and they had little hope of escape, unless help came. Therefore, out of sight in the underwood, Túrin made a great noise of stamping and crashing, and then he cried in a low voice, as if leading many men: "Ha! Here we find them! Follow me all! Out now, and slay!"

At that many of the Orcs looked back in dismay, and then out came Túrin leaping, waving as if to men behind, and the edges of Gurthang flickered like flame in his hand. Too well was that blade know to the Orcs, and even before he sprang among them many scattered and fled. Then the woodmen ran to join him, and together they hunted their foes into the river: few came across.

At last they halted on the bank, and Dorlas, leader of the woodmen, said: "You are swift in the hunt, lord; but your men are slow to follow. "

"Nay," said Túrin, "we all run together as one man, and will not be parted."

Then the Men of Brethil laughed, and said: "Well, one such is worth many. And we owe you great thanks. But who are you and what do you here?"

"I do but follow my trade, which is Orc-slaying," said Túrin. "And I dwell where my trade is. I am Wildman of the Woods."

"Then come and dwell with us," said they. "For we dwell in the woods, and we have need of such craftsmen. You would be welcome!"

Then Túrin looked at them strangely, and said: "Are there then any left who will suffer me to darken their doors? But, friends, I have still a grievous errand: to find Finduilas, daughter of Orodreth of Nargothrond, or at least to learn news of her. Alas! Many weeks is it since she was taken from Nargothrond, but still I must go seeking."

Then they looked on him with pity, and Dorlas said: "Seek no more. For an Orc-host came up from Nargothrond towards the Crossings of Teiglin, and we had long warning of it: it marched very slow, because of the number of captives that were led. Then we thought to deal our small stroke in the war, and we ambushed the Orcs with all the bowmen we could muster, and hoped to save some of the prisoners. But alas! as soon as they were assailed the foul Orcs slew first the women among their captives; and the daughter of Orodreth they fastened to a tree with a spear."

Túrin stood as one mortally stricken. "How do you know this?" he said.

"Because she spoke to me, before she died," said Dorlas. "She looked upon us as though seeking one whom she had expected, and she said: 'Mormegil. Tell the Mormegil that Finduilas is here.' She said no more. But because of her latest words we laid her where she died. She lies in a mound beside Teiglin. It is a month now ago."

"Bring me there," said Túrin; and they led him to a hillock by the Crossings of Teiglin. There he laid himself down, and a darkness fell on him, so that they thought he was dead. But Dorlas looked down at him as he lay, and then he turned to his men and said: "Too late! This is a piteous chance. But see: here lies the Mormegil himself, the great captain of Nargothrond. By his sword we should have known him, as did the Orcs." For the fame of the Blacksword of the South had gone far and wide, even into the deeps of the wood.

Now therefore they lifted him with reverence and bore him to Ephel Brandir; and Brandir coming out to meet them wondered at the bier that they bore.

...[Turin becomes a warrior and captain of the People of Haleth, until the end of his tale]

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