Читать книгу The Lays of Beleriand онлайн | страница 28

‘No noise I hear’, the Gnome answered,‘thy hope cheats thee.’ ‘I hear the chainsclinking, creaking, the cords straining,920and wolves padding on worn pathways.I smell the blood that is smeared on bladesthat are cruel and crooked; the croaking laughter –now, listen! louder and louder comes,’the hunter said. ‘I hear no sound’,925quoth Flinding fearful. ‘Then follow after!’with bended bow then Beleg answered,‘my cunning rekindles, my craft needs notthy lamp’s leading.’ Leaping swiftlyhe shrank in the shadows; with shrouded lantern930Flinding followed him, and the forest-darknessand drowsy dimness drifted slowlyunfolding from them in fleeing shadows,and its magic was minished, till they marvelling sawthey were brought to its borders. There black-gaping935an archway opened. By ancient trunksit was framed darkly, that in far-off daysthe lightning felled, now leaning gaunttheir lichen-leprous limbs uprooted.There shadowy bats that shrilled thinly940flew in and flew out the air brushingas they swerved soundless. A swooning lightfaint filtered in, for facing Norththey looked o’er the leagues of the lands of mourning,o’er the bleak boulders, o’er the blistered dunes945and dusty drouth of Dor-na-Fauglith;o’er that Thirsty Plain, to the threatening peaks,now glimpséd grey through the grim archway,of the marching might of the Mountains of Iron,and faint and far in the flickering dusk950the thunderous towers of Thangorodrim.But backward broad through the black shadowsfrom that darkling door dimly wanderedthe ancient Orc-road; and even as they gazedthe silence suddenly with sounds of dread955was shaken behind them, and shivering echoesfrom afar came fleeting. Feet were tramping;trappings tinkling; and the troublous murmurof viewless voices in the vaulted gloomcame near and nearer. ‘Ah! now I hear’,960said Flinding fearful; ‘flee we swiftlyfrom hate and horror and hideous faces,from fiery eyes and feet relentless!Ah! woe that I wandered thus witless hither!’

Then beat in his breast, foreboding evil,965with dread unwonted the dauntless heartof Beleg the brave. With blanchéd cheeksin faded fern and the feathery leavesof brown bracken they buried them deep,where dank and dark a ditch was cloven970on the wood’s borders by waters oozing,dripping down to die in the drouth below.Yet hardly were they hid when a host to viewround a dark turning in the dusky shadowscame swinging sudden with a swift thudding975of feet after feet on fallen leaves.In rank on rank of ruthless spearsthat war-host went; weary stumblingcountless captives, cruelly ladenwith bloodstained booty, in bonds of iron980they haled behind them, and held in wardby the wolf-riders and the wolves of Hell.Their road of ruin was a-reek with tears:many a hall and homestead, many a hidden refugeof Gnomish lords by night beleaguered985their o’ermastering might of mirth bereft,and fair things fouled, and fields curdledwith the bravest blood of the beaten people.