The Crow's Flight by Himring

The Crow's Flight

The birds of Dunland, in their own fashion, had memories that were as long or longer than the Men of Dunland. In quiet dwellings in green Dunland, the crebain still remembered that some ancestors of theirs had once nested in trees in lands Men called Enedwaith and that Numenoreans had come, felling the trees, forcing the crebain eastward, and sometimes putting them in cages, treating the birds of the land no better than the Men and sometimes worse. The crebain were even warier of strangers than the Men of Dunland, although, to be sure, they were twice as curious also.

They were well aware that the Wizard in the Tower had come among the Men, making promises. Yet they would not have listened to anything he might have to say, except for a greedy youngster or two, maybe, if it had not been for Radagast. The Bird Wizard had not been among them for long years, but when he had first explored Dunland, soon after his arrival in Middle-earth, he had spent much effort in winning their trust. Now, when Radagast sent messages, it did not occur to the crebain that they themselves knew things about Saruman Radagast did not.

Thus deceived, the crebain sought out Isengard in flocks and listened to the Many-Coloured One. Soon they were ensnared by honeyed words and promises, consenting to spy for Saruman far and wide. North and west into Eriador he sent them, and always he sent them out in regiments or patrols, in twos and threes, never on their own. Passing the memory of his voice back and forth between them, they saw what he wished them to see and returned to Isengard to report, as if it were their own purpose, while in Dunland nests remained empty and fledglings became few.

Saruman sent them out again in the midst of winter and they flew ceaselessly to and fro over Hollin, with little time for food or rest. If Saruman did not know exactly what he was looking for, the crebain knew less. Who exactly was this band of travellers who needed stopping and why? But they could hardly think.

How did it happen? A gust of wind whistling among stones that had been once elvish? An echo below, scarcely sensed, of the voice of a true friend? By coincidence or nudge of fate, an old craban dropped away from the rest.

No sooner was she away from the others, Khaw began to think, think furiously. She dropped down and hid herself among the holly. Why were they here? For the sake of a wizard? The moment she considered them, both Saruman’s promises and threats revealed themselves as empty. These travellers would not come to rob her nest. She did like shiny things, true, but jewels meant nothing to her.

She would not continue the hunt, but she also hesitated to re-join her comrades, for she was filled with a deep unease, recognizing how muddled their thoughts had been for so long.

She would seek Radagast, she decided, to challenge him or ask his advice, as the case might be. Had he known what he was doing when he sent them to Orthanc? If not, he needed to be told. Flitting low between bushes, Khaw went north in secret aiming for the High Pass.

The mountains were as dangerous a journey for one lone craban as they were for travellers on foot. If she had less to fear from hazards on the ground, she had more to fear from the air: arrows, stone giants, blizzards, eagles. But Khaw flew higher and higher.

‘Welcome to Ravenhill, flight-sister,’ said Crunc Carcsdaughter politely.

The war was over, everywhere. Saruman had fallen. Radagast had gone to Dunland; there was much to mend there among her kin. Khaw would have found it difficult to explain why she had chosen not to accompany him. Fortunately, nobody had pressed her for answers.

She had made herself a valued messenger in the war in the North, flying dangerous missions between besieged Erebor, embattled Mirkwood and their other scattered allies. Now the Ravens of Erebor seemed happy to offer her a home among them.

Khaw found she was happy to accept.

Chapter End Notes

Both the bird names here are early forms of bird words from Tolkien's languages.

Khaw is Primitive Adunaic for "crow". (Dunlendish might have been more appropriate, but who knows, Dunlendish might have a similar form.)

Crunc is Gnomish for "crow", chosen for a Raven of Erebor, because the names we have all end in -c. Crunc is the daughter of Carc II (name assigned by me in an earlier drabble), the unnamed messenger Roac sent to the Iron Hills in The Hobbit.

This piece is 7 x 100 words in Word.

I have incorporated the prompt "empty promises" from a Tolkien100 challenge on Dreamwidth/Livejournal.