The Book of Lost Tales - J. R. Tolkien [139]
‘Remember ye all how Úrin the Steadfast cast the gold of Glorund before the feet of Tinwelint, and after would not touch it again, but went in sorrow back to Hisilómë, and there died?’ And all said that that tale was still fresh in their hearts.
‘Behold then,’ said Ailios, ‘in great grief gazed the king upon Úrin as he left the hall, and he was weary for the evil of Melko that thus deceived all hearts; yet tells the tale that so potent were the spells that Mîm the fatherless had woven about that hoard that, even as it lay upon the floor of the king’s halls shining strangely in the light of the torches that burnt there, already were all who looked upon it touched by its subtle evil.
Now therefore did those of Úrin’s band murmur, and one said to the king: “Lo, lord, our captain Úrin, an old man and mad, has departed, but we have no mind to forego our gain.”
Then said Tinwelint, for neither was he untouched by the golden spell: “Nay then, know ye not that this gold belongs to the kindred of the Elves in common, for the Rodothlim who won it from the earth long time ago are no more, and no one has especial claim1 to so much as a handful save only Úrin by reason of his son Túrin, who slew the Worm, the robber of the Elves; yet Túrin is dead and Úrin will have none of it; and Túrin was my man.”
At those words the outlaws fell into great wrath, until the king said: “Get ye now gone, and seek not O foolish ones to quarrel with the Elves of the forest, lest death or the dread enchantments of Valinor find you in the woods. Neither revile ye the name of Tinwelint their king, for I will reward you richly enough for your travail and the bringing of the gold. Let each one now approach and take what he may grasp with either hand, and then depart in peace.”
Now were the Elves of the wood in turn displeased, who long had stood nigh gazing on the gold; but the wild folk did as they were bid, and yet more, for some went into the hoard twice and thrice, and angry cries were raised in that hall. Then would the woodland Elves hinder them of their thieving, and a great dissension arose, so that though the king would stay them none heeded him. Then did those outlaws being fierce and fearless folk draw swords and deal blows about them, so that soon there was a great fight even upon the steps of the high-seat of the king. Doughty were those outlaws and great wielders of sword and axe from their warfare with Orcs,2 so that many were slain ere the king, seeing that peace and pardon might no longer be, summoned a host of his warriors, and those outlaws being wildered with the stronger magics of the king3 and confused in the dark ways of the halls of Tinwelint were all slain fighting bitterly; but the king’s hall ran with gore, and the gold that lay before his throne, scattered and spurned by trampling feet, was drenched with blood. Thus did the curse of Mîm the Dwarf begin its course; and yet another sorrow sown by the Noldoli of old in Valinor was come to fruit.4
Then were the bodies of the outlaws cast forth, but the woodland Elves that were slain Tinwelint let bury nigh to the knoll of Tinúviel, and ’tis said that the great mound stands there still in Artanor, and for long the fairies called it Cûm an-Idrisaith, the Mound of Avarice.
Now came Gwenniel to Tinwelint and said: “Touch not this gold, for my heart tells me it is trebly cursed. Cursed indeed by the dragon’s breath, and cursed by thy lieges’ blood that moistens it, and the death of those5 they slew; but some more bitter and more binding ill methinks hangs over it that I may not see.”
Then, remembering the wisdom of Gwenniel his wife, the king was minded to hearken to her, and he bade gather it up and cast it into the stream before the gates. Yet even so he might not shake off its spell, and he said to himself: “First will I gaze my last upon its loveliness ere I fling it from me for ever.” Therefore he let wash it