ripe, he released H?rin from his bondage, bidding him go whither he would; and he feigned that in this he was moved by pity as for an enemy utterly defeated. But he lied, for his purpose was that H?rin should still further his hatred for Elves and Men, ere he died.
Then little though he trusted the words of Morgoth, knowing indeed that he was without pity, H?rin took his freedom, and went forth in grief, embittered by the words of the Dark Lord; and a year was now gone since the death of T?rin his son. For twenty-eight years he had been captive in Angband, and he was grown grim to look upon. His hair and beard were white and long, but he walked unbowed, bearing a great black staff; and he was girt with a sword. Thus he passed into Hithlum, and tidings came to the chieftains of the Easterlings that there was a great riding of captains and black soldiers of Angband over the sands of Anfauglith, and with them came an old man, as one that was held in high honour. Therefore they did not lay hands on H?rin, but let him walk at will in those lands; in which they were wise, for the remnant of his own people shunned him, because of his coming from Angband as one in league and honour with Morgoth.
Thus his freedom did but increase the bitterness of H?rin's heart; and he departed from the land of Hithlum and went up into the mountains. Thence he descried far off. amid the clouds the peaks of the Crissaegrim, and he remembered Turgon; and he desired to come again to the hidden realm of Gondolin. He went down therefore from Ered Wethrin, and he knew not that the creatures of Morgoth watched all his steps; and crossing over the Brithiach he passed into Dimbar, and came to the dark feet of the Echoriath. All the land was cold and desolate, and he looked about him with little hope, standing at the foot of a great fall of stones beneath a sheer rock-wall; and he knew not that this was all that was now left to see of the old Way of Escape: the Dry River was blocked, and the arched gate was buried. Then H?rin looked up to the grey sky, thinking that he might once more descry the eagles, as he had done long ago in his youth; but he saw only the shadows blown from the east, and clouds swirling about the inaccessible peaks, and he heard only the wind hissing over the stones.
But the watch of the great eagles was now redoubled, and they marked H?rin well, far below, forlorn in the fading light; and straightway Thorondor himself, since the tidings seemed great, brought word to Turgon. But Turgon said: 'Does Morgoth sleep? You were mistaken.'
'Not so,' said Thorondor. 'If the Eagles of Manw? were wont to err thus, then long ago, lord, your hiding would have been in vain.'
'Then your words bode ill,' said Turgon; 'for they can bear but one meaning. Even H?rin Thalion has surrendered to the will of Morgoth. My heart is shut.'
But when Thorondor was gone, Turgon sat long in thought, and he was troubled, remembering the deeds of H?rin of Dor-l?min; and he opened his heart, and sent to the eagles to seek for H?rin, and to bring him if they might to Gondolin. But it was too late, and they never saw him again in light or in shadow.
For H?rin stood in despair before the silent cliffs of the Echoriath, and the westering sun, piercing the clouds, stained his white hair with red. Then he cried aloud in the wilderness, heedless of any ears, and he cursed the pitiless land; and standing at last upon a high rock he looked towards Gondolin and called in a great voice: 'Turgon, Turgon, remember the Fen of Serech! O Turgon, will you not hear in your hidden halls?' But there was no sound save the wind in the dry grasses. 'Even so they hissed in Serech at the sunset,' he said; and as he spoke the sun went behind the Mountains of Shadow, and a darkness fell about him, and the wind ceased, and there was silence in the waste.
Yet there were ears that heard the words that H?rin spoke, and report of all came soon to the Dark Throne in the north; and Morgoth smiled, for he knew now clearly in what region Turgon dwelt,