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.But ere dawn it grew bitter cold, and he turned inhis sleep, and the hilts of Gurthang drove into his side, and suddenly heawoke.Night was going, and there was a breath of morning in the air; and hesprang to his feet, remembering his victory, and the burning venom on his hand.He raised it up, and looked at it, and marvelled.For it was bound about with astrip of white cloth, yet moist, and it was at ease; and he said to himself:"Why should one tend me so, and yet leave me here to lie cold amid the wrackand the dragon-stench? What strange things have chanced?"Then he called aloud, but there was no answer.All was black and drear abouthim, and there was a reek of death.He stooped and lifted his sword, and it waswhole, and the light of its edges was undimmed."Foul was the venom ofGlaurung," he said, "but you are stronger than I, Gurthang! All blood will youdrink.Yours is the victory.But come! I must go seek for aid.My body isweary, and there is a chill in my bones."Then he turned his back upon Glaurung and left him to rot; but as he passedfrom that place each step seemed more heavy, and he thought: "At Nen Girith,maybe, I will find one of the scouts awaiting me.But would I were soon in myown house, and might feel the gentle bands of Níniel, and the good skill ofBrandir!" And so at last, walking wearily, leaning on Gurthang, through thegrey light of early day he came to Nen Girith, and even as men were settingforth to seek his dead body, he stood before the people.Then they gave back in terror, believing that it was his unquiet spirit, andthe women wailed and covered their eyes.But he said: "Nay, do not weep, but beglad! See! Do I not live? And have I not slain the Dragon that you feared?"Then they turned upon Brandir, and cried: "Fool, with your false tales, sayingthat he lay dead.Did we not say that you were mad?" But Brandir was aghast,and stared at Túrin with fear in his eyes, and he could say nothing.But Túrin said to him: "It was you then that were there, and tended my hand? Ithank you.But your skill is failing, if you cannot tell swoon from death."Then he turned to the people: "Speak not so to him, fools all of you.Which ofyou would have done better? At least he had the heart to come down to the placeof battle, while you sit wailing!"But now, son of Handir, come! There is more that I would learn.Why are youhere, and all this people, whom I left at the Ephel? If I may go into the perilof death for your sakes, may I not be obeyed when I am gone? And where isNíniel? At the least I may hope that you did not bring her hither, but left herwhere I bestowed her, in my house, with true men to guard it?" And when no oneanswered him, "Come, say where is Níniel?" he cried."For her first I wouldsee; and to her first will I tell the tale of the deeds in the night."But they turned their faces from him, and Brandir said at last: "Níniel is nothere.""That is well then," he said."Then I will go to my home.Is there a horse tobear me? Or a bier would be better.I faint with my labours.""Nay, nay!" said Brandir in anguish."Your house is empty.Níniel is not there.She is dead."But one of the women - the wife of Dorlas, who loved Brandir little - criedshrilly: "Pay no heed to him, lord! For he is crazed.He came crying that youwere dead, and called it good tidings.But you live.Why then should his taleof Níniel be true: that she is dead, and yet worse?"Then Túrin strode towards Brandir: "So my death was good tidings?" he cried."Yes, ever you did begrudge her to me, that I knew.Now she is dead, you say.And yet worse? What lie have you begotten in your malice.Club-foot? Would youslay us then with foul words, since you can wield no other weapon?"Then anger drove pity from Brandir's heart, and he cried: "Crazed? Nay, crazedare you, Black Sword of black doom! And all this dotard people.I do not lie!Níniel is dead, dead, dead! Seek her in Teiglin!"Then Túrin stood still and cold."How do you know?" he said softly."How didyou contrive it?""I know because I saw her leap," answered Brandir."But the contriving wasyours.She fled from you, Túrin son of Húrin, and in Cabed-en-Aras she castherself, that she might never see you again.Níniel! Níniel? Nay, Nienordaughter of Húrin."Then Túrin seized him and shook him; for in those words he heard the feet ofhis doom overtaking him, but in horror and fury his heart would not receivethem, as a beast hurt to death that will wound ere it dies all that are nearit."Yes, I am Túrin son of Húrin," he cried."So long ago you guessed.But nothingdo you know of Nienor my sister.Nothing! She dwells in the Hidden Kingdom, andis safe.It is a lie of your own vile mind, to drive my wife witless, and nowme.You limping evil - would you dog us both to death?"But Brandir shook him off."Touch me not!" he said."Stay your raving.She thatyou name wife came to you and tended you, and you did not answer her call.Butone answered for you.Glaurung the Dragon, who I deem bewitched you both toyour doom.So he spoke, before he ended: 'Nienor daughter of Húrin, here is thybrother: treacherous to foes, faithless to friends, a curse unto his kin, Túrinson of Húrin.'" Then suddenly a fey laughter seized on Brandir."On theirdeathbed men will speak true, they say," he cackled
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