Father to the fatherless, defender of widows—

this is God, whose dwelling is holy.

God places the lonely in families;

he sets the prisoners free and gives them joy.

Psalm 68:5-6a NLT

Prologue

In the four years since the War of the Ring, the kingdom of Gondor had flourished. The White Tree bloomed and the city of Minas Tirith shone even brighter, undimmed by any darkness from the distant mountains of Mordor. The surrounding lands were fair and bright and the reign of King Aragorn brought peace and prosperity to all.

At least that was what Peregrin Took had heard since he last visited. Yet as he rode up to the gates of Minas Tirith on an overcast day in early December, the city hung in grey gloom. The sky was rumbling and the scent of coming rain was in the air. A heaviness hung over the city, a foreboding tension that was nothing like the fair bright prosperity that Peregrin had heard tell of. He approached the massive wooden doors of the city gate and the gatekeeper called out to him. Peregrin identified himself and he was allowed to enter.

As the gates opened and the hobbit rode inside, he was greeted by a tall man with shoulder length blond hair. His uniform made it clear that he was someone important.

"Greetings!" the man said with a bow. "I am Maleth, warden of the first level. It is an honor to meet you Sir Peregrin."

Peregrin dismounted and handed the reigns of his pony off to a nearby attendant. He straightened his Gondorian uniform and adjusted the short sword that hung at his side.

Looking up at the man he said, "Well met. I dare say I expected to find the city in better spirits. This is terrible weather you have."

"Indeed it is," Maleth said as he and the hobbit began to walk further into the courtyard that lay behind the city gates. "Such weather has hung over Minas Tirith for some time. We cannot explain it. Perhaps it is just the change of season."

"Perhaps," the hobbit said. Something was making Peregrin feel uneasy, yet he couldn't put his finger on it. The next words that Maleth said didn't help his mood.

"May I ask what brings you to Minas Tirith, Sir Peregrin?"

Peregrin stopped walking and looked up at the man in confusion.

"I received a letter from King Aragorn himself," the hobbit said. "He bid me come to Minas Tirith and lend him my service."

Maleth was equally confused. "I'm afraid that's not possible. The King is away north in Ithilien. If he had sent such a note surely he would have been here to receive you or informed me that you would be coming."

Peregrin reached into the pocket that had been sewn into the inside of his cloak. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Maleth. "Is this not the King's seal?" he said pointing to what was left of the wax circle on the edge of the note.

Maleth eyed the document intently. "It...it is indeed. How could…"

Maleth was cut off by the sound of a distant horn. It blew in three short echoing bursts. Peregrin looked around to see what it might be for. Yet as he observed the men around him, he realized that something was very wrong. Several of them were rushing to the gate and looking out. Others were yelling something that the hobbit couldn't distinguish. The large gates of the city were pulled shut.

"What is that?" Peregrin asked.

"It's the signal that the city is under attack," Maleth said slowly. A soldier ran past them and Maleth pulled him aside. "Soldier, what is happening? Why was the signal for attack sounded?"

"I don't know my Lord," the young man said. "They have shut the outer gates, yet we cannot see where the attack is coming from. The signal came from high up on the fifth level so they must have seen something."

Peregrin and Maleth walked briskly to the base of the outer wall and looked up. Nearly every soldier on the first level was on top of the wall looking out over the Pelennor.

"Coreon! What do you see?" Maleth called to one of the higher ranking soldiers.

"Nothing my Lord," the man called back. "There is nothing on the plain. Nothing that any of us can…"

The man named Coreon was cut off by the same three horns that had sounded before. Peregrin looked up at the fifth level where the sound was coming from. What were they seeing up there that couldn't be seen from below?

Maleth was becoming irritated. There was obviously no attack upon the city, the plains were empty, and this confusion was only causing disorganization. Several of the citizens of Minas Tirith were becoming concerned now. They walked by quickly as they tried to get home as soon as they could. It was standard protocol to return to your home and remain there if the alarm was raised indicating that the city was under attack.

The signal horns came a third time, yet now they were accompanied by another sound. When Peregrin heard it, he reflexively drew his sword and braced himself for the worst.

Up above them, people were crying out in panic. Maleth heard it too and he suddenly realized what was happening.

"The attack is coming from the fifth level! At arms! At arms!"

The large courtyard before the city gates was now chaotic. People were running, soldiers were arming themselves, and everywhere was shouting and confusion. It had all happened so fast that Peregrin barely had time to process it.

Maleth was about to give the order for every soldier to make their way up to the fifth level, when the source of the attack finally showed itself. From a nearby street, the screams of citizens and soldiers escalated. People were running in terror and shutting themselves up in any building they could find.

And behind them came the creatures.

There were hundreds of them; some as big as horses. As one they crashed into the courtyard and soon overwhelmed every person who stood in their way.

Peregrin and Maleth ran for their lives. After getting out of the courtyard, they ducked beneath a pillared arch on a nearby street trying to catch their breath.

"There are - too many of them," Maleth panted.

"What are they," Peregrin asked, his eyes wide with fear.

The hobbit's question was soon answered. A soldier ran past their hiding place. One of the huge beasts pounced on him like a cat pounces on a mouse. The poor soldier went down and Peregrin saw that it was the young man they had spoken to earlier.

They could now see what manner of beasts these were. The creature before them was like a bird, yet it walked on four legs. It had a sharp jagged beak and a wide curved head. Feathered wings jutted from its back, but these were withered and plucked and they flopped uselessly as the beast moved. Its front feet were like the taloned claws of a bird of prey and its back legs were like the haunches of a lion. It uttered a horrible screeching sound that made Peregrin shiver.

As the soldier struggled to get free, the creature calmly kept its front right foot firmly fixed on the young man's back. Then without warning the beast thrust its beak down and gripped the man's head in its jaws. It snapped his neck in one swift and deadly motion before the man could utter a cry.

Peregrin was running now. Horror had overtaken him and all he wanted to do was get away. As he ran up the street, he could hear Maleth behind him yelling for him to keep running. Suddenly the man screamed and Peregrin dared to look back. One of the beasts stood over the fallen form of the man, its long claws dug deep into his back. Maleth was dead and the creature that had slain him had its cold eyes fixed on Peregrin. The halfling could see it in the beast's gaze. He was next.

Scrambling over the cobblestone street, Peregrin tried to concentrate on just staying alive. Dread was overtaking him, weakening his limbs and blurring his eyesight. The city had fallen deathly silent. Every person had either taken shelter or been killed. All Peregrin could hear was his own ragged breathing as he willed his feet to move.

He came to a dead end. The high stone buildings blocked his path of escape. He turned and faced the creature. It was creeping toward him low to the ground, like a huge cat ready to tear apart its prey.

This is not how you are supposed to die.

Peregrin glanced up and around him. He had heard someone speaking, but there was no one there.

This is wrong.

The creature was still moving toward him slowly. Peregrin dared to call out, "Who's there? Who's...who's speaking?"

I haven't forgotten you.

"Please, help me," he called out as he held his sword in front of him. He didn't know who he was talking to, but the words seemed to spring from his throat. "Whoever you are, please! Help me!"

The creature pounced and Peregrin swung his sword. He dealt the beast a solid blow. He cut a large gash in the monster's huge beak and it staggered back. The hobbit saw his chance and made a mad dash past his attacker and back the way he came.

A taloned claw shot out from the side and struck him. Peregrin was thrown in the air and slammed against a nearby wall. He fell to the ground dazed and as he tried to get up his head swam. He staggered and then fell to his knees. There was something warm and wet on his uniform. He looked down and saw that the beast had torn his side with its claw and he was losing blood.

The creature struck him again, this time hurling him across the stone street and back into the dead end. It was trying to corner him again. The hobbit was lying on his back now, too weak to fight or run away as the beast drew closer to finish him off.

Then a memory echoed in Peregrin's mind. Words spoken to him in a place far removed from the dark situation he was in now.

"Eru is in control and He hasn't forgotten us."

The creature was leaning over him now. One of its large horrible eyes was dangerously close to Peregrin's face.

"Please help me," he whispered hoarsely. "Eru... save me."

In the fading world around him, Peregrin thought he heard a loud boom, but there was no way to tell where it came from. Something was screaming near him. His head fell to one side as his vision grew darker. Then suddenly in his mind's eye, as clear as day, he saw the courtyard behind the city gates. And standing in the courtyard was... Claeo? It was! She was bright and shining like he had seen her in a time undone. She was walking up out of the courtyard with her sword out in front of her. And the strangest reality of all was that he felt that if he wanted to, he could speak to her. He was obviously delusional from loss of blood. Yet with his last ounce of strength, Peregrin said, "Claeo. Help."

Exhaustion finally overtook him and Peregrin heard and saw no more.