In the days after the incident with the water, Talin had grown increasingly interested in Leo. He wasn't entirely sure why the thought of befriending the soldier had ever crossed his mind in the first place – when he'd first met him in the enlistment office, he'd noticed something odd about Leo, something he couldn't quite place. But anyways, he proved to be quite a good acquaintance to have. He was a good fighter, though perhaps a little more spindly than most, and he was quite clever. Most of the men here could barely read, but Leo was quite literate, and he could even do maths as well, though he tried to hide it for some reason.

"I taught myself," was what he'd said when Talin had asked him where he'd learned such things, but he'd looked uncomfortable, so Talin had quickly dropped the subject.

Hafa, Garin, Leo, and Talin were a decent team – though Talin and Leo held it up the most. Talin found himself being forced to keep Hafa under control since he was slightly violent and didn't seem to know his own strength, and Leo was the yin to Garin's yang, so to speak. Still, at the times when their separate abilities were balanced in the right way, they proved to be quite a formidable force, though defeating seven orcs with only the four of them was still out of their grasp.

"Hey, Garin," Leo said. "How old are you, mate?"

"Sixteen," Garin replied nervously. "How come?"

"Just wondering," Leo shrugged. "How about you, Hafa?"

"Twenty four," said Hafa. "Think I'm the oldest."

"Probably," said Leo. "You, Talin?"

"Nineteen," said Talin.

"A year older than me," Leo grinned. "Fancy that, huh?"

Talin had noticed that the way Leo spoke had changed, too. It was blunter and shorter, more common, more likely to hold swear words or terms of endearment (like the aforementioned 'mate'), unlike the eloquent manner of speaking he'd held when Talin had first met him. That disappointed Talin. He'd enjoyed having another person to speak with more intelligently. Perhaps that had just been his imagination.

"You're a bit young, aren't you, Garin?" Talin asked. Garin shrugged his shoulders, looking slightly jittery. The boy was always on edge, for some reason.

"Yeah, I reckon. But you're allowed to join up at sixteen, and I need the money."

"Ah," Talin didn't press for details.

"Oi, what's that?" Hafa pointed to a gathering mob of black specks on the horizon. Talin squinted, trying to make out individual shapes, and nearly fell off the large rock he was using as a perch.

"Orcs!" he said.

"Goat turds! Again? Garin, you know the drill," Leo said, turning towards the boy. Garin nodded and sped off. It turned out he was the fastest of the bunch, so they'd elected him for use whenever a message needed to be carried. Leo then turned back to Talin. "Should we scout out some more info or scurry off ourselves?"

"Scurry off," Hafa gulped, raising his hand. "That's an entire bleeding army!"

It was true. There were orcs – lots of orcs. Talin couldn't be sure, but he thought it was at least a thousand. There were no more than three hundred soldiers stationed in Osgiliath. They would be overrun.

"Belan will call for aid," Talin assured Hafa. "It will all turn out fine."

"That's not what I'm saying, you daft wanker," Leo rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't suggest we take on the whole bloody lot of 'em, but while we've got the time, why not check out what kind of arsenal they've got?"

"That's suicide!" at the word 'suicide', spoken by Hafa, Leo froze. Then he glared up at the big man.

"Aye, maybe, but if we can get a good idea of how strong they are, perhaps we can save some other men," he snapped.

"Well, with all that arguing you two sots have been doing, I believe it's a bit too late," Talin said. The orcs were closer now, easily recognizable as orcs, charging into the city on horseback.

"Let's go," said Hafa.

"Agreed," said Leo, his eyes wide with fear. And without another word, the three were off, scampering through the rubble of collapsed structures towards the camp. Just as they reached it, a loud horn went off, calling the other squads to report back. Garin scurried past them, and Hafa grabbed his arm.

"Where do you think you're going, kid?" he said. Garin looked up at him fearfully and Talin knocked the larger man's hand away.

"The Captain has sent me off to Ithilian, to request aid from the rangers there," he was white-faced and trembling. "He's not optimistic. He says the orcs are gonna kill us all!"

"Well, they might if you don't hurry!" said Leo. "I bet with the rangers' help we'll do just fine. Now move it, chicken legs!"

"Why the sudden faith in the rangers?" Talin murmured into Leo's ear as they went back to their individual sleeping spots to put on their more heavy armor.

"I know one or two of them," he shrugged. "They're much more capable than us lowly little foot soldiers."

Lowly little foot soldier. If only he knew.

They put their breastplates, shin guards, arm guards, and helmets on quickly. They didn't have much else in the way of protection – constructing an entire suit of armor for every member of the military would be much too expensive. They were lucky for getting so much – the people who were now being drafted into the army would only have the thick leather vests and their weapons between them and becoming just another body collected by orcs.

Sometimes Talin wondered why he was even participating in this war. It wasn't his place to die for Gondor. In fact, if the world had not turned upside down when his parents died, he would be with his father, negotiating ways to bring Harad out of the war, to draw it back into its little shell where they had little contact with the surrounding lands. But the world was upside down, and there was nothing he could do to change it. Not now, at least. One little man was nothing against his uncle's forces. He had to face the facts and realize he would never be a Haradrim king.

"Quit daydreaming, mate, we've gotta dash," Leo grabbed Talin roughly and dragged him out of the amphitheater and back to camp where they met Hafa, who relayed to them the orders Belan had given him. They were to head down to the port with three other squads, two of four men and one of five, pick off any orcs that came around that area and guard for an assault from the water. That made twenty one men and an unknown amount of hostiles. They could be completely overrun, or be sitting there with nothing to do. Talin was greatly hoping for the second option.

The four squads met up and moved down to the port in tight formation. They met five stray orcs on the way down, but they cut them down immediately with no casualties of their own. Once they reached the harbor, they found twenty orcs already there, talking, laughing, and generally being vile with each other. One soldier, a tall, well-built fellow from another squadron that Talin didn't recognize, took the helm and whispered orders. Talin, Leo, Hafa, and the fifth member of the sole five-member squad went to the right, another four people went to the left, and eight stayed there. Then, the tall fellow whistled the signal and they all jumped out.

The tall fellow didn't make it. He was the only death, thankfully, but it still disheartened Talin. Now they'd need a new leader, and no one seemed willing to step up. Talin was getting ready to volunteer Leo, for the job when he beat him to it. The blonde grabbed Talin with his left hand and raised his right hand.

"This one's a wicked good leader," he said. Talin blinked. Where was that coming from? In the only real battle they'd been in, Talin had been knocked out nearly immediately. Garin was more qualified for the job than him. And it was Leo who had deceived the orcs into thinking he was taken care of and then followed them, warning everyone in time to keep them from poisoning the only fresh, clean water source.

But there was a general rumble of ascent and Leo didn't give him a chance to object, so before he knew it, he was leading the nineteen other men. Luckily, that didn't entitle much. The other orcs must have had faith in their comrades, because although the din of more battle was easily heard, no others came to the port. The men simply stood stiffly at the ready, too scared to relax, for hours, until night fell. Darkness shrouded the entire place and it was completely quiet save for the lapping of the water against the shore. Had the battle been finished? No one had come to fetch them, or kill them, so was it even possible?

Then he heard it. The sloshing of the water became slightly irregular and odd, and there was the occasional inexplicable splash. Talin turned to Leo.

"Orcs," he breathed. "Boats. In the water."

Talin could sense Leo straining his ears. "Aye," he whispered. "And a lot of them, too."

"Hide," he said. "Pass it on."

Leo repeated the age to Hafa, who repeated it to the man next to him, and so on and so forth until the herd had spread thin and all the men were hidden behind pillars.

Talin nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a gloved hand press itself across his mouth. His eyes certainly widened with terror. But then he saw that the black shape in front of him was moving quietly, not rattling with excess metal, and he didn't smell like orc. It was a man. From the quiet nature of his appearance, Talin could guess that he was one of the rangers. The shape pressed a finger to its lips and indicated the incoming boats. Then he waved around the area where his sword must have been. Talin nodded quickly that he understood, and the two men shared the pillar.

"Ready?" whispered the man. Talin heard the sound of the boats on the gravel. Footsteps. The man jumped out from behind the pillar and shouted, "ATTACK!"

There were several loud battle cries and the rest of the men leaped out. He was surprised how many rangers had come – at least fifty, perhaps seventy five… maybe even a hundred. It was hard to tell. But there were more orcs. Many more orcs. Many, many more orcs. They were ridiculously outnumbered.

Talin heard the sound of metal against metal before he felt the shock wave travel through his arms, pushing him backwards. The orc in front of him was grinning freakishly and coming in for another go. Talin blocked that one, too. He found himself thinking less like a common soldier and more like how his fencing teacher had taught him, analyzing his opponent's strengths, weaknesses, and the nicks in his armor. Soon he had no doubt he could beat this orc, and fairly easily, too. It was heavyset, and whenever it swung its sword it took a while to recover. Talin waited for a particularly large attempt and then flickered to the side, stabbing his sword into the thing's gut.

He felt sick. Although he knew the orcs were evil, and that they were trying to kill him, ending a life still made him feel weak. He pushed it away, though, because more orcs were closing in on him. And not just one at a time which he now felt he could handle easily, but two at a time, or even three. When five orcs attacked him from several different angles… that was when he knew they were going to lose. He employed every fighting technique ever taught to him and found that he was much better off than most of those around him, but he knew he would fall eventually.

Suddenly, Talin felt as if all the food he'd ever eaten was rising into his throat and threatening to spew out. He could barely hear the sound of wings beating the air over his own pounding heart and the sounds of the orcs attacking him, but he knew what was up there. He'd studied them under his History of the People tutor.

"NAZGUL!" someone yelled. A deafening shriek rent the air.

"Take cover!" someone else shouted. "Fall back! Fall back to Minas Tirith!"

Talin didn't need to be told twice. He aimed one last slash at one of the orcs attacking him's legs and ran like the very beasts of hell were behind him. He heard others around him, scrambling back towards camp. When he reached it, Talin saw that it had been completely ravaged. There was no saving the stuff there. So he quickly re-routed and headed towards the stables. He jumped on his horse and waited for the signal to leave. Someone said loudly for them to 'GO!' and Talin didn't hesitate.

Once riding, Talin found Garin.

"Where's Hafa? Leo?" he asked. Garin shook his head desperately. Talin blinked. The point of the squads was to watch each other's backs, make sure everyone stayed safe. If Hafa and Leo weren't riding back with them, the only place they could be was back in Osgiliath –

Dead.