A/N: Enjoy!

Chapter Eleven

Mordor

Thorongil, Captain Anders, and Carter's scouting party sat in the small cave they had found by the wayside.

"Orders, Captain?" inquired Carter.

Both Anders and Thorongil began to speak.

Thorongil blushed. "Sorry, Captain."

"Please, go on," replied Anders.

"You and I made no effort to cover our tracks," said Thorongil. "We should immediately move north or east with more caution, in case we are followed.'

Anders nodded. "I agree. Let's move!"

The seven soldiers then moved with deliberate speed north along the road for six hours, making an effort to cover their tracks. They found another cave and made camp for the night. It was uncomfortably cold but both Thorongil and Anders insisted that no fires be lit. Mordor was technically under Gondorian rule but it was clear that they were in enemy territory. Captain Anders took the first watch. Four hours later Thorongil rose to relieve him.

Captain Anders stared uneasily out into the darkness. "There is a garrison at the ruins of the Black Gate, but it is three hard days away even if we pass unhindered. We will need food and water, and Mordor is a barren land."

"Some streams must run down off the mountains," muttered Thorongil.

"None do," said Carter, who had stepped up behind them. "I have marched this road before. It was used for training a few years ago."

At first light the next morning the company marched north. A few hundred yards ahead of the company, bow in hand, strode Thorongil. They found nothing interesting that day. When night fell they were unable to find a cave, so they made camp on the western side of the road behind some large rocks.

It was nearly sunrise when the ranger on watch woke the company. "To arms! Enemies to the south."

They hid behind the rocks beside which they had slept. It was scarcely twenty yards between their hiding place and the side of the road. To the six mortals the approaching force was nothing but a dark shape on the horizon, but Thorongil could see them in detail.

"They are at least two hundred strong," he said. "At the front march two trolls in the same armor as the one we faced at Cirith Ungol. Between the trolls rides a woman dressed in red with a scepter in her hand."

"She must be the witch Captain Miller reported his captors spoke of," Anders thought aloud.

Thorongil ducked behind the rocks as the witch's army came nearer. As the host passed close beside them the rangers struggled to keep even the noise of their breathing to a minimum. Most of the rangers silently cursed the wind from the east that brought the stench of the orcs over the rocks, but Anders thanked Manwë for it - the alternative would have been much worse.

Orcs have a keen sense of the smell.

The company waited in hiding for at least half an hour after the last sound of marching feet. Thorongil peeked out and gave the all clear signal. They were about to resume their northward journey - far more cautiously with the host ahead of them - when Thorongil spotted more orcs to the south. The rangers franticly returned to their hiding place.

"You know, there is a big map in Faramir Hall that labels Mordor as 'secure,'" laughed Carter.

"Looks pretty secure to me, sir," replied a ranger. "Securely in enemy hands."

Thorongil peered over the rocks to count the enemy host. "I make it twenty-three orcs."

"There is no point in fighting them," Carter said.

Thorongil disagreed. "They might carry water."

"He's right," sighed Anders. He was loath to fight outnumbered more than three to one this far from help, but thirst was the more dangerous enemy.

"Fight cautiously," warned Anders as they prepared their ambush. "We are far from any healers."

When the orcs were just beside the rocks the rangers sprang their trap. Leaping out at them suddenly they killed many with their arrows before swords clashed. It all went well until a particularly clever uruk-hai feigned injury and the youngest of the rangers came at it recklessly for a killing blow. As the ranger lifted his sword high in the air the orc punched him square in the face. The ranger would have fallen to the ground but the orc grabbed him and held him as a human shield, a knife to his neck.

The remaining orcs fell swiftly. The uruk holding the ranger backed away from the fighting. "His life for mine!" it roared.

The situation was complicated. If let free the orc would likely warn his compatriots, and even if they did agree to the deal the orc would expect some guarantee of his freedom - most likely he would keep the ranger hostage for some time.

While Captain Anders pondered his options Thorongil shot the orc dead in the eye. So fine was the shot that it slid along the rangers face as if flew, leaving a line of blood across his cheek.

The orc fell dead and the ranger fell clutching his face. "What if you had missed?" he screamed.

"Then you would be dead," Thorongil replied. "But I don't miss."

"I don't miss," repeated the ranger in a mocking, exaggerated tone.

"We need to move!" shouted Captain Anders. "Search the bodies!"

The rangers searched the orcs and to their relief found many waterskins. The seven fugitives then resumed their march northwards. Captain Anders joined Thorongil fifty yards ahead of the other five.

"Next time you wait for my command," he said sternly.

Thorongil shook his head. "If you gave the command he would have killed your man."

Anders had no answer to that.

"I'd be upset too if someone put one of my men's live in jeopardy, but I assure you I was not going to miss," said Thorongil.

"You do not want one my men's blood on your hands," warned Anders.

Thorongil reached down and picked up a pebble. He handed it to Captain Anders and drew his bow. "Throw it ahead of us."

The captain did so and Thorongil shot it with his arrow.

"Again," he said, handing Anders another shard of gravel and placing another arrow on the string.

After a few more demonstrations left a few more arrows dotting the road ahead, Anders' mind was more at ease.

"I don't suppose you are looking for a job?" he joked.

"I seem to have one," laughed Thorongil, stooping to retrieve an arrow. "I rescue Gondor's rangers."

That night the rangers found a cave and slept soundly, or as soundly as you can in Mordor. The next morning Anders roused them early, intent on reaching the ruins of the Isenmouthe in a single march.

It was two hours before noon when they came upon a fork in the road.

"That road leads to Durthang," pointed Anders. He picked up the broken remains of a bottle. "And it looks like it has been well travelled of late."

"Durthang was a fortress of Men," said Thorongil. "Like Cirith Ungol, the destruction of The Ring did not harm it, so it makes sense that our enemies would choose it as their stronghold."

"It's near impregnable," added Carter. "We marched there in training and every man marvelled at the height of its walls."

The rangers examined the roads and concluded that most of the orcs in the host preceding them had turned for Durthang, while the horse, the trolls, and at most twenty uruk-hai had continued north.

As the sun set behind the mountains of shadow the rangers came within view of the Isenmouthe - the ruins of Sauron's second line of defense behind the Black Gate. The last rays of the sun could be seen along the wreckage of the once mighty wall and two mighty towers marking the only gate through it. Here the road diverged. One path led north-west, to the Black Gate and presumably a Gondorian garrison with food and drink. The other went dead east, a wide and well trodden road leading to the ruins of Barad-dúr. It was along that road that the witch and her guard had marched.

As Thorongil gazed eastward Captain Anders stepped up alongside him. "You wish to pursue them?" he whispered.

Thorongil nodded. "She is lightly guarded."

"Carter, lead the men out of Mordor," ordered Anders.

"You don't need to come," said Thorongil.

Carter shook his head. "Only a fool would wander Mordor alone. We can help you!" His men were of a similar mind.

"We don't have the supplies to make the journey all together," Anders replied. "This isn't a vote, get going!"

Carter and his four men set off along the northern road. They left a number of their waterskins with Anders and Thorongil. Despite this they did not have enough for the return journey.

"There must be water in Barad-dúr," claimed Anders. "Even orcs have to drink."

Thorongil was less certain. "Perhaps, but whatever system Sauron contrived to get it there may be broken."

They pursued the orcs for the rest of the day, and all of the next. At evening on the second day since they had left the other five rangers, and the sixth since entering Mordor, Thorongil and Anders reached the ruins of the greatest fortress built in Middle Earth since the First Age.