Chapter 39 Men of Gondor
The men in the distance arrived at the hilltop where Sam and Castiel had stood only to find footprints. Around the hilltop was the ruins of an ancient building. The horses were agitated. One called to his fellows to stop simply by raising his hand at a right angle. The men were covered head to to toe in scrapes and bloodied armor. Their panic was evident in their faces and it was not due to the unseen predators around them. These men and been through the grinder. There was not a soul among them that didn't look afraid or in shock. They lept at the sound that came from behind a pillar. It these men ever where hardened soldiers, they were thoroughly broken now. Their eyes were wide, unblinking.
Their captain wore an indiscernible expression. He had managed to hold on to some sort of wit about him, and he had heard something.
"We must move on, we cannot linger here." one of the men said to the captain.
The captain held up a hand again, and slowly drew his sword. The other men exchanged glances of terror. They had escaped. It just wasn't fair to be thrown out of the frying pan, and into the fire.
Reluctantly they all drew their swords. The *shink* of metal covered the sound of Sam readying himself should it come to a fight.
"Lower your weapons!" came the call of Castiel. This only served to scare them. They became jumpy and the horses pawed nervously at the ground. "We mean you no harm." he continued.
Sam and Castiel came out from their hiding places. The jumpy soldiers drew swords with a wild look in their eyes.
"We seek an elf that may have passed this way. She was tall, with red hair." Castiel said.
"We will not take you to that demon!" the captain said.
"That is fine. Will you at least tell us where she is?" Castiel asked.
"Ride east a few days. Go along the ridge of the mountains. You will come to the White City, Minas Tirith. There will be no return for you though." the captain said over the terrified muttering of his men.
"Why not?" Sam asked.
"There is nothing but death there. Such a place makes corpses of men in the blink of an eye." he said.
"Is there anything else you know of the fate of the elf?" Castiel asked.
"That demon is no elf. She attacked the walls of Minas Tirith and all of her armies. The city fell in three hours. Nothing can stand against her. The Balrogs have awakened in the deep, and an even more ancient evil. None can survive there." the captain said.
"There must be someone who can take us there." Sam said.
"There are none. This is the end. Can you not see? There is no sun, no stars. There is only the blood and ash of the clouds. I am taking my men as far away as I can, until the darkness envelopes the world. You are welcome to come should you wish to prolong the inevitable." the captain said.
"We have come to stop her." Sam said. Castiel shot him a reproving look. "There is only one man who can end this, and it is that man you are waving your swords at." Sam said pointing at Castiel.
The men were beyond reason. One made a wild swing that nearly hit Castiel on the shoulder. The gesture wasn't missed by Turin, who in the flash of Castiel's eyes drew the Last Blade and drove it through the man's heart. Lifting the impaled man into the air, Turin smiled as he slammed his ruin onto the ground. The men of Gondor screamed and panicked. Their horses fled, leaving nothing but hoof prints and dust in their wake.
Turin, smiling, wiped the obsidian blade on Castiel's trench coat.
"What the H*ll, Cas?!" Sam said.
"Cas doesn't have the stomach for this kind of work." Turin said using Castiel's mouth.
"I've seen him do plenty, but you are another piece of work entirely. Those men were terrified and innocent!" Sam said.
"I don't think you can know that." Turin said dismissively.
Sam's eyes flashed like flames were behind them. "You have no idea." he said.
Sam was having difficulty maintaining his flesh and blood persona. The spirit of vengeance within called for the blood of this fleshless spirit like nothing he had felt in this land. This was not a righteous man. But he couldn't do it. It could destroy Cas as well, and as of yet, Turin was needed, if prophecy was to be believed, but Sam didn't set much stock to any kind of prophecy. There were too many times he had outran it. He clenched his fist and quieted the Rider's thirst for blood.
"That's right, mortal. Know your place." the spirit said.
Abandoning soul to instinct, Sam grabbed his friend by the throat and lifted him into the air.
"The only reason you are allowed to continue, is because I say so." Sam said.
Choking, the spirit backed out of Castiel's eyes. Sam saw this and dropped him promptly.
"You need to be more careful." Sam said, gesturing to the body nearby.
Castiel looked at the dead soldier in shock, but understood what had happened immediately.
"What other choice do we have, Sam? This is the only way." Castiel said.
"When has that ever been true? We made it our business to defy prophecy crap like this." Sam said.
"And look at where it has gotten us, Sam! Your world is gone! I won't let it happen to another one!" Castiel said.
Sam was taken aback, and backed off a bit to get their supplies.
"I just need to be more careful, that's all." Castiel said more quietly.
"Make sure you are. I've cleaned up enough messes." Sam said, picking up the soldier's spear.
"What are you doing?" Castiel asked.
"This is an innocent man, Cas. We are going to bury him." Sam said.
Castiel nodded, and went with him to help, glancing at the gathering shadow in the east, wondering what would be found there.