Camille sighed as they rode ever onwards towards Isengard, preparing for their eventual meeting with Saruman. This is SO not good… As they got closer and closer to their destination, she could feel the air starting to fill up with more tension, growing heavier and heavier. In the afternoon the dark clouds began to overtake them: a somber canopy with great billowing edges flecked with dazzling light. The sun went down, blood red in a smoking haze. As the sun set the spear tips of the Riders were glazed in a crimson hue like that of blood, as if foretelling of what would happen to them later on.
Suddenly, the whole cavalcade stopped. What? She leaned towards Legolas, who was riding upon Arod next to her and Blackwing, and whispered, "What's up?"
"There is a rider approaching us," Legolas replied, his far-seeing eyes knowing right away what was coming towards them even before the very head of the group could tell what it was. "He seems weary, and his shield is cloven and his helm is dinted. It appears he has come from a hard battle."
Camille gulped. Not good. He's coming from the way we're headed… Something tells me that once we get there, it's going to be another LOOOONG day.
The man they had been watching slowly climbed from his horse, and walked up to them, and attempted to recover his breath before he spoke at last. "Is Eomer here?" he asked. "You come at last, but too late, and with too little strength. Things have gone evilly since Theodred fell. We were driven back yesterday over the Isen with great loss; many perished at the crossing. Then at night fresh forces came over the river against our camp. All Isengard must be emptied; and Saruman has armed the wild hillmen and herdfolk of Dunland beyond the rivers, and these also he loosed upon us. We were overmastered. The shield-wall was broken. Erkenbrand of Westfold has drawn off those men he could gather towards his fastness in Helm's Deep. The rest are scattered.
"Where is Eomer? Tell him there is no hope ahead. He should return to Edoras before the wolves of Isengard come there."
Theoden had sat silent, hidden from the man's sight behind his guards; now he urged his horse forward. "Come, stand before me, Ceorl!" he said. "I am here. The last host of the Eorlingas has ridden forth. It will not return without battle."
The man's face lightened with joy and wonder. He drew himself up, and then he knelt, offering his notched sword to the king. "Command me, lord!" he cried. "And pardon me! I thought-"
"You thought I remained in Meduseld bent like an old tree under winter snow. So it was when you rode to war. But a west wind has shaken the boughs," said Theoden. "Give this man a fresh horse! Let us ride to the help of Erkenbrand!"
While all of this was going on, Camille noticed Gandalf go a little ways ahead of them, looking north to Isengard then west to the setting sun. What's he up to? After a few moments, Gandalf rode back to them, calling out to them.
"Ride Theoden!" he said. "Ride to Helm's Deep! Go not to the Fords of Isen, and do not tarry in the plain! I must leave you for a while. Shadowfax must bear me now on a swift errand." He glanced in their direction then, he cried, "Keep well the Lord of the Mark, till I return. Await me at Helm's Gate! Farewell!" And with that, he was off like a shot.
Camille looked at Eli then. "What're we going to do?"
Eli smirked. "What he asked us to do, duh."
"We could follow him, you know. Blackwing and Whitewing could catch up to Shadowfax with no trouble."
"No, that is not wise," said Aragorn with a shake of the head. "He has his own errand, and we have ours. Unfortunately our errand does not go along the same way as his. We are needed elsewhere."
The host turned then, bending their course southwards. Camille looked over her shoulder towards the north, and with a final sigh, followed the others as they headed towards Helm's Deep.
* * *
"It's dark."
Eli shook her head, rolling her eyes as she did so. "As if you aren't stating the obvious already, Camille."
Her best friend frowned at her from where she sat upon a parapet. "Well Miss Know-It-All, for your information I'm scared of the dark, and if that trip through Moria wasn't enough to leave me traumatized for the rest of my life, THIS is just making it worse." She looked up to the sky in a prayerful manner. "Jeez, what I wouldn't give for the moon, or even a couple of stars."
Eli rolled her eyes again. Complain, complain, complain… She lifted her head from the ground, and looked at the Dike. The darkness was so thick that she could barely make out the little pinpoints of light that came from the enemy camp before them.
They had arrived at Helm's Deep a while ago, and the moment they got there Eomer wasted no time in arranging the defenses. For the most part he left her, Camille, Gimli, Aragorn and Legolas alone, to put themselves where they would, though he preferred that the two girls would stay with the King in the Hornburg, as far away from danger as possible. However, the two girls flat-out refused his offer, insisting that they were better suited to stay up on the very wall itself, where Gimli and Legolas were. Aragorn said that he would join them later on, for he was currently with Theoden and Eomer, discussing strategy.
Just a little further down the wall, Eli could hear Legolas and Gimli arguing about who would be able to kill the most Orcs. She snickered when she heard the "discussion". She looked up at Camille, and asked, "Do you hear that, Camille? Legolas and Gimli are arguing about who's going to kill the most Orcs."
"Hah, as if!" Camille exclaimed with a snort. "You could do better than BOTH of them."
Eli laughed. "And what about you? Aren't you going to join?"
"Nah, no thanks. I know you're going to win anyways."
The two of them moved towards the two males, who were still busily bickering about who was going to do the most mass-slaughter. Eli stood there, and said, "Okay, I heard you two, and I want to join."
Legolas and Gimli looked at her then, and there was a challenging glint in their eyes. "Are you certain of that offer?" Gimli asked
Eli quirked up an eyebrow. "I never back down from a challenge, especially one I've made myself."
"Are you going to join, Camille?" Legolas asked.
Camille shook her head. "No thank you. I'd rather spare myself from the humiliation of losing, especially where Eli is concerned."
Eli grinned. You're too smart for your own good sometimes, Camille. She tilted her head. "So, what're the stakes?"
Legolas was about to tell her, but then, yells and screams broke out from the Dike, along with the fierce battle cries of men. Flaming brands appeared over the brink and clustered thickly at the breach. Then they scattered and vanished. Men came galloping back over the field and up the ramp to the gate of the Hornburg. The rearguard of the Westfolders had been driven in.
"The enemy is at hand!" they said. "We loosed every arrow that we had, and filled the Dike with Orcs. But it will not halt for long. Already they are scaling the bank at many points, thick as marching ants. But we have taught them not to carry torches."
Eli gritted her teeth. Damn! She turned quickly on her heel, and headed towards the path that led to the postern-door, which opened on a path that led to the Hornburg Gates, where she was certain the enemies would be thickest. For a moment the darkness was illuminated by a flash of lightning, and was quickly followed by a rumble of thunder. When she reached the Gate, rain had started to pour. And along with the rain came a volley of arrows so thick that it was a veritable cloud. Fortunately, Eli managed to duck behind a pillar, and so was not struck, but some other soldiers who were standing at the Gate were not as fortunate. She held back, waiting, watching.
Brazen trumpets sounded. The enemy surged forward, some against the Deeping Wall, other towards the causeway and the ramp that led up the Gate. There, like she anticipated, the hugest Orcs were mustered, and the Wildmen of the Dunland fells. A moment they hesitated and then on they came. The lightning flashed, and in the moment of brilliance Eli saw blazoned on every shield and helm the device of the White Hand. Saruman, she thought darkly. They reached the summit of the rock; they drove towards the Gate.
It was only then that the reply from the defenders came. Eli dropped down to the ground as arrows came whistling overhead, raining down on the enemy troops, their steel tips glinting in the flashes of lightning that periodically emerged from the storm clouds above. Along with the arrows flew rocks and other kinds of debris that could possibly do damage.
The enemy wavered, broke, and fled back; and then charged again, broke and charged again; and each time, they halted at a higher point. Again trumpets rang, and a press of roaring men leapt forth. They held their shields over their heads like a roof, while in their midst they bore two trunks of mighty trees. Behind them Orc-archers crowded, sending a hail of darts against the bowmen on the walls. They gained the gates. The trees, swung by strong arms, smote the timbers with a rending boom.
At that moment, Aragorn and Eomer appeared at either side of her. She grinned at the two Men. "It's now or never."
Aragorn and Eomer nodded, and together the three of them sprang through the door, a group of other soldiers just behind them. Eli watched as Eomer and Aragorn drew their swords together, the blades flashing from the sheath as one.
"Guthwine!" cried Eomer. "Guthwine for the Mark!"
"Anduril!" cried Aragorn. "Anduril for the Dunedain!"
Eli rolled her eyes, and just charged when they were finished. Jeez, they'd be able to slaughter more Orcs and get this over with if they don't stop to yell out the names of their swords and whom they're fighting for! As for herself, she made sure that the only things she truly killed were Orcs; the Men of Dunland she only incapacitated and injured, but not mortally.
Soon Aragorn and Eomer joined her in battle, and they were doing a pretty good job themselves. The battle was hard, and the enemies were many, and even Eli sustained injuries, but they were only bruises and light scratches. Either way, she didn't pay them any heed; her mind was focused completely on the fight at hand.
A shout went up from wall and tower: "Anduril! Anduril goes to war. The Blade that was Broken shines again! And see how the Blue Battle Maiden drives through the enemy ranks! Her blade is sharp, and she is fell-handed. Her beauty strikes terror in the hearts of our foes on the fields of war!"
Dismayed the rammers let fall the trees and turned to fight; but the wall of their shields was broken as a lightning-stroke, and they were swept away, hewn down, or cast over the Rock into the stony stream below. The Orc-archers shot wildly then fled.
For a moment the three warriors halted before the Gates. The thunder was rumbling in the distance now. The lightning flickered still, far off among the mountains in the South. A keen wind was blowing from the North again. The clouds were torn and drifting, and stars peeped out; and above the hills of the Coomb-side the westering moon rode, glimmering yellow in the storm-wrack.
"We did not come too soon, Eomer," said Aragorn, looking at the gates. Their great hinges and iron bars were wrenched and bent; many of their timbers were cracked.
Eli smirked as she sheathed her sword again. "But the gates are in desperate need of repair. Now that they're weakened, Eomer, you might want to send some of the men to guard this place. They're going to try harder and get in here later on, since the gates are almost destroyed."
Eomer nodded. "A wise decision, Elisabeth. We shall see what we-" His statement was cut short when an arrow whizzed by between them, missing him by a few scant millimeters.
Oh no, you've GOT to be kidding me! Eli turned to look, and felt her heart sink. A great press of Orcs and Men were gathering again beyond the stream. Arrows whined and skipped on the stones about them. "It's not a good idea to stand out here like sitting ducks! Let's head back inside now!"
They turned and ran. At that moment some dozen Orcs that had lain motionless among the slain leaped to their feet, and came silently and swiftly behind. Before Eli was able to take stock of the entire situation, two of the Orcs had flung themselves at her heels, tripped her, and in a moment they were on top of her. But a small dark shadow that none had observed sprang out of the shadows and gave a hoarse shout: "BARUK KHAZAD! KHAZAD AI-MENU!" And axe swung and swept back. Two Orcs fell headless. The rest fled.
Eli struggled back to her feet, even as Eomer and Aragorn ran back to help her. When she had managed to find her footing again, the three of them and the shadowy figure ran back inside. The postern was closed again, the iron door was barred and piled inside with stones. Eli turned to look at her rescue, and a brilliant grin spread on her face when she realized who it was. "Gimli! God, I should have KNOWN it was you! How the hell did you get there so quick?!"
"I followed you to shake off sleep," said Gimli, "but I looked on the hillmen and they seemed over-large for me, so I sat beside a stone to see your swordplay."
Eli smiled, swept her cape back, and bowed to him. "I owe you a big favor now, Gimli. I think that I'll pull out from the game you, Legolas, and me are playing, but that still isn't enough to repay what you've done for me. Someday, if we make it out of here alive, I'll give it all back to you."
"Your withdrawal is enough repayment," laughed the Dwarf, "for watching you fight, I feared that I would lose the game. But I am content. Till now I have hewn naught but wood since we left Moria."
* * *
Camille looked up from where she had been sitting beside Legolas as Gimli and Eli came walking up from their little "trip". She smirked when she saw that Eli had a couple of scratches, and that her arms and legs were pelted with bruises. "Rough night?"
Eli groaned, and leaned wearily against the wall. "Tell me about it. If it weren't for Gimli here I'd probably be pickings for the Orcs right about now."
"Oh? Gimli, do tell us the tale that Eli speaks of," Legolas requested.
Camille listened attentively, and paid particular attention to the part wherein the Orcs managed to trip Eli. "Whoa, that was some close call, alright. How you managed not to freak out is beyond me."
"Your mind kind of shuts down when they get close to you," Eli explained. "When they get THAT close to you, the only thing that goes through your mind is how desperately you want to put as much space between you and them. Or at least enough distance for you to swing your sword at them."
Camille shuddered, agreeing completely. Her first encounter with an Orc had left her almost scarred for life, and the only reason she would get anywhere near one was to hack it down to size and make sure it never stood up again.
"How many did you get, Camille?" Eli asked as she stretched and leaned against the wall.
Camille shrugged. "Around a good nineteen or so, as many as my arrows could hit in this murk. Of course, Legolas took out a lot more than I did; he can see better in the dark. But we've got no arrows left, so if I want to see some action I'm going to have to climb down from my safe little perch and use my kodachi."
The sky now was quickly clearing and the sinking moon was shining brightly. But the light brought little hope to the Riders of the Mark. The enemy before them seemed to have grown rather than diminished, and still more were pressing up from the valley through the breach. The sortie upon the Rock gained only a brief respite. The assault on the gates was redoubled. Against the Deeping Wall the hosts of Isengard roared like a sea. Orcs and hillmen swarmed at its feet from end to end. Ropes with grappling hooks were hurled over the parapet faster than men could cut them or fling them back. Many were cast down in ruin, but many more replaced them, and Orcs sprang up them like apes in the dark forests of the South. Before the wall's foot the dead and broken were piled like shingle in a storm; ever-higher rose the hideous mounds, and still the enemy came on.
The men of Rohan grew weary. All their arrows were spent, and every shaft was shot; their swords were notched, and their shields were riven. Three times Aragorn and Eomer rallied them, and three times Anduril flamed in a desperate charge that drove the enemy from the wall. Three times did Eli charge straight through the very thick of the fight, but three times she was forced back. And three times did Camille attempt to come to her friend's aid, but three times was she pushed back to the isolation of the wall with Legolas, forced to fight the Orcs that attempted to scale the walls.
Then a clamor arose in the Deep behind. Orcs had crept like rats through the culvert through which the stream flowed out. There they had gathered in the shadow of the cliffs, until the assault above was hottest and nearly all the men of the defense had rushed to the wall's top. Now there was no need for Camille to go down to seek battle; the battle had come to her. During the many skirmishes she had to deal with, she sustained many light wounds, and a bruised rib from where a shield had been driven against her torso.
Then they sprang out. Already some had passed into the jaws of the Deep and were among the horses, fighting with the guards.
Down from the wall leaped Gimli with a fierce cry that echoed in the cliffs. "Khazad! Khazad!" He soon had work enough.
Camille breathed heavily as she slashed down another Orc, kicking the body into the chasm on the opposite side of the wall. She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pain in her ribs. This is getting worse, she thought. There were Orcs everywhere: in the Deep, on the walls, and now heading towards the fastness of the Hornburg, where Theoden was currently staying. No way! There's no way they're supposed to get anywhere near there! Gathering all her strength, she allowed her energy to flow into the ground beneath her feet, and this caused such a massive earthquake that it threw the assailing Orcs off their feet and away from the Hornburg.
Just then, a cry rose from the Hornburg, a cry that sent hope running through all the defenders. "The Orcs are in the Deep! Helm! Helm! Forth Helmingas!" It was with that cry that the men of Westfold, with Gamling the Old leading the charge, rushed out from Hornburg to the aid of the other defenders.
Their onset was fierce and sudden, and the Orcs gave way before them. Ere long they were hemmed in the narrows of the gorge, and all were slain or driven shrieking into the chasm of the Deep to fall before the guardians of the hidden caves.
Camille collapsed beside Legolas, rubbing her hurt ribs beneath her breastplate. "Ow, that hurts, that really, really hurts."
Legolas knelt down in front of her, looking concerned, but Camille waved him off. "Don't you worry, nothing broken. Just a nice big bruise blooming over my ribs right about now. I'll be okay in a few moments." She looked up, and watched as Gimli helped and directed the men of the Westfold as they prepared a barrier for the culvert, to prevent any more sneak attacks. Slowly, the water began to rise as the passage of the Deeping-stream was narrowed, and gathered in pools from cliff to cliff.
"How do you fare?"
Camille looked up, and noticed Aragorn, Eomer, and Eli looking down at her. She grinned slightly, and sat up. "I'm doing okay. Just have a bruised rib. Don't worry, it's just bruised, and nothing more; lucky it didn't crack when that Orc took a swing at me with his shield. But I have the feeling the mark's going to be visible under anything white for a while." In the meantime, Eli sat down to her left, while to her right Legolas was whetting his long white knife.
She sighed as she looked to the sky. When will this night end?!
* * *
Eomer and Aragorn leant wearily on their swords. Away on the left the crash and clamor of the battle on the Rock rose loud again. But the Hornburg still held fast, like an island in the sea. Its gates lay in ruin; but over the barricade of beams and stones within no enemy as yet had passed.
Aragorn looked at the pale stars, and at the moon, now sloping behind the western hills that enclosed the valley. "This is a night as long as years," he said. "How long will the day tarry?"
"Dawn is not far off," said Gamling, who had now climbed up beside him. "But dawn will not help us, I fear."
"Yet dawn is ever the hope of man," said Aragorn.
Eli nodded. "Aragorn's right, Gamling." In a soft voice she sang a few lines from a song…
Though our spirits be down low,
This at least I know,
All the dark and fears will run
Come the rising of the sun.
So keep your hope in you, my friend
Cause somehow, this ain't the end
All the evil shadows will flee
Once the dawning sun we see.
"But these creatures of Isengard, these half-Orcs and goblin-men that the foul craft of Saruman has bred, they will not quail at the sun," said Gamling. "And neither will the wild men of the hills. Do you not hear their voices?"
"I hear them," said Eomer, "but they are only the scream of birds and the bellowing of beasts to my ears."
"There are many that cry in the Dunland tongue," said Gamling. "I know that tongue. It is an ancient speech of Men, and was once spoken in many western valleys of the Mark."
Gamling could go no further in his explanation, for as he spoke there came a blare of trumpets. Then there was a crash and a flash of flame and smoke. The waters of the Deeping-stream poured out hissing and foaming: they were choked no longer; a gaping hole was blasted in the wall. A host of dark shapes poured in.
Camille's eyes widened as she looked at the damage. "They have dynamite?!"
"Devilry of Saruman!" cried Aragorn. "They have crept in the culvert again, while we talked, and they have lit the fire of Orthanc beneath our feet. Elendil! Elendil!" he shouted, as he leaped down into the breach; but even as he did so a hundred ladders were raised against the battlements. Over the wall and under the wall the last assault came sweeping like a dark wave upon a hill of sand. The defense was swept away. Some of the Riders were driven back, further and further into the Deep, falling and fighting as they gave way, step by step, towards the caves. Others – with Camille and Eli in their lead – cut their way back towards the citadel.
A broad stairway climbed from the Deep up to the Rock and the rear-gate of the Hornburg. Near the bottom stood Aragorn and Eli. Still in Aragorn's hand Anduril gleamed, and the terror of the sword combined with the fierce blazing eyes of the Blue Battle Maiden for a while held back the enemy, as one by one all who could gain the stair passed up towards the gate. Behind on the upper steps knelt Legolas, and behind him at the door stood Camille. The Elf's bow was bent, but one gleaned arrow was all that he had left, and he peered out now, ready to shoot the first Orc that should dare to approach the stair.
After ascertaining that all who could come were safely inside, Camille yelled, "Aragorn, Eli, everyone's inside! Get yourselves up here now!"
The two turned and sped up the stair, but as they ran Aragorn stumbled in his weariness. At once the enemy leaped forward. Up came the Orcs, yelling with their long arms stretched out to seize him. The foremost fell with Legolas' last arrow in is throat but the rest sprang over him. Eli reached out, and grabbed him hard around the wrist, dragging him upwards just as a great boulder, cast down from the outer wall above, crashed down upon the stair, and hurled the Orcs back into the Deep. They both gained the door, and, together with Legolas and Camille, swiftly clanged it to behind them.
Eli slumped against the nearby wall, slowly sliding to the floor as sweat dripped off her brow and mingled with the blood from her wounds. "Now THAT was a close call! First Orcs are after you, then a huge boulder comes crashing down and you barely manage to escape getting squished to pulp on the steps…" She looked up at Aragorn, a teasing grin on her face. "You've got nine lives there, Aragorn, more surely than a cat's got them."
"Either that or he's just absurdly lucky," Camille muttered, this time rubbing not just her ribs now, but her right arm as well. She slid off her gloves, and rolled up her sleeves to expose her forearm. There now was a large splotchy bruise, and there was even a thin line of blood along the middle of it. She grimaced as she touched it. "Ouch. That is the LAST time I even TRY to jump down from the walls like a stupid mountain goat."
"Now that you speak of mountains, I do not see Gimli," said Legolas, looking around. "Camille, did he come through the door?"
The girl shook her head. "Nope, not while I was guarding it."
"Aragorn? Eli?"
"I do not know," said Aragorn. "I last saw him fighting on the ground behind the wall, but the enemy swept us apart."
"Alas! That is evil news," said Legolas
"I think I saw him with the people who were forced towards the caves," Eli answered. "I'm not sure, though. I think Eomer was with him."
"He is stout and strong," said Aragorn. "Let us hope that he will escape back to the caves. There he would be safe for a while; safer than we. Such a refuge would be to the liking of a Dwarf."
"That must be my hope," said Legolas. "But I wish that he had come this way. I wished to tell Master Gimli that my tale is now thirty-nine."
"If he wins back to the caves, he will pass your count again," laughed Aragorn. "Never did I see an axe so wielded."
Eli groaned in exasperation. "You males are so aggravating, you know that? All you think about are your bets and games and all that. And they say that we FEMALES are the more irritating species! Hah! THEY haven't had to deal with you two yet!"
Camille giggled. "Amen to that Eli."
* * *
Camille grimaced as Legolas pulled the bandage more tightly around her forearm. "Haven't they invented painkillers in this world yet?"
Legolas looked up at her, a small, teasing smile on his face. "And what would that be, my love?"
"Special medicine that prevents you from feeling horrid pain when you're being treated or amputated. Helps much when you've got a headache too," Camille replied dully. She took her arm back from him, and ran her free hand over the bandages. A hint of a smile crossed her lips, and she turned to him. "Thanks."
Legolas nodded. ""Twas nothing I would not do for an injured friend." Especially if that "friend" is the one to whom I have given my heart. He knelt down in front of her, his eyes locking on hers with a serious gaze. ^Promise me something, my love. Promise me that you will keep out of harm's way as much as you can. Once you know that the attack is too much, do not hesitate and turn back. If I were to lose you, I am certain that I will lose the will to live. And even then I will not be happy, for I know that I will never see you again.^
Camille laughed softly then, her hand not-too-discreetly rubbing against the shallow cut she had received across the bridge of her nose. It didn't require any bandages and it was not poisoned, but according to her, it itched quite a bit. "Legolas, you know better than to talk about silly things like that. We're ALL going to get through this somehow." Her eyes hardened somewhat as a memory overtook her. "And I'll be damned if I let anybody else die. No one else is going down while I still stand. I…I won't have anyone else join Boromir, wherever he is right now, not until this is all over and the Ring is destroyed and Sauron is kicked out of Middle-Earth permanently."
Legolas did his best to smile are her promise, though somewhere in the back of his mind he considered it impossible. This Quest is fraught with danger, and she cannot protect herself or us from everything.
At that moment, Aragorn entered, his face grim but determined. "We ride later with the King in a last attempt to stop the Orcs."
"So it has come down to this, then?" Legolas asked.
Camille looked up. "What do you mean, we ride? We go out there and charge at them?"
"That is precisely what we intend to do. Hopefully we may be able to defeat them yet," Aragorn replied. He shook his head then; reading as quickly as Legolas did what Camille intended to do. "And you will not go out with us in the charge. You will remain here in the safety of the Hornburg."
"But what use is that going to be if you lose?" Eli asked as she sauntered into the room, white strips of cloth flashing from her limbs where they covered various wounds and scratches. "We might as well go out with you guys and assure you of a win, right?" She tried to smile, but it was difficult, because of the strip of cloth that was laid against her cheek to cover the cut she had there.
"Eli's got a point," Camille said as she stood up, and started to pull her boots back on. "And besides, even if you lock us up in here we can and will find a way to bust ourselves out. I'd much rather use my powers on Orcs than on the Hornburg, if you catch my drift."
Aragorn smiled amusedly at the two girls. "Are you saying that you shall use your powers against the army of Orcs? Even in your weakened condition?"
"I don't know about the weakened condition, but you're right about the using-our-powers part," Eli replied as she tugged her gloves back onto her hands, flexing the fingers to ensure a good fit. "Personally, I feel quite fine. A little tired, maybe, but just fine."
Legolas turned to Aragorn, a pleading look on his face. Please say that you will not allow them to go!
After a long while, Aragorn smiled at the two girls, and chuckled to himself. "I know that you speak the truth, and I know as well that there is nothing I can do to prevent you from going. If I were to be truthful to you, your presence will comfort me greatly on the battlefield, for I know that your powers will be helpful when trouble arises."
"Aragorn surely you see the folly in this!" Legolas exclaimed. "This is something we might not return from alive!"
"Aye, part of my heart knows it is folly, but the greater part of it says that it is wise to bring them with us," Aragorn replied. He turned to the door, his hand on Anduril's hilt. "We shall go to the courtyard now. The host awaits us there."
* * *
Aragorn stood above the great gates, heedless of the darts of the enemy. As he looked forth he saw the eastern sky grow pale. Then he raised his empty hand, palm outward in token of parley.
The Orcs yelled and jeered. "Come down! Come down!" they cried. "If you wish to speak to us, come down! Bring out your king! We are the fighting Uruk-hai. We will fetch him from his hole, if he does not come. Bring out your skulking king!"
"The king stays or comes at his own will," said Aragorn.
"Then what are you doing here?" they answered. "Why do you look out? Do you wish to see the greatness of our army? We are the fighting Uruk-hai."
Down amongst the troops of Theoden, Camille scowled. "Fighting Uruk-hai my foot."
Eli quickly shushed her friend.
High above them, Aragorn continued to speak. "I wished to see the dawn."
"What of the dawn?" they jeered. "We are the Uruk-hai: we do not stop the fight for day or night, for fair weather or for storm. We come to kill, by sun or moon. What of the dawn?"
"None knows what the new day shall bring him," said Aragorn. "Get you gone, ere it turn to your evil."
"Get down or we will shoot you from the wall," they cried. "This is no parley. You have nothing to say."
"I have still this to say," answered Aragorn. "No enemy has yet taken the Hornburg. Depart, or not one of you will be spared. Not one will be left alive to take back tidings to the North. You do not know your peril."
So great power and royalty was revealed in Aragorn, as he stood there alone above the ruined gates before the host of his enemies, that many of the wild men paused, and looked back over their shoulders to the valley, and some looked up doubtfully at the sky. But the Orcs laughed with loud voices; and a hail of darts and arrows whistled over the wall, as Aragorn leaped down.
There was a roar and a blast of fire. The archway of the gate above which he had stood a moment before crumbled and crashed in smoke and dust. The barricade was scattered as if by a thunderbolt. Aragorn ran to the king's tower.
But even as the gate fell, and the Orcs about it yelled, preparing to charge, a murmur arose behind them, like a wind in the distance, and it grew to a clamor of many voices crying strange news in the dawn. The Orcs upon the Rock, hearing the rumor of dismay, wavered and looked back. And then, sudden and terrible, from the tower above, the sound of the great horn of Helm rang out.
The sound was fell and terrible to the opposing army's ears. Many of the Orcs threw themselves down on the ground in dismay. The sound grew as it echoed in the Deep, as if upon each hill stood a mighty herald, returning the blast of the Horn of Helm. Abruptly, the earth trembled beneath them, and the wind swirled around them. From the north rose a mighty tortoise, a great green serpent wound around its shell, its fangs glistening with deadly venom in the light of morn. And from the west, riding upon great gusts of wind came a tiger, its coat gleaming white with black stripes, its eyes glowing bright amber, and its claws sharp and lethal.
"Forth Eorlingas!" With a cry and a great noise they charged. Down from the gates they roared, over the causeway they swept, and they drove through the hosts of Isengard as a wind among grass, the great Spirits herding them closer to the defenders. Behind them from the Deep came the stern cries of men issuing from the caves, driving forth the enemy. Out poured all the men that were left on the Rock. And ever the sound of blowing horns echoed on the hills, accompanied by the rumbling of the earth and the whistling of the wind.
On they rode, the king and his companions. Champions and captains fell or fled before them. Neither Orc nor man withstood them. Their backs were to the swords and spears of the Riders, and their faces to the valley. They cried and wailed, for fear and great wonder had come upon them with the rising of the day.
Forth they rode, driving the army of Isengard into the valley. There, they could see that a great wood had sprung up where there was only grassy plain the night before. Between the Dike and the nameless wood lay only two open furlongs. There now cowered the proud hosts of Saruman, in terror of the king, the Spirits, and the trees. The Spirits flushed out all that remained in Helm's Gate until all above the Dike was empty of them, but below it they were packed like swarming flies. When this was accomplished, the Spirits vanished. Vainly the host crawled and clambered about the walls of the coomb, seeking to escape. Upon the east too sheer and stony was the valley's side; upon the left, from the west, their final doom approached.
There suddenly upon the ridge appeared a rider, clad in white, shining in the rising sun. The sounds of horns echoed up from the low hills, and a large troop of men appeared alongside him, their swords in their hands. To the front strode a man tall and strong, with a red shield upon his arm. As he came to the valley's brink, he set a black horn to his lips, and blew a ringing blast.
And so it was that Gandalf and Erkenbrand returned to the aid of Helm's Deep. Down into the valley they charged, the White Rider at the forefront, Shadowfax leaping like a deer that runs surefooted down the mountain. The wild men screamed and fell on their faces before him. The Orcs reeled and screamed and cast aside both sword and spear. Like a black smoke driven by a mounting wind they fled. Wailing they passed under the shadow of the trees; and from that shadow none ever came again.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: AT LAST, it's done!!! I have enough reason to believe that THIS is one of the hardest chapters to write, the other one being the final battle before the gates of Mordor. I used A LOT of Tolkien's own words, squeezing in a bit of my own to encompass my characters. It's because I suck at writing battle scenes; I can't do good when it comes to the itty-bitty fight sequences, all the more so when it comes to sweeping battles that pit one army against another! This is, I believe, the LONGEST chapter in the entire story, as I tried to tell the entire chapter of Helm's Deep in one go. If anyone is irritated by this fact, I'm sorry grins apologetically; I didn't know where to break it. Anyways, let's get on to the rest of the fic, shall we? We now go on to Isengard, where the Hunt from Parth Galen shall be concluded. Read on!!