A/N This chapter is all Faramir, so I hope all you Faramir fans get enough
of him here because, my god, he has a lot to say. For all you who love
that bratty elf and that incorrigible dwarf, fear not the next chapter will
make you happier, and also I have it on good authority that the two of them
will be reunited soon.
Thanks again for all of your wonderful reviews. They really brighten my day. So please, read on and enjoy.
Disclaimer: all characters, settings, and elvish language are strictly from the mind of J.R.R. Tolkien or inspired by him.
Chapter XI
Preparations for War
The deep, throaty sounds of men's voices filled the Meeting Hall of Minas Mallen echoing off the marble walls, ceiling, and floor. The bright sunshine from the newly risen sun set the walls aglow and cast everything within the room in a brilliant light, yet little could cheer the hearts of the peoples gathered within. The sense of concern and apprehension was almost a physical presence. The word had spread quickly of the armies to the east, and all present knew that 18 years of peace in Ithilien had come to an end.
Faramir stared at the faces. Some were like to his own, grim with age and the knowledge of what lay ahead. These were the men who had fought against Sauron for countless years while Gondor held fast against the strength of Mordor. The very men who had fought so bravely in the Battle of Pelennor Fields knowing their was little hope that the battle could be won, but hoping to distract Sauron so that the Ringbearer might go unnoticed through Mordor toward Mount Doom. Others were younger and more eager. These were ready to go into battle, having heard only the glorious tales told by their sires and grandsires and not yet understanding the consequences. How like his own son they were, foolishly wanting to run headfirst into a darkness that would forever change them. It would steal their innocence and replace it with cynicism and distrust.
Representatives for all the peoples of Ithilien were present at the War Council seated in a great circle around a large wooden table. On Faramir's right were the Dunadain, the hardy remnants of the men of Numenor. All wore the same expressionless mask, and none spoke for it would be a waste of time to speculate on something when all would be laid bare in a few moments. Rangers were ever watchful, ever weighing the situation to gain the upper hand.
In stark contrast to the Dunedain were the men to Faramir's left, the commanding officers of the Army of Ithilien. When it came to effectiveness and battle-readiness there was little difference between the two for all that separated the two groups was the lineage of the Dunedain. Yet the soldiers of the army did not appreciate nor follow the staid mannerisms of the Rangers. Even now the soldiers were joking and taunting each other, but Faramir knew this was not due to lack of concern or to not giving the current situation the seriousness it deserved. It was their way of coping with the stress of the coming days.
Kolim and his contingent of dwarves sat to the left of the soldiers. They too were laughing heartily at some jest or joke, but there was a fierceness within their eyes which hinted at a readiness to draw arms. Too many of their own had already fallen to this enemy, and they would have their vengeance upon them.
Between the dwarves and Dunedain were the elves, both of Edhil-e-londe and Eryn Lasgalen. Faramir had noticed a quiet resignation amongst the elves as of late. Not the resignation of a defeated people, but rather theirs was a sadness coupled with the determination of those who knew what must be done though the knowledge pained them.
With a sigh Faramir rose. All talk ceased immediately and silence filled the hall. "It has been many years since I was involved in a war council, and my heart is heavy that I should return to such a thing after this time of peace." Faramir paused. He could see the regret in his words reflected back at him in the eyes of every member of the council. "But all here have pledged to fight against the forces of darkness and protect the good peoples of Middle-earth. This is our duty. And if we here do as our duty calls us then none can stand in our way. Therefore I ask you do not grieve for the past, but strive to bring peace once again to our beautiful land." All who were seated around the table rose in response to these words. Many voices shouted and swords were raised high in the air. The Rangers had risen as one, and drawing their swords they brought their blades together in a steely crash. Proud voices bellowed "Gondor, Gondor!!!" and then a final "And Ithilien the Beautiful!!!" It was the response Faramir had hoped for. He waited patiently for the cheers to stop and for all to retake their seats.
"You will recall that after Sauron was defeated and Elessar ascended the throne of Gondor he forgave the Easterlings who dwelt in Mordor for aiding Sauron. It was his belief, and mine as well, that Sauron had enslaved these men and that they did his bidding out of duress and not fealty. And so, he forgave them their transgressions and gave to them the land surrounding the Sea of Nurnen in Mordor called Nurn. But we did not forget about these men, and as many of you know we have maintained a constant vigil on their activities and numbers. All this was done without their knowledge for we did not wish them to feel that we distrusted them and so make them our enemy, but it seems that they have been aware of our spies for some time now.
"Deep within the bowels of the southern Ephel Duath they were able to form an alliance with the orcs of Mordor. Here they built their smithies and forged weapons and armor even where they took the iron from the earth. That they had forged steel underground was known to us for we had witnessed men who journeyed into these mines every day and returned before nightfall. No weapon was ever seen leaving the mines only tools necessary for the growing of crops and the preparing of food. All seemed quiet from our vantage - until now.
"Two months ago I received the first news that all was not peaceful in Nurn. Our scouts reported orcs amongst the men. Weaponry and armor were now seen coming out of the mountains. Having harvested the summer's bounty the women and children had moved to the eastern shores of the Sea of Nurnen and planted their winter crops. All indications were the Easterlings and orcs were preparing for war, but they had not yet shown any signs of organization.
"Early this morning I received the first reports that they are at this very moment preparing to march on Ithilien. Their forces are gathering on the plains of Nurn, and the orcs are now leaving their hiding places beneath the Ephel Duath to join them. And if we erred in allowing the Men of Nurn too much freedom then the most grievous result is that we have miscalculated the numbers of Easterlings and orcs in Mordor. My last report indicates ten thousand in number, and perhaps more still hidden under the mountains. This is a force equal to that which attacked Minas Tirith in the War of the Ring. This is disconcerting to say the least, but more importantly it begs the question who is behind all this for orcs are too busy fighting amongst themselves to ever achieve this kind of an army without someone else to frighten them into submission
It is possible that the Easterlings themselves have achieved this, but I do not think so. Any whomever would want to control this great a number of orcs must also possess enough power to keep them in line. They must fear their leaders more than each other. The Men of Nurn possess nothing that I am aware of that could keep so great a number of orcs in line. My suspicions are that these Daequendi we have recently encountered are behind all of this. I believe their sudden appearance cannot be coincidence. Nevertheless, what their exact purpose is I cannot guess, and it is a dangerous thing when you do not know what compels your enemy.
"For this reason I believe we cannot delay. Earlier this morning I discussed the news with King Elessar, King Eomer, and King Thranduil. All were in agreement for haste, and as such Elessar and Eomer have already returned to gather their own forces for the coming battle. At most they will be three days behind us, but we are to be the front line. More scouts have been sent to Mordor to track the enemy, but for now I must assume that the armies are already on the march. Therefore, we must be prepared to march forth by sunrise tomorrow."
Faramir paused and looked at all who sat before him allowing the severity of his next words to gather more force, "These forces which have gathered in Mordor are greater than any of us expected. If they are allowed to cross over the Ephel Duath they will likely lay siege to Amon Galen and Minas Tirith. This is why we must make such haste, and cannot await the arrival of the men of Minas Tirith and Rohan.
"The mountains of the southern Ephel Duath have no usable pass for an army to cross over. For this reason the enemy must either turn first east and come round the easternmost point of the mountains and come to Ithilien from the south, or they must come west and seek one of the passes through the western Ephel Duath. If they take the longer route to the east then our scouts will have time to warn us and we will revise our strategy, but I do not think they will choose such a path. It would increase their march by more than twice as much, and will also bring them into the land of Khand. Orcs are hardy, but that long of a march would take its toll on their strength. Also, we have no evidence that the Variags of Khand have allied themselves with the men and orcs of Mordor. They might take such a great army marching through their land as a threat. Little good would it do our enemy if they were to lose much of their force before they even came to Ithilien.
"There are two major passes through the western wall of the Ephel Duath. There is the pass of Cirith Gorgor, but it is far to the north, and would take our enemy far out of their way. I do not think they will choose this path, but even if they do so our scouts will give us enough warning to modify our plans. There is also the Pass of Cirith Ungol, which seems more likely to be used due to its close proximity to Amon Galen. But there is another way in which a large army could cross the Ephel Duath.
"There is a pass which was not made by men or orcs, but was carved out by the springs of the River Poros. The pass lies south of here about 100 leagues. That part of Ithilien is all but deserted and we did not even know of it until the Rangers going to and from Mordor discovered it. The pass itself is not long, only about ten leagues, and it is not high. The way is narrow, however, and quite steep in some parts, but I believe this is the route our enemy will try and take." An old, grizzled man to Faramir's left rose and laid his sword upon the table, the unspoken request to speak. Faramir nodded in acknowledgement, "You may speak, Giltir."
"Thank you, your highness," replied Giltir. "It may be as you say and our enemy will come through the pass of Poros, but if they continue to the north and take Cirith Ungol instead will that not leave Amon Galen exposed, along with all our families?" Having spoken his peace the soldier sheathed his sword and took his seat. Many of the men around him nodded in agreement to his protest.
Faramir lowered his head in consideration. He knew this was a gamble, but his intuition told him he was right. In the years before the War of the Ring Faramir had spent much time in Ithilien keeping watch on the comings and goings of Sauron's minions, and he had always followed his intuition even then. It had never failed him, but that would be of little assurance to these men who left that which they held most dear behind in Amon Galen. The urge to pace around the table was gnawing at him, but he thrust it aside. Taking a deep breath he spoke, "You are correct to voice your concerns, Giltir, and in truth it is a gamble we are taking. But if we wait to determine which route they will take it will likely mean that we will have to fight them on the open land of Ithilien. Their numbers are vast, and that could mean the siege of Amon Galen. That is a war I do not wish to fight.
"We must trust in the speed and watchfulness of our Dunedain scouts. If they do go north to take Cirith Ungol then we will be advised, and I believe we will have enough time to move north and meet them before they come to Amon Galen.
Faramir studied the faces of the men of Amon Galen. His men. His people. Though most did their best to hide their looks of concern it was plain that many were lacking confidence in the solvency of the plan. They needed reassurance. "I am your Prince, but I know that even that is not enough to waylay your fears for your loved ones. However, I also will be leaving behind one dear to me. The Princess Eowyn shall remain in Amon Galen with your families. And if danger should approach she will not falter, for as you all well know the Princess is a fierce warrior. It was she who slew the King of the Nazgul, and her skills as a warrior will we be no less in defense of her own people."
The Princes words calmed the men's fears immediately. Princess Eowyn commanded a great respect from all the people of Ithilien as well as all of Gondor - less a Princess to most than a hero of the Battle of Pelennor Fields. Surely, none would dare attack Amon Galen while the slayer of the King of the Nazgul ruled within. Faramir took no such comfort from his own words, however. He knew his wife as only a husband could, and though he was proud of her accomplishments on the battlefield he knew only too well how human she was. But these were matters of the heart and had no place in a war council.
"Haste, again, is the order of the day. Though our foe is great in number it may not be necessary to face the entire force at once, but only if we can arrive at the Pass of Poros first. As I have said the pass is narrow, and therefore no more than five can walk abreast at any point. If we are waiting for them when they pass through I believe we can cut off small groups as they exit and these would be easily vanquished.
"The pass itself ends in a large vale bound on either side by the shoulders of two great mountains. On those mountains will our archers hide in the brush, there to lie in wait until my mark. Our foot soldiers will be positioned at the mouth of the vale to provide a target for the enemy. Once the enemy appears our foot soldiers will rush forward to meet them in battle. The orcs will hasten forward as well drawing them out of the pass and into the vale, but we will meet them in combat only briefly. Once they have been lured out to the edges of the vale that's when our cavalry will ride in from both sides to surround them and destroy them. Then will our archers help to finish off those remaining, but also they will prevent more orcs from exiting the pass into the vale. Once they have brought down as many of our foes as possible the cavalry will retreat behind the mountains. The archers will again hide in the brush and the foot soldiers will prepare for another attack. We must hold the vale until King Elessar and King Eomer arrive.
"Giltir, you will coordinate the soldiers of Ithilien and take the right side of the vale. Thranduil will provide you with archers in addition to your own."
The gruff man nodded in understanding, "It will be as you say, my lord."
"Kolim, are the dwarves prepared to embark tomorrow?"
The dwarf nodded. "The dwarves are ever ready, your highness. I will be departing immediately after this council for Khazad-bizar. We will march at dawn and meet you on the other side of the Emyn Arnen."
"Good," nodded Faramir then he turned to the captain of his Rangers, "Danethil you will coordinate with King Thranduil and Kolim. You three will be responsible for the left side of the vale." Faramir turned to address the council as a whole but stopped when he noticed Thranduil had risen from his seat. "Your highness, is there something you wish to say?"
Thranduil cast a sidelong glance at the dwarf contingent then back at Faramir, "I believe that you will find it is in the best interests of all if the dwarves were to aid Giltir and his men."
Faramir stared in confusion at the King of Eryn Lasgalen. "I fail to understand your meaning, your highness."
Thranduil seemed to sigh then stared meaningfully back at Faramir, "Then I shall speak plainly, Prince Faramir. Too many times have I met with treachery and deceit from the dwarves, and I would not have the lives of my people dependent on their unpredictable moods."
For a moment all was silent within the Great Hall of Minas Mallen, and the men of Ithilien held their breaths in anticipation of the Dwarves reactions. The initial shock wore off clearly, however. The dwarves rose to stand on top of their chairs in indignation. Curses were thrown at Thranduil, the elves of Eryn Lasgalen, and in some cases all elves in general. Some of the dwarves had gone so far as to wield their axes and make generalized threats of violence toward the elven king.
As if on cue members of Thranduil's delegation rose and surrounded their king, swords and knives drawn. Gray eyes flashed in their handsome faces as they retaliated in kind with harsh words and threats. Thranduil stood in the middle of this, quiet and calm, the eye in the middle of a storm. He was resolute in his decision.
Faramir had never felt frustration like this in his entire life. His suffering at the disagreements between Legolas and Gimli were as nothing compared to this. A sardonic smile flashed across his lips as he considered the sheer improbability that the elf and dwarf had ever become friends. Raising his hands in a gesture of restraint Faramir tried to speak above the din, "Please, good friends. Bickering and fighting amongst each other only aids our enemy. Please, return to your seats so that we might discuss this." But his words were to no avail.
A young dwarf with fiery hair and beard had walked over to the elven delegation and was waving his axe in the air. A sneer spread across Thranduil's lips as one of his elves moved forward to meet him, sword in hand. The soldiers of Ithilien's army looked amused, and many seemed to be discussing the finer points of wielding an axe versus a sword.
Faramir had now gone beyond mere anger. He flashed a look at Danethil and instantly the Ranger and his men were moving to the opposite end of the table. It was not his wish to bring arms against his allies, but the current situation called for desperate measures. The dwarf and elf were now circling one another in preparation for an attack. Silently Danethil came up behind the dwarf, and before he knew what had happened the Ranger had taken the axe from out of the unsuspecting dwarf's hands. Seizing the opportunity the elf jumped forward to attack. Danethil had anticipated this, and now wielding both sword and axe he blocked the elf's way, "I do not wish to fight with you, Faidhel, but I cannot allow this." Shocked by the Ranger's sudden involvement the elf did not answer, but after a few moments he nodded in ascension and moved back to once again protect his lord.
Turning around Danethil found the young dwarf whose axe he even now held in his hand, "And Master Zigil, I apologize for surprising you. I will return your axe to you, only please take your seat again so that Prince Faramir may speak." The dwarf's eyes were practically ablaze with anger. The other Dunedain had managed to bring the rest under control, and the room had grown quiet. All eyes were now turned to the dwarf, who realizing this muttered something in Dwarvish and slowly returned to his seat. Danethil turned to face his Prince and bowed, "The floor is again yours, my lord."
Faramir nodded slightly in acknowledgement. He was still angry at the outburst when so much hung in the balance. Staring first at Kolim and then at Thranduil he spoke, "It seems to me that the elves and dwarves at this council would do well to take a lesson from their own kind."
Faramir knew his words would mean nothing to them, but still he paused to let their meaning sink in a little. "When I first came to Ithilien much of this land was laid waste by the evil forces of Sauron, and I knew it would take a great deal of work and cooperation to bring her back to life. King Elessar and I spoke of how we could go about re-building the land, and he suggested I enlist the help of his friends Legolas and Gimli. I had met them and talked with them before, and in truth I thought they were an odd pairing. And when they both agreed to bring some of their people to this land to help in its transformation, I admit I had my doubts. I did not believe the elves and dwarves could work together.
"How wrong I was. Look around you. All that is before you is from the hands of dwarves, elves, and men. What beauty all these races have wrought here in Ithilien was even beyond my wildest dreams. Dwarven walls covered in elven tapestries. Roads laid by dwarven hands. Homes built of Elven ingenuity. And in my realm I witnessed the two working side-by-side, perhaps not always harmoniously, but always for a common goal and especially out of a common love for this land.
Faramir turned his gaze on Thranduil. Somewhere in the back of his head was the knowledge that the elf was tens of thousands of years old and his own life measured only in decades, but that mattered little to the Prince of Ithilien. If the King of the Wood-elves chose to allow ancient grudges to confuse the issue at hand then, by the Valar, Faramir would make him see reason. "You, Thranduil, who remained in Middle-earth when there were so many reasons for you to leave, how can you not understand your son's love for this land? He has heard the call of the sea, and yet he remains, striving to put right all that the powers of Mordor tried to destroy. Would you see all his hard work laid waste and his sacrifices be for naught because of prejudices borne of ancient deeds?"
Sitting straight in his chair Thranduil's face betrayed nothing of what was going on in the elf's mind. His eyes, though, seemed to soften a little. It was a small gesture, but more than Faramir could have hoped for as far as a reaction to his words. The prince continued to stare in silence at the elven king refusing to back down from his position. After some uncomfortable moments Thranduil dipped his head and conceded the Prince's point. Faramir knew that was all he would get from the stubborn elf.
Faramir now directed his attention to the dwarves. None but Kolim would meet his gaze, but Faramir knew that if he had verbally reprimanded a King of the elves then the dwarves must also receive harsh words. "You of the race of Durin, do you wish to see all your beautiful works destroyed? Is all that you have worked on for the last twenty years of so little value that you would throw it all away because of words spoke in anger? Gimli also has sacrificed much for this land for you are all aware that his heart dwells in the Glittering Caves of Aglarond, yet he has delayed the deepest desires of his heart for the greater good of all Ithilien's peoples. You who are of Gimli's own race, do you not see what it is he has worked so hard for? Would you see it all pass away?"
Even Kolim had to turn away from the Prince's fierce gaze.
Faramir's last words echoed off the marble walls of the great hall and then silence descended. Wanting to end this once and for all Ithilien's prince let the silence continue until long after it had become uncomfortable. Finally, he took a deep breath and then exhaled long and low. The Prince of Ithilien had made his presence known, but the Dunadan in him now began to take control again. "I will not deceive you. Without the aid of both the elves and dwarves I do not believe we can win this battle. Our plan for victory is to divide our enemy, but we must think hard on what might befall us if we ourselves are divided."
Faramir drew out his blade and laid it out point first on the table before him. "I go to fight for Ithilien and all the free peoples of Middle-earth. Choose now if you are with us or against us, for there is no other choice." The hall was filled with the sounds of chairs scraping against the floor as the men of Ithilien rose and laid their weapons upon the table, but the elves and dwarves remained seated. Faramir's heart sank in his chest. The desperateness of his last words had not been exaggerated, and the Prince of Ithilien was silently cursing himself for not seeing this possible turn of events before.
Then Kolim slowly stood and placed his axe upon the table, "The dwarves will not stand idly by and watch evil re-take this land or any other land. Tomorrow we march with the men of Ithilien," Kolim turned to King Thranduil and bowed low, "and with the elves." Faramir smiled at the dwarf's gallant nature as he turned to face the King of Eryn Lasgalen.
The elven king slowly rose from his chair, a proud look upon his face. Slowly he removed his sword from its sheath and laid it on the table, "The elves will also march forth tomorrow at sunrise, and I will ride alongside Prince Faramir and Master Kolim."
As the rest of the elves added their weapons to the table and rose to join the others Faramir finally allowed himself a great sigh of relief. His army was once again whole and intact. The Prince wondered grimly how long it would stay that way. "Then we are united," his voice resonated throughout the large room. "Unfortunately, time dictates that our plans must be solidified while en route to the Pass of Poros. Today and tonight all must be prepared for the long march and battle ahead.
"We are the first defense for all of the western lands. We must not fail. We will not fail. Long has Gondor fought against evil, and it has prevailed, and so shall we." The Prince reached out to grab the hilt of his sword then thrust its blade high in the air, "Long live Ithilien! Long live Gondor! Long live the West!" In one voice all shouted back Faramir's battle cry and its echoes were heard throughout the citadel.
Thanks again for all of your wonderful reviews. They really brighten my day. So please, read on and enjoy.
Disclaimer: all characters, settings, and elvish language are strictly from the mind of J.R.R. Tolkien or inspired by him.
Chapter XI
Preparations for War
The deep, throaty sounds of men's voices filled the Meeting Hall of Minas Mallen echoing off the marble walls, ceiling, and floor. The bright sunshine from the newly risen sun set the walls aglow and cast everything within the room in a brilliant light, yet little could cheer the hearts of the peoples gathered within. The sense of concern and apprehension was almost a physical presence. The word had spread quickly of the armies to the east, and all present knew that 18 years of peace in Ithilien had come to an end.
Faramir stared at the faces. Some were like to his own, grim with age and the knowledge of what lay ahead. These were the men who had fought against Sauron for countless years while Gondor held fast against the strength of Mordor. The very men who had fought so bravely in the Battle of Pelennor Fields knowing their was little hope that the battle could be won, but hoping to distract Sauron so that the Ringbearer might go unnoticed through Mordor toward Mount Doom. Others were younger and more eager. These were ready to go into battle, having heard only the glorious tales told by their sires and grandsires and not yet understanding the consequences. How like his own son they were, foolishly wanting to run headfirst into a darkness that would forever change them. It would steal their innocence and replace it with cynicism and distrust.
Representatives for all the peoples of Ithilien were present at the War Council seated in a great circle around a large wooden table. On Faramir's right were the Dunadain, the hardy remnants of the men of Numenor. All wore the same expressionless mask, and none spoke for it would be a waste of time to speculate on something when all would be laid bare in a few moments. Rangers were ever watchful, ever weighing the situation to gain the upper hand.
In stark contrast to the Dunedain were the men to Faramir's left, the commanding officers of the Army of Ithilien. When it came to effectiveness and battle-readiness there was little difference between the two for all that separated the two groups was the lineage of the Dunedain. Yet the soldiers of the army did not appreciate nor follow the staid mannerisms of the Rangers. Even now the soldiers were joking and taunting each other, but Faramir knew this was not due to lack of concern or to not giving the current situation the seriousness it deserved. It was their way of coping with the stress of the coming days.
Kolim and his contingent of dwarves sat to the left of the soldiers. They too were laughing heartily at some jest or joke, but there was a fierceness within their eyes which hinted at a readiness to draw arms. Too many of their own had already fallen to this enemy, and they would have their vengeance upon them.
Between the dwarves and Dunedain were the elves, both of Edhil-e-londe and Eryn Lasgalen. Faramir had noticed a quiet resignation amongst the elves as of late. Not the resignation of a defeated people, but rather theirs was a sadness coupled with the determination of those who knew what must be done though the knowledge pained them.
With a sigh Faramir rose. All talk ceased immediately and silence filled the hall. "It has been many years since I was involved in a war council, and my heart is heavy that I should return to such a thing after this time of peace." Faramir paused. He could see the regret in his words reflected back at him in the eyes of every member of the council. "But all here have pledged to fight against the forces of darkness and protect the good peoples of Middle-earth. This is our duty. And if we here do as our duty calls us then none can stand in our way. Therefore I ask you do not grieve for the past, but strive to bring peace once again to our beautiful land." All who were seated around the table rose in response to these words. Many voices shouted and swords were raised high in the air. The Rangers had risen as one, and drawing their swords they brought their blades together in a steely crash. Proud voices bellowed "Gondor, Gondor!!!" and then a final "And Ithilien the Beautiful!!!" It was the response Faramir had hoped for. He waited patiently for the cheers to stop and for all to retake their seats.
"You will recall that after Sauron was defeated and Elessar ascended the throne of Gondor he forgave the Easterlings who dwelt in Mordor for aiding Sauron. It was his belief, and mine as well, that Sauron had enslaved these men and that they did his bidding out of duress and not fealty. And so, he forgave them their transgressions and gave to them the land surrounding the Sea of Nurnen in Mordor called Nurn. But we did not forget about these men, and as many of you know we have maintained a constant vigil on their activities and numbers. All this was done without their knowledge for we did not wish them to feel that we distrusted them and so make them our enemy, but it seems that they have been aware of our spies for some time now.
"Deep within the bowels of the southern Ephel Duath they were able to form an alliance with the orcs of Mordor. Here they built their smithies and forged weapons and armor even where they took the iron from the earth. That they had forged steel underground was known to us for we had witnessed men who journeyed into these mines every day and returned before nightfall. No weapon was ever seen leaving the mines only tools necessary for the growing of crops and the preparing of food. All seemed quiet from our vantage - until now.
"Two months ago I received the first news that all was not peaceful in Nurn. Our scouts reported orcs amongst the men. Weaponry and armor were now seen coming out of the mountains. Having harvested the summer's bounty the women and children had moved to the eastern shores of the Sea of Nurnen and planted their winter crops. All indications were the Easterlings and orcs were preparing for war, but they had not yet shown any signs of organization.
"Early this morning I received the first reports that they are at this very moment preparing to march on Ithilien. Their forces are gathering on the plains of Nurn, and the orcs are now leaving their hiding places beneath the Ephel Duath to join them. And if we erred in allowing the Men of Nurn too much freedom then the most grievous result is that we have miscalculated the numbers of Easterlings and orcs in Mordor. My last report indicates ten thousand in number, and perhaps more still hidden under the mountains. This is a force equal to that which attacked Minas Tirith in the War of the Ring. This is disconcerting to say the least, but more importantly it begs the question who is behind all this for orcs are too busy fighting amongst themselves to ever achieve this kind of an army without someone else to frighten them into submission
It is possible that the Easterlings themselves have achieved this, but I do not think so. Any whomever would want to control this great a number of orcs must also possess enough power to keep them in line. They must fear their leaders more than each other. The Men of Nurn possess nothing that I am aware of that could keep so great a number of orcs in line. My suspicions are that these Daequendi we have recently encountered are behind all of this. I believe their sudden appearance cannot be coincidence. Nevertheless, what their exact purpose is I cannot guess, and it is a dangerous thing when you do not know what compels your enemy.
"For this reason I believe we cannot delay. Earlier this morning I discussed the news with King Elessar, King Eomer, and King Thranduil. All were in agreement for haste, and as such Elessar and Eomer have already returned to gather their own forces for the coming battle. At most they will be three days behind us, but we are to be the front line. More scouts have been sent to Mordor to track the enemy, but for now I must assume that the armies are already on the march. Therefore, we must be prepared to march forth by sunrise tomorrow."
Faramir paused and looked at all who sat before him allowing the severity of his next words to gather more force, "These forces which have gathered in Mordor are greater than any of us expected. If they are allowed to cross over the Ephel Duath they will likely lay siege to Amon Galen and Minas Tirith. This is why we must make such haste, and cannot await the arrival of the men of Minas Tirith and Rohan.
"The mountains of the southern Ephel Duath have no usable pass for an army to cross over. For this reason the enemy must either turn first east and come round the easternmost point of the mountains and come to Ithilien from the south, or they must come west and seek one of the passes through the western Ephel Duath. If they take the longer route to the east then our scouts will have time to warn us and we will revise our strategy, but I do not think they will choose such a path. It would increase their march by more than twice as much, and will also bring them into the land of Khand. Orcs are hardy, but that long of a march would take its toll on their strength. Also, we have no evidence that the Variags of Khand have allied themselves with the men and orcs of Mordor. They might take such a great army marching through their land as a threat. Little good would it do our enemy if they were to lose much of their force before they even came to Ithilien.
"There are two major passes through the western wall of the Ephel Duath. There is the pass of Cirith Gorgor, but it is far to the north, and would take our enemy far out of their way. I do not think they will choose this path, but even if they do so our scouts will give us enough warning to modify our plans. There is also the Pass of Cirith Ungol, which seems more likely to be used due to its close proximity to Amon Galen. But there is another way in which a large army could cross the Ephel Duath.
"There is a pass which was not made by men or orcs, but was carved out by the springs of the River Poros. The pass lies south of here about 100 leagues. That part of Ithilien is all but deserted and we did not even know of it until the Rangers going to and from Mordor discovered it. The pass itself is not long, only about ten leagues, and it is not high. The way is narrow, however, and quite steep in some parts, but I believe this is the route our enemy will try and take." An old, grizzled man to Faramir's left rose and laid his sword upon the table, the unspoken request to speak. Faramir nodded in acknowledgement, "You may speak, Giltir."
"Thank you, your highness," replied Giltir. "It may be as you say and our enemy will come through the pass of Poros, but if they continue to the north and take Cirith Ungol instead will that not leave Amon Galen exposed, along with all our families?" Having spoken his peace the soldier sheathed his sword and took his seat. Many of the men around him nodded in agreement to his protest.
Faramir lowered his head in consideration. He knew this was a gamble, but his intuition told him he was right. In the years before the War of the Ring Faramir had spent much time in Ithilien keeping watch on the comings and goings of Sauron's minions, and he had always followed his intuition even then. It had never failed him, but that would be of little assurance to these men who left that which they held most dear behind in Amon Galen. The urge to pace around the table was gnawing at him, but he thrust it aside. Taking a deep breath he spoke, "You are correct to voice your concerns, Giltir, and in truth it is a gamble we are taking. But if we wait to determine which route they will take it will likely mean that we will have to fight them on the open land of Ithilien. Their numbers are vast, and that could mean the siege of Amon Galen. That is a war I do not wish to fight.
"We must trust in the speed and watchfulness of our Dunedain scouts. If they do go north to take Cirith Ungol then we will be advised, and I believe we will have enough time to move north and meet them before they come to Amon Galen.
Faramir studied the faces of the men of Amon Galen. His men. His people. Though most did their best to hide their looks of concern it was plain that many were lacking confidence in the solvency of the plan. They needed reassurance. "I am your Prince, but I know that even that is not enough to waylay your fears for your loved ones. However, I also will be leaving behind one dear to me. The Princess Eowyn shall remain in Amon Galen with your families. And if danger should approach she will not falter, for as you all well know the Princess is a fierce warrior. It was she who slew the King of the Nazgul, and her skills as a warrior will we be no less in defense of her own people."
The Princes words calmed the men's fears immediately. Princess Eowyn commanded a great respect from all the people of Ithilien as well as all of Gondor - less a Princess to most than a hero of the Battle of Pelennor Fields. Surely, none would dare attack Amon Galen while the slayer of the King of the Nazgul ruled within. Faramir took no such comfort from his own words, however. He knew his wife as only a husband could, and though he was proud of her accomplishments on the battlefield he knew only too well how human she was. But these were matters of the heart and had no place in a war council.
"Haste, again, is the order of the day. Though our foe is great in number it may not be necessary to face the entire force at once, but only if we can arrive at the Pass of Poros first. As I have said the pass is narrow, and therefore no more than five can walk abreast at any point. If we are waiting for them when they pass through I believe we can cut off small groups as they exit and these would be easily vanquished.
"The pass itself ends in a large vale bound on either side by the shoulders of two great mountains. On those mountains will our archers hide in the brush, there to lie in wait until my mark. Our foot soldiers will be positioned at the mouth of the vale to provide a target for the enemy. Once the enemy appears our foot soldiers will rush forward to meet them in battle. The orcs will hasten forward as well drawing them out of the pass and into the vale, but we will meet them in combat only briefly. Once they have been lured out to the edges of the vale that's when our cavalry will ride in from both sides to surround them and destroy them. Then will our archers help to finish off those remaining, but also they will prevent more orcs from exiting the pass into the vale. Once they have brought down as many of our foes as possible the cavalry will retreat behind the mountains. The archers will again hide in the brush and the foot soldiers will prepare for another attack. We must hold the vale until King Elessar and King Eomer arrive.
"Giltir, you will coordinate the soldiers of Ithilien and take the right side of the vale. Thranduil will provide you with archers in addition to your own."
The gruff man nodded in understanding, "It will be as you say, my lord."
"Kolim, are the dwarves prepared to embark tomorrow?"
The dwarf nodded. "The dwarves are ever ready, your highness. I will be departing immediately after this council for Khazad-bizar. We will march at dawn and meet you on the other side of the Emyn Arnen."
"Good," nodded Faramir then he turned to the captain of his Rangers, "Danethil you will coordinate with King Thranduil and Kolim. You three will be responsible for the left side of the vale." Faramir turned to address the council as a whole but stopped when he noticed Thranduil had risen from his seat. "Your highness, is there something you wish to say?"
Thranduil cast a sidelong glance at the dwarf contingent then back at Faramir, "I believe that you will find it is in the best interests of all if the dwarves were to aid Giltir and his men."
Faramir stared in confusion at the King of Eryn Lasgalen. "I fail to understand your meaning, your highness."
Thranduil seemed to sigh then stared meaningfully back at Faramir, "Then I shall speak plainly, Prince Faramir. Too many times have I met with treachery and deceit from the dwarves, and I would not have the lives of my people dependent on their unpredictable moods."
For a moment all was silent within the Great Hall of Minas Mallen, and the men of Ithilien held their breaths in anticipation of the Dwarves reactions. The initial shock wore off clearly, however. The dwarves rose to stand on top of their chairs in indignation. Curses were thrown at Thranduil, the elves of Eryn Lasgalen, and in some cases all elves in general. Some of the dwarves had gone so far as to wield their axes and make generalized threats of violence toward the elven king.
As if on cue members of Thranduil's delegation rose and surrounded their king, swords and knives drawn. Gray eyes flashed in their handsome faces as they retaliated in kind with harsh words and threats. Thranduil stood in the middle of this, quiet and calm, the eye in the middle of a storm. He was resolute in his decision.
Faramir had never felt frustration like this in his entire life. His suffering at the disagreements between Legolas and Gimli were as nothing compared to this. A sardonic smile flashed across his lips as he considered the sheer improbability that the elf and dwarf had ever become friends. Raising his hands in a gesture of restraint Faramir tried to speak above the din, "Please, good friends. Bickering and fighting amongst each other only aids our enemy. Please, return to your seats so that we might discuss this." But his words were to no avail.
A young dwarf with fiery hair and beard had walked over to the elven delegation and was waving his axe in the air. A sneer spread across Thranduil's lips as one of his elves moved forward to meet him, sword in hand. The soldiers of Ithilien's army looked amused, and many seemed to be discussing the finer points of wielding an axe versus a sword.
Faramir had now gone beyond mere anger. He flashed a look at Danethil and instantly the Ranger and his men were moving to the opposite end of the table. It was not his wish to bring arms against his allies, but the current situation called for desperate measures. The dwarf and elf were now circling one another in preparation for an attack. Silently Danethil came up behind the dwarf, and before he knew what had happened the Ranger had taken the axe from out of the unsuspecting dwarf's hands. Seizing the opportunity the elf jumped forward to attack. Danethil had anticipated this, and now wielding both sword and axe he blocked the elf's way, "I do not wish to fight with you, Faidhel, but I cannot allow this." Shocked by the Ranger's sudden involvement the elf did not answer, but after a few moments he nodded in ascension and moved back to once again protect his lord.
Turning around Danethil found the young dwarf whose axe he even now held in his hand, "And Master Zigil, I apologize for surprising you. I will return your axe to you, only please take your seat again so that Prince Faramir may speak." The dwarf's eyes were practically ablaze with anger. The other Dunedain had managed to bring the rest under control, and the room had grown quiet. All eyes were now turned to the dwarf, who realizing this muttered something in Dwarvish and slowly returned to his seat. Danethil turned to face his Prince and bowed, "The floor is again yours, my lord."
Faramir nodded slightly in acknowledgement. He was still angry at the outburst when so much hung in the balance. Staring first at Kolim and then at Thranduil he spoke, "It seems to me that the elves and dwarves at this council would do well to take a lesson from their own kind."
Faramir knew his words would mean nothing to them, but still he paused to let their meaning sink in a little. "When I first came to Ithilien much of this land was laid waste by the evil forces of Sauron, and I knew it would take a great deal of work and cooperation to bring her back to life. King Elessar and I spoke of how we could go about re-building the land, and he suggested I enlist the help of his friends Legolas and Gimli. I had met them and talked with them before, and in truth I thought they were an odd pairing. And when they both agreed to bring some of their people to this land to help in its transformation, I admit I had my doubts. I did not believe the elves and dwarves could work together.
"How wrong I was. Look around you. All that is before you is from the hands of dwarves, elves, and men. What beauty all these races have wrought here in Ithilien was even beyond my wildest dreams. Dwarven walls covered in elven tapestries. Roads laid by dwarven hands. Homes built of Elven ingenuity. And in my realm I witnessed the two working side-by-side, perhaps not always harmoniously, but always for a common goal and especially out of a common love for this land.
Faramir turned his gaze on Thranduil. Somewhere in the back of his head was the knowledge that the elf was tens of thousands of years old and his own life measured only in decades, but that mattered little to the Prince of Ithilien. If the King of the Wood-elves chose to allow ancient grudges to confuse the issue at hand then, by the Valar, Faramir would make him see reason. "You, Thranduil, who remained in Middle-earth when there were so many reasons for you to leave, how can you not understand your son's love for this land? He has heard the call of the sea, and yet he remains, striving to put right all that the powers of Mordor tried to destroy. Would you see all his hard work laid waste and his sacrifices be for naught because of prejudices borne of ancient deeds?"
Sitting straight in his chair Thranduil's face betrayed nothing of what was going on in the elf's mind. His eyes, though, seemed to soften a little. It was a small gesture, but more than Faramir could have hoped for as far as a reaction to his words. The prince continued to stare in silence at the elven king refusing to back down from his position. After some uncomfortable moments Thranduil dipped his head and conceded the Prince's point. Faramir knew that was all he would get from the stubborn elf.
Faramir now directed his attention to the dwarves. None but Kolim would meet his gaze, but Faramir knew that if he had verbally reprimanded a King of the elves then the dwarves must also receive harsh words. "You of the race of Durin, do you wish to see all your beautiful works destroyed? Is all that you have worked on for the last twenty years of so little value that you would throw it all away because of words spoke in anger? Gimli also has sacrificed much for this land for you are all aware that his heart dwells in the Glittering Caves of Aglarond, yet he has delayed the deepest desires of his heart for the greater good of all Ithilien's peoples. You who are of Gimli's own race, do you not see what it is he has worked so hard for? Would you see it all pass away?"
Even Kolim had to turn away from the Prince's fierce gaze.
Faramir's last words echoed off the marble walls of the great hall and then silence descended. Wanting to end this once and for all Ithilien's prince let the silence continue until long after it had become uncomfortable. Finally, he took a deep breath and then exhaled long and low. The Prince of Ithilien had made his presence known, but the Dunadan in him now began to take control again. "I will not deceive you. Without the aid of both the elves and dwarves I do not believe we can win this battle. Our plan for victory is to divide our enemy, but we must think hard on what might befall us if we ourselves are divided."
Faramir drew out his blade and laid it out point first on the table before him. "I go to fight for Ithilien and all the free peoples of Middle-earth. Choose now if you are with us or against us, for there is no other choice." The hall was filled with the sounds of chairs scraping against the floor as the men of Ithilien rose and laid their weapons upon the table, but the elves and dwarves remained seated. Faramir's heart sank in his chest. The desperateness of his last words had not been exaggerated, and the Prince of Ithilien was silently cursing himself for not seeing this possible turn of events before.
Then Kolim slowly stood and placed his axe upon the table, "The dwarves will not stand idly by and watch evil re-take this land or any other land. Tomorrow we march with the men of Ithilien," Kolim turned to King Thranduil and bowed low, "and with the elves." Faramir smiled at the dwarf's gallant nature as he turned to face the King of Eryn Lasgalen.
The elven king slowly rose from his chair, a proud look upon his face. Slowly he removed his sword from its sheath and laid it on the table, "The elves will also march forth tomorrow at sunrise, and I will ride alongside Prince Faramir and Master Kolim."
As the rest of the elves added their weapons to the table and rose to join the others Faramir finally allowed himself a great sigh of relief. His army was once again whole and intact. The Prince wondered grimly how long it would stay that way. "Then we are united," his voice resonated throughout the large room. "Unfortunately, time dictates that our plans must be solidified while en route to the Pass of Poros. Today and tonight all must be prepared for the long march and battle ahead.
"We are the first defense for all of the western lands. We must not fail. We will not fail. Long has Gondor fought against evil, and it has prevailed, and so shall we." The Prince reached out to grab the hilt of his sword then thrust its blade high in the air, "Long live Ithilien! Long live Gondor! Long live the West!" In one voice all shouted back Faramir's battle cry and its echoes were heard throughout the citadel.