A/N: Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews. So, as promised, Legolas
and Gimli are finally reunited. Thank you all for your patience in this
matter.
Disclaimer: all characters, settings, and elvish language are strictly from the mind of J.R.R. Tolkien or inspired by him.
Chapter XIII
The Rescue of Gimli
"We shall rest here, briefly." Boromir hoped that the relief he felt was not betrayed by the tone of his voice. In truth, he had never so gladly accepted respite before in his life. His shoulder felt as if it were on fire, and it had grown stiff from the cold, winter wind that had blown continuously during the evening's journey. His thighs felt as if they were on fire from the long climb. Boromir estimated that the stairway had been about a mile long and their continued journey up the long passage some five miles. They were making good time, but something told the young prince that they should not tarry. The sense of urgency he had been feeling was growing, and Boromir could no longer ignore it for his own anxiety.
Grimacing, Boromir kicked his left foot back and grabbed hold of it with his hand. He pulled firmly trying to loosen the leg muscles so abused with the long climb. Looking around he saw the Dunedain had followed his lead, and he noted that he was not the only one who gritted his teeth against cramped muscles. The elves, on the other hand, seemed unaffected by the night's journey. They stood or crouched without regard to physical woes, if they even suffered any, and their eyes betrayed nothing but serenity and calmness. There were times when the Crown Prince of Ithilien truly loathed the elven race.
There were, however, two elves who did not wear the peaceful masks of their comrades. Serewen, or Morwen as she claimed, stared at the others with such hatred that Boromir almost felt her stare as palpable and threatening. What the depths of her malice and hatred were, he could not guess. Never before had he encountered such evil, and the thought was both exciting and frightening to him. Legolas also did not seem at ease. There was a great sadness behind his eyes and the look of one who has been betrayed. He had not spoken a word since they had begun their journey up the long staircase, and no one, not even the other elves, had dared to interrupt his thoughts.
Not for the first time that evening Boromir considered what the elf- prince might be thinking within the confines of his own mind. It was very clear to Boromir that Serewen's revelations to the prince had been a surprise, but perhaps such surprises about Thranduil's past had not been wholly unlooked for. Boromir treasured every moment he had with his father, although in truth he was not precisely looking forward to whatever punishment would be meted out for his disobedience. But between he and his father there was a bond and an intimacy that none, save his mother, came close to sharing. It was what held families together, and it was especially important between fathers and sons. Boromir had begun to suspect that Thranduil had not been a very open father.
Many aspects of Legolas's personality now became apparent in this new light. For one, the prince was a meticulous perfectionist. Everything he did was done with precision and grace, and in the extremely rare instance that he erred the elf would spend days dwelling on the oversight and berating himself for it. Perhaps this was the result of a son striving to prove to an unforthcoming father that he was worthy of love and praise, which he likely rarely received. And might this not explain the streak of melancholy that was ever-present in the elf's demeanor?
Though Thranduil and his son were of Sindarin decent, the elves of Eryn Lasgalen were Silvan elves. In Edhil-e-Londe there was singing both day and night, and the joyous sounds of elven laughter could be heard at all times. The Silvan elves were mischievous and they spent as much time and effort beautifying Ithilien as they did at play. Even in Eryn Lasgalen, where Boromir had once visited as a child, there were grand parties thrown almost every night with feasting, dancing, and singing. Yet, rare were the times Boromir had heard the fair voice of Legolas raised in song, and even at the elven festivals and parties in Ithilien he had participated only in the most rudimentary fashion. He was not so dour and stern as Aldaluin, the Captain of his guard, but there was ever a remoteness about him, something that separated him not only from Boromir and the men of Ithilien but from his own people as well.
"My Lord." Boromir turned sharply to face the captain of his guard. He had been so caught up in his own musings that he had not noticed Tolmoth approach. "My Lord, we have not yet made any plans for when we reach the Tower of Cirith Ungol."
Boromir nodded. The enemy would be expecting them, and if there were any possibility of arriving at Cirith Ungol unnoticed the company must decide upon that course now. "What say you, Tolmoth? Have you any ideas?"
"Aye, Lord, though I hold little hope that we will come to Gimli's aid unnoticed," said Tolmoth. "Obviously we must approach through Shelob's Lair, and that is dangerous enough for we are still uncertain if she yet lives. But her lair is only a part of the underground orc tunnels below the tower. Clearly the Daequendi have allied themselves with orcs, and perhaps others of the dark lord's servants as we saw in the Morgul Valley below. Once we enter those tunnels we may come upon orcs too numerous for our small group to handle. Yet, I believe the maze of tunnels may give us aid.
"After the war King Elessar and Prince Faramir ordered that the Morannon, Minas Morgul, and the Tower of Cirith Ungol all be rid of the foul creatures who inhabited them. I was in command of those who went to Cirith Ungol. The maze of tunnels there were nearly impossible to navigate at first, and the orcs had the upper hand in the battle. Often times they would circle around behind and take us at unawares. I lost many men and good friends in the dark places under Cirith Ungol. But my hardship may prove to be our good fortune. Though it has been nigh on 18 years since I was last in that place I am certain I can guide us through seldom used tunnels and perhaps bring us to the tower unnoticed."
"Why was the Tower of Cirith Ungol left unguarded after it had been rid of its foul inhabitants?" asked Aldaluin.
Tolmoth shook his head, "It would require too many men to properly and safely guard such a place, and hands were more desperately needed elsewhere. The Prince did not doubt that the tower would become inhabited again, but neither he nor the King could have imagined such a foe."
"Then Tolmoth you shall be our guide once we enter Shelob's Lair," said Boromir. "Let us hope that the great spider has found her rest, or at least is still too busy licking her wounds to notice us."
Firith pulled an arrow from his quiver and checked its fletching, "The elves who abided in Mirkwood know how to deal with such creatures. She will not find easy prey, if she happens upon us."
Boromir smiled. Firith and Lalaith were never lacking in all the assuredness and boldness of their race, and they never hesitated to voice such feelings. They did much to lift the spirits of the entire company. "So, we have a plan to reach the tower, but what then. You know the inside of the tower as well, Tolmoth, think you that we can move about without notice?"
"The tower will prove more difficult than the tunnels, I think. We will enter the tower by the Under-Gate, the only entrance from the orc tunnels beneath. The entrance is most likely guarded, and if we cannot take the guards quickly and quietly then we will have to face all that dwell above." Lalaith and Firith were grinning at one another again, and Boromir was certain they felt they could take the guards before they could raise the alarm. "Once inside we must search each level for the dwarf, of which there are three. This will take time, and there is great danger of being discovered. There is only one staircase leading between levels, and if there are many abiding in the tower then it will be difficult to use it without being seen. Furthermore, each time we search a room there is the chance of stumbling across our enemy. I can guide us, but the way will prove difficult I think."
Boromir sighed, "Then at the under-gate only four of us shall continue into the tower to search for the dwarf. A smaller group can search through the tower with less chance of being seen. The others will remain at the gate and keep guard over Serewen. I and Tolmoth will search for the dwarf with Legolas and an elf of his choosing." The other Rangers were too well disciplined to say anything, but he was certain that none approved of being left behind.
All eyes had turned to Legolas, who had said nothing during their discussion. The elf stirred slightly, and Boromir was certain Legolas's mind had been elsewhere. Seconds ticked by, and then the elf-Prince spoke, "Yes, I shall take Aldaluin with me. The Prince is correct. More would hinder our plans rather than help."
"Then we are agreed," Boromir spoke. "Let us continue on then. For good or ill, our journey is now almost at its end."
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Almost immediately the company had encountered the second set of stairs along their path. These steps wound back and forth along a sloping wall of rock, and were not as steep as the first set. Boromir's legs still ached and burned with each step, but it was bearable, and even if it was not the Prince had no other choice.
The dawn was still two hours away as they continued their ascent up the sheer rock face. The only light was the thumbnail moon that was rising into the night sky. Boromir hoped they would reach the entrance to Shelob's Lair under cover of darkness, but he knew it would be a race to do so. If they were seen from the Tower high above then the enemy would be waiting for them, and then there would be no hope of rescuing Gimli or probably even saving themselves.
Boromir climbed the last few steps of the stairs before they switched back and climbed again in the opposite direction. This last stretch of the staircase had brought them far to the south, and from this point Boromir could see the Morgul Road leading from the pass to Minas Morgul below. Boromir froze at the sight below him. A sharp intake of breath alerted the others that something was amiss. Legolas, who was directly behind him quickly moved to his side to see what it was that the crown prince of Ithilien was staring at. Far below them, an army was on the move. The eerie glow of the Morgul-road, which led from Cirith Ungol to Minas Morgul, highlighted the shadowy forms of soldiers as they snaked their way down the road towards the west.
Boromir turned to Legolas, "How many would say there are?"
"No more than 500. A very small force, if they are going to war."
Boromir nodded. He turned around to face the others. The company had halted in silence, awaiting news. Boromir motioned them forward so that he would not have to speak overly loud. "There is an army threading their way down the Morgul-road below us. Legolas estimates their numbers to be only 500, but they are heading towards Minas Morgul. What think you, Tolmoth?"
"I cannot say for certain. With so small a umber, they cannot mean to make war on Ithilien or Gondor. Perhaps they are only reassigning troops to Minas Morgul for some strategic purpose."
"Or perhaps it is 500 of these Daequendi. That would be a more serious foe than 500 orcs," said Aldaluin.
"Nay," Legolas had now turned to face the others, "those are orcs below us, but they are being led by 15 of the Daequendi."
"Perhaps they are aware of us coming and are moving the prisoner," spoke Tolmoth.
Legolas seemed to look far away towards Cirith Ungol. After a moment he turned back to the group, "No, I can sense that Gimli is still above us. He is not among those who go to Minas Morgul."
At last Boromir spoke, "If they go to war, then they will be well met by the men and elves of Gondor. So small a contingent, even with 15 Daequendi, will be easily defeated. If they are up to some other devilry, then there is little we can do at the moment. Come, we must hurry if we wish to reach the cover of the tunnels before the sun rises." Boromir forced aching legs to move as he took the steps two at a time. The other followed soundlessly behind him.
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A great wall of rock loomed up before the company. High above, where mountain met sky, the dim, gray light of early dawn could be seen, silhouetting the great cliff. Tolmoth and Andru moved a great boulder aside, and found torches, flint, and tinder underneath left by the Rangers and soldiers who had come to this place 18 years earlier. Each member of the company was given a torch to carry, but Tolmoth lit only the one he was to bear. He needed light to guide them in the eternal midnight of Shelob's Lair, but light could attract the enemy and so they would make do with a single light. Placing some flint and tinder in his pack Tolmoth rose and prepared to lead them into the tunnels.
Though Shelob's fate was uncertain the stench of her being still permeated the underground passageways built by the orcs. Boromir thought he might be sick for the reek, which hung in the air, and so he began to gulp draughts of air through his mouth. The Prince was somewhat heartened to see that Tolmoth's mouth hung open as he too fought the effects of the sickening smell.
The floor of the tunnels was smooth and the company made their way quickly and easily through the passageway. The path still rose before them, but the slope was gentler for which Boromir was very thankful. The tunnel rose straight before them, and they traveled for some time without coming across any other passages. Occasionally long strands of webs woven long ago by Shelob hung down into the path, the thick cords still sticky to the touch. The air hung thick and oppressive, and Boromir had to fight the urge to turn back for the cool, clean air outside.
It occurred to him that this had been the Ringbearer's path twenty years ago, and he and his servant had passed through it in the dark with only the despicable Gollum as their guide. Boromir glanced at Tolmoth and the torch he bore. Now, more than ever, he was grateful for that single source of light. In the impenetrable darkness of this place, Boromir was uncertain how far he could have gone. Perhaps hobbits were made of stronger stuff than men.
Suddenly Boromir became aware of a tunnel that forked off to their right. Tolmoth did not hesitate, but continued up the main path. It seemed quite some time before there was another fork in the path, this one heading off to their left, but still Tolmoth continued forward. More long minutes ticked by, and then another path forked off to the left. This one Tolmoth followed. Soon afterwards he forked left again, and shortly after he took a path to their right. On and on the company wound through the orc tunnels under Cirith Ungol, and soon even the elves were uncertain of the path they had taken or how they might ever find their way out again.
They made their way in silence through the vast maze of orc tunnels. At one point they passed a tunnel on their right from which the stench of Shelob seemed to emanate. This they passed by quickly, and if any detected that their pace had quickened from that place none let on. Boromir had lost all track of time and direction, but the weariness he felt told him that they had spent many hours beneath the earth. Finally, however, Tolmoth halted and pointed up ahead to where it seemed the tunnel suddenly ended, blocked by the stone of the mountain itself.
Tolmoth motioned to Legolas, Firith, and Lalaith. The elf-prince and Firith wielded their bows and set arrows to their strings. Lalaith held five daggers within her left hand and a sixth lay in her right. Tolmoth motioned the others to stand off to the side but next to the wall. Boromir loosened his sword within its scabbard and then drew it. Aldaluin and the other Rangers did the same. Legolas and Firith drew their bows and waited.
Placing his hand near a small boulder that lay on the ground Tolmoth smothered the torch with some water. Immediately all were thrown into utter darkness. Boromir's breath came loud to his ears, and he could hear the others around him as well. He felt the darkness encroaching upon him like an evil spirit, stretching out its long arms to steal away his spark of life. Suddenly a part of the rock wall began to swing inwards sending shafts of light into the dark tunnel. The door seemed to move agonizingly slowly.
Suddenly Boromir heard the sounds of the bows of Legolas and Firith loosing their arrows. Boromir saw their shafts as they sped through the doorway followed quickly by one of Lalaith's daggers. A strangled cry from within told the Prince that at least one had hit its mark. One more arrow flew through the open doorway, and then all went silent.
The form of Aldaluin could soon be seen in the light of the open doorway, and the others moved to join him. Looking into the hallway Boromir saw the forms of four orcs laying at the foot of a long stair. Three held the shafts of arrows within their throats, and one of Lalaith's daggers protruded from the neck of the fourth. The elves had given none of the orcs a chance to shout for help. Once inside the doorway, Tolmoth motioned for Legolas, Aldaluin, and Boromir to follow him as he proceeded cautiously up the stairway, while the other four began removing the bodies of the orcs to the darkened tunnel and binding the feet of Serewen.
The stairway traveled around in right angles, ever upward into the heart of the tower. After four turns of the stair they found the first door leading from the stairway. With weapons at the ready, Tolmoth opened the door quickly then jumped out of the way. A long tunnel ran out before them. Many doors could be seen lining the hall and a dimly lit window at the end, but no other tunnels branching off. Tolmoth shook his head and closed the door. Boromir guessed that the captain had reasoned that Gimli would have guards posted wherever they were keeping him, and so dismissed the empty hallway. The company again made their way up the stairs.
From somewhere up above a door slammed, and the sound of many feet could be heard coming down the staircase. Instantly the four ran back to the door they had just encountered. Quickly they entered into the deserted hall and closed the door behind them. The voices drew closer, and Tolmoth motioned them into a nearby room.
The room was small and covered in thick, gray dust. Good, thought Boromir, it appears this room is unused, and we will likely not be disturbed by the owners of those voices from here. Legolas stood at the door and listened as the voices drew closer. Tolmoth's caution in moving them from the open hallway to the room proved well founded as all heard the sound of the outer door being opened. The guttural voices of orcs became louder as they approached and then passed by the door concealing Boromir and the others.
The sounds dissipated, and soon Legolas opened the door to look down the hallway in the direction of the orc voices. After a few moments he drew in his head, and closed the door. In an almost imperceptible whisper he spoke, "The orcs turned left when the reached the window at the far end of the hall." Legolas turned his gaze on Tolmoth, "Should we follow them?"
Tolmoth shook his head, "That way leads to the battlements on the first level of the Tower. I do not think they would keep Gimli there. I think we must go higher up within the tower." Tolmoth opened the door, and after checking for any signs of the enemy he led the others out and back to the main stairway.
Boromir was beginning to curse the very idea of steps and climbing when they reached another door. Again, Tolmoth opened the door while Legolas stood with arrow set to his bow, drawn and ready. This time they were not disappointed. Boromir could see nothing of the hallway as he waited at the side with Tolmoth and Aldaluin, but as soon as the door had been opened Legolas had let his arrow fly, followed closely by a second. From somewhere down the long hall an orc began yelling, but he was given only moments before a third arrow cut off his cries.
Instantly Legolas was running down the hallway, Aldaluin and Tolmoth in tow. Boromir waited for a moment, listening for sounds that the orc's cries had been heard. He heard no sound from above or below on the stairs, and so he turned, closed the door behind them, and followed the others. Three dead orcs lay on the floor of the hall near a door that Legolas was quickly approaching. When the arrived Tolmoth threw the door open as Legolas prepared another arrow. The door opened, and Legolas and the other three remained motionless. They did not enter, nor did Legolas release his arrow.
Boromir came to a stop some twenty feet from Legolas and the others. A voice from within the room spoke low and threateningly, "Please come in, if you wish to end this dwarf's pathetic life. And by all mean, Legolas, keep your arrows aimed at me." Slowly Legolas dropped his bow, but he did not remove the arrow.
"Shoot him, Legolas! He will kill me either way if you…" the dwarf's gruff voice was suddenly strangled off as the hand of his captor squeezed tighter around his neck.
Boromir thought quickly. Clearly one of the Daequendi now held Gimli, likely with a blade to his neck. The others could do nothing in case that might mean Gimli should be killed at the elf's hands, but he was as of yet unaware of Boromir's presence. His mind raced furiously, searching for anyway he might distract the elf just long enough for Legolas to use one of his arrows. Reaching down he pulled a dagger out of his boot. He wore it as a last measure in case he was ever parted from his sword, but in truth he did not possess a talent for using the short blades.
"Now lay your weapons on the ground and kick them in here." Slowly the three complied with Legolas's Bow, and the swords of Aldaluin and Tolmoth clattering as they were kicked into the chamber. "Good. Now back away down the hall, but stay within my sight."
Boromir swore to himself and quickly ducked inside the nearest doorway. Pressing one ear to the door he listened. It was some time before he heard the dark elf speak again this time the voice sounded closer. He must be in the hall. "Get in the room. All of you." He was imprisoning them in Gimli's cell until he could get help. Boromir knew that as soon as the door closed on Legolas Gimli's life would be forfeit. Stealing himself he opened the door and jumped into the hallway, the dagger leaving his hand before he even landed. But Boromir's injured shoulder betrayed him, and the knife flew wide hitting the doorway and clattering uselessly to the floor. The distraction had been enough, however.
Gimli kicked hard at the knee of his captor. The elf cried out in pain at the same time a small dagger imbedded itself in the hand which held the knife to Gimli's throat. The knife fell from the elf's hand and Gimli dropped to his knees. Instantly, the other three were upon the Daequendi and had soon wrestled him to the ground. Legolas pulled one of his long knives from their sheath upon his back and raised it to strike, but before the killing blow could be leveled the dwarf cried out, "Stay!"
Legolas stopped himself, knife poised in mid-air. Without explanation the dwarf came to stand above the elf who was still struggling against his captors. Somehow in the confusion Gimli had laid hands on the dagger that Boromir had thrown. "So, you were going to slit my throat were you." The elf looked up at Gimli with absolute terror in his eyes. Grasping the hilt of the knife firmly in hand the dwarf leaned over the elf, "I think not!" In a single, fluid motion the knife ripped through the exposed neck of the Daequendi. Blood spewed forth from the gaping wound covering everyone in crimson spray. The dwarf rose with a grim, and oddly sad look on his face.
"Come," Tolmoth said. "We are certain to be discovered if we do not leave. Come." Everyone followed Tolmoth as he ran to the doorway and out to the stairway.
Legolas could not help but stare at the dwarf as they ran. The beard, which the dwarf had so proudly worn, was reduced to an inch or two. The elf could scarcely believe his eyes, and he wished more than anything to ask the dwarf what had befallen him. As if sensing the elf's thoughts Gimli turned to his friend and said, "Say nothing, Master Elf. If you value that long, golden hair of yours, then I would remain silent if I were you." For the first time in many days, Legolas smiled. It was good to have his friend back again. But the smile quickly faded from the elf's lips. Directly in front of them the door leading to the stairway had opened and orcs began pouring into the hallway.
Disclaimer: all characters, settings, and elvish language are strictly from the mind of J.R.R. Tolkien or inspired by him.
Chapter XIII
The Rescue of Gimli
"We shall rest here, briefly." Boromir hoped that the relief he felt was not betrayed by the tone of his voice. In truth, he had never so gladly accepted respite before in his life. His shoulder felt as if it were on fire, and it had grown stiff from the cold, winter wind that had blown continuously during the evening's journey. His thighs felt as if they were on fire from the long climb. Boromir estimated that the stairway had been about a mile long and their continued journey up the long passage some five miles. They were making good time, but something told the young prince that they should not tarry. The sense of urgency he had been feeling was growing, and Boromir could no longer ignore it for his own anxiety.
Grimacing, Boromir kicked his left foot back and grabbed hold of it with his hand. He pulled firmly trying to loosen the leg muscles so abused with the long climb. Looking around he saw the Dunedain had followed his lead, and he noted that he was not the only one who gritted his teeth against cramped muscles. The elves, on the other hand, seemed unaffected by the night's journey. They stood or crouched without regard to physical woes, if they even suffered any, and their eyes betrayed nothing but serenity and calmness. There were times when the Crown Prince of Ithilien truly loathed the elven race.
There were, however, two elves who did not wear the peaceful masks of their comrades. Serewen, or Morwen as she claimed, stared at the others with such hatred that Boromir almost felt her stare as palpable and threatening. What the depths of her malice and hatred were, he could not guess. Never before had he encountered such evil, and the thought was both exciting and frightening to him. Legolas also did not seem at ease. There was a great sadness behind his eyes and the look of one who has been betrayed. He had not spoken a word since they had begun their journey up the long staircase, and no one, not even the other elves, had dared to interrupt his thoughts.
Not for the first time that evening Boromir considered what the elf- prince might be thinking within the confines of his own mind. It was very clear to Boromir that Serewen's revelations to the prince had been a surprise, but perhaps such surprises about Thranduil's past had not been wholly unlooked for. Boromir treasured every moment he had with his father, although in truth he was not precisely looking forward to whatever punishment would be meted out for his disobedience. But between he and his father there was a bond and an intimacy that none, save his mother, came close to sharing. It was what held families together, and it was especially important between fathers and sons. Boromir had begun to suspect that Thranduil had not been a very open father.
Many aspects of Legolas's personality now became apparent in this new light. For one, the prince was a meticulous perfectionist. Everything he did was done with precision and grace, and in the extremely rare instance that he erred the elf would spend days dwelling on the oversight and berating himself for it. Perhaps this was the result of a son striving to prove to an unforthcoming father that he was worthy of love and praise, which he likely rarely received. And might this not explain the streak of melancholy that was ever-present in the elf's demeanor?
Though Thranduil and his son were of Sindarin decent, the elves of Eryn Lasgalen were Silvan elves. In Edhil-e-Londe there was singing both day and night, and the joyous sounds of elven laughter could be heard at all times. The Silvan elves were mischievous and they spent as much time and effort beautifying Ithilien as they did at play. Even in Eryn Lasgalen, where Boromir had once visited as a child, there were grand parties thrown almost every night with feasting, dancing, and singing. Yet, rare were the times Boromir had heard the fair voice of Legolas raised in song, and even at the elven festivals and parties in Ithilien he had participated only in the most rudimentary fashion. He was not so dour and stern as Aldaluin, the Captain of his guard, but there was ever a remoteness about him, something that separated him not only from Boromir and the men of Ithilien but from his own people as well.
"My Lord." Boromir turned sharply to face the captain of his guard. He had been so caught up in his own musings that he had not noticed Tolmoth approach. "My Lord, we have not yet made any plans for when we reach the Tower of Cirith Ungol."
Boromir nodded. The enemy would be expecting them, and if there were any possibility of arriving at Cirith Ungol unnoticed the company must decide upon that course now. "What say you, Tolmoth? Have you any ideas?"
"Aye, Lord, though I hold little hope that we will come to Gimli's aid unnoticed," said Tolmoth. "Obviously we must approach through Shelob's Lair, and that is dangerous enough for we are still uncertain if she yet lives. But her lair is only a part of the underground orc tunnels below the tower. Clearly the Daequendi have allied themselves with orcs, and perhaps others of the dark lord's servants as we saw in the Morgul Valley below. Once we enter those tunnels we may come upon orcs too numerous for our small group to handle. Yet, I believe the maze of tunnels may give us aid.
"After the war King Elessar and Prince Faramir ordered that the Morannon, Minas Morgul, and the Tower of Cirith Ungol all be rid of the foul creatures who inhabited them. I was in command of those who went to Cirith Ungol. The maze of tunnels there were nearly impossible to navigate at first, and the orcs had the upper hand in the battle. Often times they would circle around behind and take us at unawares. I lost many men and good friends in the dark places under Cirith Ungol. But my hardship may prove to be our good fortune. Though it has been nigh on 18 years since I was last in that place I am certain I can guide us through seldom used tunnels and perhaps bring us to the tower unnoticed."
"Why was the Tower of Cirith Ungol left unguarded after it had been rid of its foul inhabitants?" asked Aldaluin.
Tolmoth shook his head, "It would require too many men to properly and safely guard such a place, and hands were more desperately needed elsewhere. The Prince did not doubt that the tower would become inhabited again, but neither he nor the King could have imagined such a foe."
"Then Tolmoth you shall be our guide once we enter Shelob's Lair," said Boromir. "Let us hope that the great spider has found her rest, or at least is still too busy licking her wounds to notice us."
Firith pulled an arrow from his quiver and checked its fletching, "The elves who abided in Mirkwood know how to deal with such creatures. She will not find easy prey, if she happens upon us."
Boromir smiled. Firith and Lalaith were never lacking in all the assuredness and boldness of their race, and they never hesitated to voice such feelings. They did much to lift the spirits of the entire company. "So, we have a plan to reach the tower, but what then. You know the inside of the tower as well, Tolmoth, think you that we can move about without notice?"
"The tower will prove more difficult than the tunnels, I think. We will enter the tower by the Under-Gate, the only entrance from the orc tunnels beneath. The entrance is most likely guarded, and if we cannot take the guards quickly and quietly then we will have to face all that dwell above." Lalaith and Firith were grinning at one another again, and Boromir was certain they felt they could take the guards before they could raise the alarm. "Once inside we must search each level for the dwarf, of which there are three. This will take time, and there is great danger of being discovered. There is only one staircase leading between levels, and if there are many abiding in the tower then it will be difficult to use it without being seen. Furthermore, each time we search a room there is the chance of stumbling across our enemy. I can guide us, but the way will prove difficult I think."
Boromir sighed, "Then at the under-gate only four of us shall continue into the tower to search for the dwarf. A smaller group can search through the tower with less chance of being seen. The others will remain at the gate and keep guard over Serewen. I and Tolmoth will search for the dwarf with Legolas and an elf of his choosing." The other Rangers were too well disciplined to say anything, but he was certain that none approved of being left behind.
All eyes had turned to Legolas, who had said nothing during their discussion. The elf stirred slightly, and Boromir was certain Legolas's mind had been elsewhere. Seconds ticked by, and then the elf-Prince spoke, "Yes, I shall take Aldaluin with me. The Prince is correct. More would hinder our plans rather than help."
"Then we are agreed," Boromir spoke. "Let us continue on then. For good or ill, our journey is now almost at its end."
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Almost immediately the company had encountered the second set of stairs along their path. These steps wound back and forth along a sloping wall of rock, and were not as steep as the first set. Boromir's legs still ached and burned with each step, but it was bearable, and even if it was not the Prince had no other choice.
The dawn was still two hours away as they continued their ascent up the sheer rock face. The only light was the thumbnail moon that was rising into the night sky. Boromir hoped they would reach the entrance to Shelob's Lair under cover of darkness, but he knew it would be a race to do so. If they were seen from the Tower high above then the enemy would be waiting for them, and then there would be no hope of rescuing Gimli or probably even saving themselves.
Boromir climbed the last few steps of the stairs before they switched back and climbed again in the opposite direction. This last stretch of the staircase had brought them far to the south, and from this point Boromir could see the Morgul Road leading from the pass to Minas Morgul below. Boromir froze at the sight below him. A sharp intake of breath alerted the others that something was amiss. Legolas, who was directly behind him quickly moved to his side to see what it was that the crown prince of Ithilien was staring at. Far below them, an army was on the move. The eerie glow of the Morgul-road, which led from Cirith Ungol to Minas Morgul, highlighted the shadowy forms of soldiers as they snaked their way down the road towards the west.
Boromir turned to Legolas, "How many would say there are?"
"No more than 500. A very small force, if they are going to war."
Boromir nodded. He turned around to face the others. The company had halted in silence, awaiting news. Boromir motioned them forward so that he would not have to speak overly loud. "There is an army threading their way down the Morgul-road below us. Legolas estimates their numbers to be only 500, but they are heading towards Minas Morgul. What think you, Tolmoth?"
"I cannot say for certain. With so small a umber, they cannot mean to make war on Ithilien or Gondor. Perhaps they are only reassigning troops to Minas Morgul for some strategic purpose."
"Or perhaps it is 500 of these Daequendi. That would be a more serious foe than 500 orcs," said Aldaluin.
"Nay," Legolas had now turned to face the others, "those are orcs below us, but they are being led by 15 of the Daequendi."
"Perhaps they are aware of us coming and are moving the prisoner," spoke Tolmoth.
Legolas seemed to look far away towards Cirith Ungol. After a moment he turned back to the group, "No, I can sense that Gimli is still above us. He is not among those who go to Minas Morgul."
At last Boromir spoke, "If they go to war, then they will be well met by the men and elves of Gondor. So small a contingent, even with 15 Daequendi, will be easily defeated. If they are up to some other devilry, then there is little we can do at the moment. Come, we must hurry if we wish to reach the cover of the tunnels before the sun rises." Boromir forced aching legs to move as he took the steps two at a time. The other followed soundlessly behind him.
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A great wall of rock loomed up before the company. High above, where mountain met sky, the dim, gray light of early dawn could be seen, silhouetting the great cliff. Tolmoth and Andru moved a great boulder aside, and found torches, flint, and tinder underneath left by the Rangers and soldiers who had come to this place 18 years earlier. Each member of the company was given a torch to carry, but Tolmoth lit only the one he was to bear. He needed light to guide them in the eternal midnight of Shelob's Lair, but light could attract the enemy and so they would make do with a single light. Placing some flint and tinder in his pack Tolmoth rose and prepared to lead them into the tunnels.
Though Shelob's fate was uncertain the stench of her being still permeated the underground passageways built by the orcs. Boromir thought he might be sick for the reek, which hung in the air, and so he began to gulp draughts of air through his mouth. The Prince was somewhat heartened to see that Tolmoth's mouth hung open as he too fought the effects of the sickening smell.
The floor of the tunnels was smooth and the company made their way quickly and easily through the passageway. The path still rose before them, but the slope was gentler for which Boromir was very thankful. The tunnel rose straight before them, and they traveled for some time without coming across any other passages. Occasionally long strands of webs woven long ago by Shelob hung down into the path, the thick cords still sticky to the touch. The air hung thick and oppressive, and Boromir had to fight the urge to turn back for the cool, clean air outside.
It occurred to him that this had been the Ringbearer's path twenty years ago, and he and his servant had passed through it in the dark with only the despicable Gollum as their guide. Boromir glanced at Tolmoth and the torch he bore. Now, more than ever, he was grateful for that single source of light. In the impenetrable darkness of this place, Boromir was uncertain how far he could have gone. Perhaps hobbits were made of stronger stuff than men.
Suddenly Boromir became aware of a tunnel that forked off to their right. Tolmoth did not hesitate, but continued up the main path. It seemed quite some time before there was another fork in the path, this one heading off to their left, but still Tolmoth continued forward. More long minutes ticked by, and then another path forked off to the left. This one Tolmoth followed. Soon afterwards he forked left again, and shortly after he took a path to their right. On and on the company wound through the orc tunnels under Cirith Ungol, and soon even the elves were uncertain of the path they had taken or how they might ever find their way out again.
They made their way in silence through the vast maze of orc tunnels. At one point they passed a tunnel on their right from which the stench of Shelob seemed to emanate. This they passed by quickly, and if any detected that their pace had quickened from that place none let on. Boromir had lost all track of time and direction, but the weariness he felt told him that they had spent many hours beneath the earth. Finally, however, Tolmoth halted and pointed up ahead to where it seemed the tunnel suddenly ended, blocked by the stone of the mountain itself.
Tolmoth motioned to Legolas, Firith, and Lalaith. The elf-prince and Firith wielded their bows and set arrows to their strings. Lalaith held five daggers within her left hand and a sixth lay in her right. Tolmoth motioned the others to stand off to the side but next to the wall. Boromir loosened his sword within its scabbard and then drew it. Aldaluin and the other Rangers did the same. Legolas and Firith drew their bows and waited.
Placing his hand near a small boulder that lay on the ground Tolmoth smothered the torch with some water. Immediately all were thrown into utter darkness. Boromir's breath came loud to his ears, and he could hear the others around him as well. He felt the darkness encroaching upon him like an evil spirit, stretching out its long arms to steal away his spark of life. Suddenly a part of the rock wall began to swing inwards sending shafts of light into the dark tunnel. The door seemed to move agonizingly slowly.
Suddenly Boromir heard the sounds of the bows of Legolas and Firith loosing their arrows. Boromir saw their shafts as they sped through the doorway followed quickly by one of Lalaith's daggers. A strangled cry from within told the Prince that at least one had hit its mark. One more arrow flew through the open doorway, and then all went silent.
The form of Aldaluin could soon be seen in the light of the open doorway, and the others moved to join him. Looking into the hallway Boromir saw the forms of four orcs laying at the foot of a long stair. Three held the shafts of arrows within their throats, and one of Lalaith's daggers protruded from the neck of the fourth. The elves had given none of the orcs a chance to shout for help. Once inside the doorway, Tolmoth motioned for Legolas, Aldaluin, and Boromir to follow him as he proceeded cautiously up the stairway, while the other four began removing the bodies of the orcs to the darkened tunnel and binding the feet of Serewen.
The stairway traveled around in right angles, ever upward into the heart of the tower. After four turns of the stair they found the first door leading from the stairway. With weapons at the ready, Tolmoth opened the door quickly then jumped out of the way. A long tunnel ran out before them. Many doors could be seen lining the hall and a dimly lit window at the end, but no other tunnels branching off. Tolmoth shook his head and closed the door. Boromir guessed that the captain had reasoned that Gimli would have guards posted wherever they were keeping him, and so dismissed the empty hallway. The company again made their way up the stairs.
From somewhere up above a door slammed, and the sound of many feet could be heard coming down the staircase. Instantly the four ran back to the door they had just encountered. Quickly they entered into the deserted hall and closed the door behind them. The voices drew closer, and Tolmoth motioned them into a nearby room.
The room was small and covered in thick, gray dust. Good, thought Boromir, it appears this room is unused, and we will likely not be disturbed by the owners of those voices from here. Legolas stood at the door and listened as the voices drew closer. Tolmoth's caution in moving them from the open hallway to the room proved well founded as all heard the sound of the outer door being opened. The guttural voices of orcs became louder as they approached and then passed by the door concealing Boromir and the others.
The sounds dissipated, and soon Legolas opened the door to look down the hallway in the direction of the orc voices. After a few moments he drew in his head, and closed the door. In an almost imperceptible whisper he spoke, "The orcs turned left when the reached the window at the far end of the hall." Legolas turned his gaze on Tolmoth, "Should we follow them?"
Tolmoth shook his head, "That way leads to the battlements on the first level of the Tower. I do not think they would keep Gimli there. I think we must go higher up within the tower." Tolmoth opened the door, and after checking for any signs of the enemy he led the others out and back to the main stairway.
Boromir was beginning to curse the very idea of steps and climbing when they reached another door. Again, Tolmoth opened the door while Legolas stood with arrow set to his bow, drawn and ready. This time they were not disappointed. Boromir could see nothing of the hallway as he waited at the side with Tolmoth and Aldaluin, but as soon as the door had been opened Legolas had let his arrow fly, followed closely by a second. From somewhere down the long hall an orc began yelling, but he was given only moments before a third arrow cut off his cries.
Instantly Legolas was running down the hallway, Aldaluin and Tolmoth in tow. Boromir waited for a moment, listening for sounds that the orc's cries had been heard. He heard no sound from above or below on the stairs, and so he turned, closed the door behind them, and followed the others. Three dead orcs lay on the floor of the hall near a door that Legolas was quickly approaching. When the arrived Tolmoth threw the door open as Legolas prepared another arrow. The door opened, and Legolas and the other three remained motionless. They did not enter, nor did Legolas release his arrow.
Boromir came to a stop some twenty feet from Legolas and the others. A voice from within the room spoke low and threateningly, "Please come in, if you wish to end this dwarf's pathetic life. And by all mean, Legolas, keep your arrows aimed at me." Slowly Legolas dropped his bow, but he did not remove the arrow.
"Shoot him, Legolas! He will kill me either way if you…" the dwarf's gruff voice was suddenly strangled off as the hand of his captor squeezed tighter around his neck.
Boromir thought quickly. Clearly one of the Daequendi now held Gimli, likely with a blade to his neck. The others could do nothing in case that might mean Gimli should be killed at the elf's hands, but he was as of yet unaware of Boromir's presence. His mind raced furiously, searching for anyway he might distract the elf just long enough for Legolas to use one of his arrows. Reaching down he pulled a dagger out of his boot. He wore it as a last measure in case he was ever parted from his sword, but in truth he did not possess a talent for using the short blades.
"Now lay your weapons on the ground and kick them in here." Slowly the three complied with Legolas's Bow, and the swords of Aldaluin and Tolmoth clattering as they were kicked into the chamber. "Good. Now back away down the hall, but stay within my sight."
Boromir swore to himself and quickly ducked inside the nearest doorway. Pressing one ear to the door he listened. It was some time before he heard the dark elf speak again this time the voice sounded closer. He must be in the hall. "Get in the room. All of you." He was imprisoning them in Gimli's cell until he could get help. Boromir knew that as soon as the door closed on Legolas Gimli's life would be forfeit. Stealing himself he opened the door and jumped into the hallway, the dagger leaving his hand before he even landed. But Boromir's injured shoulder betrayed him, and the knife flew wide hitting the doorway and clattering uselessly to the floor. The distraction had been enough, however.
Gimli kicked hard at the knee of his captor. The elf cried out in pain at the same time a small dagger imbedded itself in the hand which held the knife to Gimli's throat. The knife fell from the elf's hand and Gimli dropped to his knees. Instantly, the other three were upon the Daequendi and had soon wrestled him to the ground. Legolas pulled one of his long knives from their sheath upon his back and raised it to strike, but before the killing blow could be leveled the dwarf cried out, "Stay!"
Legolas stopped himself, knife poised in mid-air. Without explanation the dwarf came to stand above the elf who was still struggling against his captors. Somehow in the confusion Gimli had laid hands on the dagger that Boromir had thrown. "So, you were going to slit my throat were you." The elf looked up at Gimli with absolute terror in his eyes. Grasping the hilt of the knife firmly in hand the dwarf leaned over the elf, "I think not!" In a single, fluid motion the knife ripped through the exposed neck of the Daequendi. Blood spewed forth from the gaping wound covering everyone in crimson spray. The dwarf rose with a grim, and oddly sad look on his face.
"Come," Tolmoth said. "We are certain to be discovered if we do not leave. Come." Everyone followed Tolmoth as he ran to the doorway and out to the stairway.
Legolas could not help but stare at the dwarf as they ran. The beard, which the dwarf had so proudly worn, was reduced to an inch or two. The elf could scarcely believe his eyes, and he wished more than anything to ask the dwarf what had befallen him. As if sensing the elf's thoughts Gimli turned to his friend and said, "Say nothing, Master Elf. If you value that long, golden hair of yours, then I would remain silent if I were you." For the first time in many days, Legolas smiled. It was good to have his friend back again. But the smile quickly faded from the elf's lips. Directly in front of them the door leading to the stairway had opened and orcs began pouring into the hallway.