Chapter Six: Isengard
Early the next morning, a group consisting of Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Herendil, Gandalf, and Gareth set off. With them traveled King Theoden and his best Riders (including Eomer, of course). Since Haldir's wound prevented him from traveling, he'd stubbornly told Herendil that they would discuss how he'd returned to life after they'd reached the Grey Havens. The ride would have been completely dark had it not been for Gareth's seemingly endless chatter. He talked about everything, and nothing, but never once mentioned Helm's Deep.
"Such a bright presence, even after all that has transpired. Had I not seen him first, I would have sworn that he was an elf child!" Legolas murmured, smiling as the boy got a chuckle from Herendil (who appeared a little more grim than usual).
"Aye. He's keeping our friend Herendil sane. I think that's why Gandalf is letting him come along." Gimli replied. Without warning, a dark shadow flew overhead, bringing a dark, foreboding aura onto the group.
"Nazgul!" one man shouted, as he pointed out the figure riding on the dragon's back. Fear rippled through the group as they watched the dark rider fly overhead.
"We must hurry!" Gandalf shouted, as Shadowfax broke into a gallop. Following Gandalf's lead, the other travelers spurred their mounts into action, breaking the spell of fear that the RingWraith had cast upon them. They covered several miles during the daylight hours, but even more during the night. By the time daybreak again came, they were within sight of Isengard. As they all gazed upon the destruction that had been wrought by Orcs, and then by the Ents of Fangorn Forest, Herendil shook his head in sorrow and pity.
"I had heard that this place was once very fair…………….will there be nothing left when this war is over?" Herendil asked, with despair in his voice.
"Things will soon set themselves to rights, Herendil. Green things will grow, and new lives will begin. And the sun will rise in the east." Gandalf said wisely, as he motioned for them all to move forward.
"He's right, laddie. Don't fret just yet." Gimli said, as they all rode onto the path that still existed that had once led to Orthanc, the tower of Isengard.
"Good morning to you! Do you have business in Isengard today?" a jocular voice asked, from just off the path.
"I believe we do!" Gandalf replied, with a laugh, then added, "Where may I find Treebeard?"
"He's on the other side, sir. You'll find him there." Another voice said, in response.
"Good. The rest of you remain, I will have a word with Treebeard." Gandalf ordered. With some sighs of relief, the weary riders dismounted and walked around. With curiosity aroused, Herendil went and took a look in the direction he'd heard the voices come from.
"Looking for us, Sir Elf?" the first voice asked, from below. Upon looking down, Herendil was surprised to see two very small folk sitting on a fallen stone pillar, with the remains of a picnic lunch between them.
"Indeed. I suppose the destruction of this place was just the right sort of picnicking entertainment?" Herendil asked, with a raised eyebrow.
"It was, especially since Treebeard was at the head of the cleanup here." The first said, in response.
"I see. So, what are your names, then?" Herendil asked.
"I am Meriadoc Brandybuck, and this is Peregrin Took. Merry and Pippin for short. What's your name?" the first asked, in turn.
"My name is Herendil. I remember in years long past that I had chanced upon meeting your kind. You are river folk, are you not?" Herendil asked.
"There is a branch of hobbits that lives near the river, but we live in the Shire. Where do you live, Herendil, sir?" Merry asked.
"I once lived in Lothlorien, but I have been away for many a long year." Herendil said, sadly.
"Ah, so you're homesick." Pippin said.
"Yes, very much so. I would like to go back and see it one last time, before I go to the Grey Havens." Herendil murmured, with a distant sadness in his eyes. Merry and Pippin nodded somewhat in understanding.
"Pippin! Merry! You rascals! Having a picnic while we were busy fighting, were you?" Gimli asked, as he shoved past Herendil, walking over to the two grinning hobbits.
"It appears so." Legolas said, with a quiet smile.
"And they didn't even invite us!" Aragorn added, enjoying the light moment. Gareth could only laugh as the adults questioned the two hobbits as though they were naughty children (which were what they looked like, after all).
"There's more where this came from. The barracks are full of food." Pippin said, trying to defend himself against the onslaught of questions.
"Better not be filled with Orc food." Gimli grumbled.
"Oh no! Most of it is man food. We threw out all of the Orc food." Merry said, with a grin.
"Care to have something to eat, your Highness?" Aragorn asked, turning around and asking a slightly bemused looking Theoden.
"No, I think I will wait till after I have a meeting with Treebeard to eat anything." Theoden replied. With a nod, Aragorn and the rest (including Herendil and Gareth) followed the hobbits to what remained of the men's barracks. As they settled to a makeshift meal, the hobbits explained all that had happened from the time they had been caught by the Uruk-hai to when they'd run into Treebeard, and the attack upon Isengard.
"Quite an eventful couple of days. So you two are the reason Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were in such a rush. And while they were following your trail, I was following theirs. They never did explain to me why they were in the forest in the first place." Herendil said, with a false accusing look in the trio's direction. Aragorn ignored the look, leaned back in his chair and nonchalantly puffed on his pipe, Gimli preoccupied himself with his lunch, and Legolas pretended to see something interesting out the window. Gareth merely shook his head, enjoying the sight of the supposedly responsible adults acting anything but, if only for a few moments.
"Look! Strider's back!" Pippin quipped.
"I've been here, but you haven't really noticed." Aragorn replied, dryly.
"Who's Strider?" Herendil asked, confused.
"It's a name I used when in the company of strangers." Aragorn replied, simply.
"Ah, I see." Herendil murmured, as darker thoughts crossed his mind.
"What's wrong, Herendil?" Merry asked, noticing the depressed look on the elf's face.
"It's nothing. I guess I need to walk in the sun for a while. I'll be back in a while." Herendil said, looking to Gareth and giving him a reassuring look before departing.
"I wonder what's bothering him. I've never seen an elf look so sad or so lost." Merry murmured.
"Merry, Pippin, there is something you must know about Herendil that only the three of us and Gandalf know. Now after I tell you this, do not treat him any differently than you would Legolas or even Haldir of Lorien." Aragorn said, seriously.
"You needn't worry about us, Aragorn." Pippin said, wanting to know what was so different about Herendil that set him apart from other elves.
"The reason Herendil had not been back to Lorien in 'many a year', is because he had been dead for almost an age. He was revived by the Ringbearer after he'd gone through the Dead Marshes." Aragorn said, his voice dropping to almost a whisper as he said that. Pippin and Merry looked shocked.
"You mean he's a walking corpse and we didn't even realize?!" Merry asked, horrified.
"No. Herendil is as alive as we are, but he is haunted by the memories of his former life. Middle Earth as it is now is strange and new to him. When he awoke in the Marshes, he had no idea that he'd been dead for an age. He didn't find out how much time had passed until we reached Rohan. And even then he didn't really have a chance to let it sink in, for almost as soon as we got there, we were heading to Helm's Deep and another battle. And there is still the question of what he is to do that no other elf could……….." Legolas murmured, allowing his sentence to trail off.
"Still, it's unbelievable that Frodo had awakened Herendil from death. I wonder what called Herendil back?" Merry mused.
"I don't know. I guess that that is a question only Herendil can answer." Aragorn said, as they waited for Herendil to return.
Herendil sighed as he sat down beside a small stream and started cleaning his armor again. As he cleansed his breastplate, he ran his hand over the engraved designs.
"The First War of the Ring. It seems as though it happened only a short while ago. As though my friends had only just died a short while ago………………….. The memories are still so clear." Herendil thought, as tears gathered in his eyes. Why had he been chosen to return, when so many others were far worthier than he? Was this yet another facet in Sauron's cruel design?
"Why do you shed tears, Elf?" a deep, rumbling voice asked, from above. Startled, Herendil looked up to find an Ent standing over him.
"I am mourning for friends long dead and good times long gone." Herendil replied, sadly. The Ent nodded his leafy head slowly in understanding.
"It doesn't matter whether you are elf, dwarf, man, Ent, or even halfling, where death touches, grief is felt. You are not the only elf I have seen mourning the loss of comrades. I saw others who came through here on their way home from a war that happened an age or so ago. They were all weeping for those fallen warriors." The Ent said, his ancient eyes distant, as though he were once again seeing the battle weary elves.
"So there were elves other than Lord Elrond and Haldir who'd survived the battle at the Gate. It gladdens my heart to hear that." Herendil murmured, as tears of grief gave way to relief.
"Yes. Gandalf told me to fetch you when the time came. He's wanting to meet with Saruman." The Ent said, with some disdain in his voice.
"Saruman…………………..formerly known as 'the White'. I wonder what caused him to fall?" Herendil mused, aloud.
"Maybe that will be explained at Orthanc." The Ent said, as Herendil finished cleaning his armor and strapped the breastplate back on.
"Might as well answer Mithrandir's summons. I don't want to contend with an angry wizard." Herendil said, half jokingly, as he stood and walked off. The Ent watched him go, with a knowing look in his ancient eyes.
Gandalf sighed and looked impatiently for the wayward elf.
"He wouldn't have gone far. I know he wouldn't." Gareth said, trusting in his Elven-friend completely.
"I know, young one, but he is certainly biding his time." Gandalf said, not unkindly.
"Here he comes. Seems he was able to get the Orc blood off of his armor." Legolas said, noting how the armor gleamed in the sunlight.
"It seems that he wasn't the only one. Theoden's men look cleaner than they had a little while ago." Aragorn commented, as Theoden and his Riders joined them as well.
"You're late, Herendil." Legolas chided.
"Don't start with me, Legolas. At least I wasn't playing fetch with a Warg." Herendil retorted, with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
"Don't go there, Herendil." Aragorn muttered, feigning insult.
"Hey, you talk like you've been around hobbits longer than you'd care to admit." Pippin said, with a smile. Herendil shrugged.
"Maybe, then again, maybe not, Peregrin. But it has been a long time and I guess it rubbed off on my brothers and me and I still carry it with me today." Herendil said, sobering as he remembered his brothers.
"Did your brothers make it through that battle, Sir Herendil?" Gareth asked, having noticed the returning sadness in Herendil's eyes.
"I don't know. I saw many of my cousins die before I met my own………………my own…………..I've said too much. To go on would only frighten you." Herendil said, clearly showing that he was getting upset.
"We know about that, Herendil, sir. And we're not afraid of you." Merry said, hoping to comfort the grieving elf.
"Enough of the chatter. We're going in, and, whatever you do, do not give heed to Saruman's voice." Gandalf ordered, as they entered Orthanc. Immediately Herendil noticed the incredible dark presence the tower held within it.
"This place is heavy with evil." Herendil murmured, as Gareth cowered beneath his left arm and buried his face in his side.
"Aye. Even a child of Men can feel it." Gimli said, as he put a comforting hand on Gareth's shoulder.
"Gandalf……………..what brings you here?" a soft voice asked, from the top of the stairs. All of them looked up to see an old man standing there.
"You know full well what brings us here, Saruman." Gandalf replied, evenly. As the two wizards confronted one another, Herendil continued to look around; there were presences all around the group that only he could feel. Most of the presences were curious about what was going on, while others were angry at the intrusion by the outsiders.
"Something else is here." Herendil whispered, but his comment went unnoticed by the rest. They were all looking intently at the figure on the stairs. Then the confrontation came to a head; Gandalf shattered Saruman's staff, thus rendering him unable to use magic. As they were leaving, one final attack was made on them. Wormtongue, who had returned to Saruman's side before the Battle of Helm's Deep, threw something from the top of the tower at Gandalf.
"Look out!" Pippin shouted, as the thing soared past and landed with a crash near them, rolling a little ways before it was finally stopped by Pippin himself.
"Hand that here, Pippin. I'll take care of that." Gandalf said, as Pippin carried the thing to Gandalf and handed it over. Herendil watched in silence as Gandalf tucked whatever it was into a sack he'd gotten from who knows where.
"Well, that takes care of that. Saruman and Wormtongue are now in the care of the Ents. And we must hurry on our way." Gandalf said, as they went back to where their mounts waited.
"Gandalf was right, I have seen many things my peers would never have even dreamed about." Herendil murmured, stunned by the outcome this visit to Isengard had caused.
"And you will see so much more, before your part in this war is done." Aragorn said, with an enigmatic look in his eyes. As they rode back across the countryside, they were ever wary of the dark Riders that would every now and again pass overhead. Then, in the second evening of the ride back to Helm's Deep, an urgent cry for help came from Minas Tirith. Along with this problem, Pippin had gazed into the palantir, the very thing that had been cast from the top of Orthanc. So now the palantir was in Aragorn's possession and Gandalf had rushed off with Pippin to Minas Tirith.
"So we're all going our separate ways again. I wonder if we'll all meet again." Herendil mused, as he watched Gandalf and Shadowfax disappear into the night.
"We will, have faith in that." Legolas reassured.
"They have their paths, and we have ours. King Theoden and Merry are heading to out to meet the rest of the Rohirrim and Gandalf and Pippin are on their way to Minas Tirith." Aragorn said, as they rode along with some newly arrived Gondoran Rangers.
"But what about our path, Aragorn? Where are we going?" Herendil asked, as he rode alongside him.
"You will soon see." Aragorn replied, and said no more. The ride continued in silence, as they rode ever nearer to an uncertain future.
"Elbereth protect us all." Herendil thought, as chill winds blew across the darkening landscape, heralding a darkness that was blacker than the darkest midnight any of them had ever seen.