Chapter 10: The Army of the Dead

            The company passed through the darkness, unable to mark time.  When it seemed that even Seven could take no more of the irrational terror, they finally passed out of the caves and into a deep chasm.  It was so deep the sky was only a thin ribbon far above them.  Now free of the caves, the company mounted their horses.  One of the two dark-haired Elves in the party—Elladan, she thought—beckoned her. 

            "Perhaps you would ride with me, Lady Seven?"  She had some difficulty distinguishing the twins, at least from behind, but as he turned, she realized that it was indeed Elladan.  Seven nodded, and he reached down a hand to help her up behind him.  She sprang up easily and gripped his waist lightly.

            Legolas rode ahead of them, Gimli seated behind him.  "The dead are following," he said.  "I see the shapes of Men and of horses, and pale banners like shreds of cloud, and spears like winter-thickets on a misty night.  The Dead are following."

            Ahead of Seven, Elladan answered.  "Yes, the Dead ride behind.  They have been summoned."*. 

            For some reason, that renewed Seven's irrational fear.  Elladan must have felt her shudder.  "You need not fear, lady.  They want only to be free of their vow."  Seven squeezed his waist lightly in acknowledgement.  In her mind, she knew she was probably in no danger, but the dread hanging over her would not fade.  Simply knowing that it was illogical was not enough to disperse the fear.  After Chakotay died, she had dealt with the grief by telling herself crying was illogical.  It would not bring him back, so it was nothing more than a waste of energy that could be spent on work.

            As they rode, Seven pondered the events that had just taken place.  Out of the caves, the fear weighed less heavily on her, but it was still present.  Undoubtedly, the path under the mountain range had saved much travel time, but there was more to it than that.  Glancing back, she could see nothing, but still dread hung over her, seeming to emanate from behind.

            In the dim light, she caught the flicker of movement, but whenever she tried to focus on it, it disappeared.  The visible aside, she had no doubt there was, indeed, an army of the dead following them.  It seemed that in this place, such things were possible, despite the fact that they defied all rational or scientific explanation.  She tried to assimilate that information calmly, but it left her quivering inside, questioning everything she had every known to be true.  More than anything else Seven had experienced in Middle Earth, this hammered home to her that this truly was a different dimension.  The laws of science she had trusted all her life did not hold true here.

            Riding hard, the company soon left the ravine, which ended so abruptly they could have passed through a transporter.  They passed through towns where people ran and hid from their passing.  Just before midnight, they arrived at the Hill of Erech.  A stone approximately two meters in length was half buried in the ground at the top of the hill.  Aragorn blew the horn that Elrohir handed him, and a moment later, Seven heard an answering blast—distant and diffuse, as if from a great distance.

            Aragorn dismounted and called aloud, "Oathbreakers, why have ye come?"

            "To fulfill our oath and have peace."  The voice sounded as if it had come from far away.

            "The hour is come at last.  Now I go to Pelargir upon Anduin, and ye shall come after me.  And when all this land is free of the servants of Sauron, I will hold the oath fulfilled, and ye shall have peace and depart for ever.  For I am Elessar, Isildur's heir of Gondor."**

            Despite Seven's initial distaste for the concept of heredity, in Aragorn just then she saw what it could mean.  His voice was powerful and his presence more commanding than any Starfleet Captain.  She understood now why people followed him so readily.  It was something she had not seen in anyone else in Middle Earth, and the idea that he was the descendent of kings began to hold more significance for her.  Aragorn unfurled a black standard, and they made camp, but few slept at all, and then only dozing.  The dread of the journey still hung over all of them.

            The dread hanging heavily over her, Seven could not sleep, so she wandered around the camp quietly.  She heard singing before she saw the singer.  Legolas was standing a few yards away from the others, singing softly to himself.  He greeted her with a smile, and she walked over to stand beside him.

            "I take it you could not sleep, Lady Seven?"

            "No."
            "I am not surprised.  Few even of the Dúnedain are sleeping."

            "I have heard the word Dúnedain before, but I do not understand what it means.  Please explain."

            "It means 'Men of the North.'  The Dúnedain are Men descended from the ancient land of Númenor, which was lost at the end of the Second age, some three thousand years ago.  A few Elves remain who remember those days, but I was not yet born when Númenor was lost."

            Seven remembered that he had told her that Elves do not age.  "There are those among your people who have lived so long?"

            "Yes, and even longer."  He smiled softly.  "There are a few yet in Middle Earth who were born when the world was young.  They are nearly as old as Middle Earth itself."  He sighed.  "It still seems strange to me that you know nothing of any of this."

            "I am not a spy."

            "I wasn't saying that you are."

            "You already accused me of it."

            "Yes, and I owe you an apology."

            "What has changed that you no longer believe me to be a spy?"
            "No one in their right mind would take the path we are taking."  Legolas chuckled quietly.  "Any spy with hidden motives would never have made the journey through the caves.  I do not understand who or what you are, but I believe now that you are not a spy.  Perhaps one day we will have time to compare stories until we both understand, but for now, you ought to rest, even if you cannot sleep."

            "Very well.  Thank you."

            "Good night, Lady Seven."

            With that, he slipped off into the night, leaving Seven alone.  The designation 'lady' was a strange one, but apparently it was a term of respect in this culture.  She could not guess how many years Legolas had meant when he referred to Elves who were nearly as old as Middle Earth, but if this age had already continued for three thousand years and since she had heard it referred to as the Third Age, it was logical to assume Middle Earth's recorded history stretched back several thousand years beyond that.  She had known long-lived species before, but the concept of living that long was difficult for Seven to conceive.  Shaking it off, she went to try to rest.

* p. 52

** p. 53