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Chapter 11: First Blood
The next day was one of hard riding. Again, Seven rode with Elladan. They rode as hard as their horses could manage, and there was little opportunity for conversation. The morning after that came without a dawn. A darkness had come over the land in the night, turning the air brown and leaching color from the things around them. There was nothing in a breathable atmosphere that should cause something like this. Elladan told her that it was from Mordor. Like everything in this strange place, there was no scientific explanation for it.
The gloom hung over them like a shroud, yet they rode on. Seven's body was beginning to complain from the riding, but she knew hers was the easy part. She did nothing but hold on to Elladan. The Riders needed all their concentration and skill to keep up the breakneck pace and to encourage the exhausted horses.
The Riders moved with all the speed they could, but the Dead moved faster yet. Before they left the highlands, they shadow army overtook them and swept around the living riders. Again, the dread grew in Seven's mind, but she held on to Elladan and let events pass as they would. It was both strange and frustrating for Seven to have so little control over the events of her life, but for now it seemed that her place was simply to follow and wait.
As the Dead swept around them, Aragorn stopped the riders and called out loudly, "No! Remain behind us!" With that, the Dead hung back, ever at their backs. That day, the riders crossed the rivers Ciril and Ringló, and the day after that they arrived at a place called Linhir. As they approached they heard and then saw a fierce battle. Elladan told Seven that the people of Linhir were defending the place against the forces or Mordor. As they approached, she could distinguish the defenders and attackers.
The dread of the shadow army following them was nothing new to the riders, but at their approach, both sides of the battle turned and fled. Only one person remained, a bloodied and exhausted human. Aragorn spoke to him. He was Angbor, Lord of Lamedon. He was trembling, but whether it was from exhaustion, fear, or a mixture of both Seven could not tell. Aragorn told him to gather his forces and follow when they dared.
With that, the Dúnedain crossed the river and entered Lebennin. They rode for the rest of that day, pausing to skirmish with any enemy forces they came across. Again, Seven had to sit back and watch the others do the work. She had never trained to fight on horseback, and couldn't have fought effectively from behind Elladan, anyway. It had seemed logical to accompany the Dúnedain on this mission when she left, but now she seemed like nothing more than excess baggage. There was no way even for her to do anything about the frustration she felt.
That night, they stopped for a while, but Seven didn't rest much. She managed to sleep for an hour, but took to wandering the camp quietly. Legolas was singing again, and Seven walked over to him. He paused to smile at her, but continued singing. Seven stood quietly, listening. Eventually he stopped.
"I take it you could not sleep, lady Seven."
"I slept a little, but now I am restless."
He smiled softly and nodded. "As am I. We could not have continued, not with the pace we have been keeping, but I fear for Minas Tirith every moment we delay. If the city falls, it will turn the war against us. Are you aware of the circumstances of the war?"
"Somewhat. I am still somewhat unclear on the details."
"You amaze me, Lady Seven. You followed us, seemingly on a whim, without even understanding exactly what we were doing."
"I would like to understand more."
"That is easily done." With that, he explained the broad details of the war, from Sauron's rise in recent times, to the finding of the Ring, to the Fellowship and its breaking, until his arrival with Aragorn and the Dúnedain in Dunharrow. Seven interrupted from time to time with questions but listened quietly for the most part.
After Legolas finished explaining about the War of the Ring, she decided to risk a little honesty. "I am not from Middle Earth. You have suspected as much already. I cannot explain how I came to be here, but I would like to know more about it."
Legolas nodded. "Very well, but first: why can you not explain how you came to be here?"
"It is complex. Perhaps sometime I will feel free to explain, but I do not feel at liberty to discuss it."
"Very well. I will not push you for answers you do not wish to give." He explained the history of Eä, starting with the creation of Valinor and the fall of Morgoth, the Valar and the Maiar, the creation of Middle Earth, and the calling of the Elves to Valinor. He told of the creation of the Silmarils and Morgoth's theft of them with his ally Ungoliant, then the exodus of the Noldor from Valinor and the wars to regain the Silmarils, the chaining of Morgoth and the changing of Middle Earth. He also told her about the rise and fall of Númenor and the events leading to the War they now engaged in, hoping to destroy the Ring and Sauron forever. He hadn't lived most of the events, but had heard about them from Elves who had, many of whom still remained in Middle Earth. *
When he finished, the rest of the camp was beginning to stir. It wasn't yet daylight, but they had taken sufficient rest. They rode hard that day, pushing the enemy ahead of them. They day after that, they reached Pelargir where the Umbar fleet was anchored. There were fifty large vessels and numerous smaller ones. A few of the vessels had fled from fear of the Dead, but most of the fleet remained, strengthened by the forces that had fled from Linhir. A cornered enemy is the fiercest, and the army was strong.
Aragorn held up a hand and the company halted. "Now come! By the Black Stone I call you!" The shadow army swept past them, and it was all Seven could do to remain calm as they passed. Elladan half turned and told her to ready her sword. It was awkward to draw it behind him, and she had to scoot back to draw it, but she got it ready without too much difficulty.
Almost before she was ready, the company was riding, mowing through any resistance. The enemy forces fled, but in their madness could not organize an ordered retreat. As they rode, Seven transferred her sword to her left hand in order to better complement Elladan, who was fighting right-handed. She had trained with both hands and could fight nearly as well with her left hand as her right. Even so, she had no opportunity to fight until they had nearly reached the bank. A particularly brave Haradrim fighter tried to grab her foot and pull her off. She kicked him in the face, breaking his nose, and then took a swing at another who was coming at her with a knife, removing the hand holding the knife. Both fled, only to be killed by another of the Dúnedain.
The enemy fleeing, the Dúnedain reached the shore. The Dead preceded them, driving the mariners on the ships off them in mad terror. Slaves chained to the oars screamed in terror, but the Dúnedain dispersed among them to comfort them. Aragorn took the largest of the ships. At his command, the Dúnedain blew trumpets captured from the enemy and the Dead drew back.
Aragorn cried out to them, "Hear now the words of the Heir of Isildur! Your oath is fulfilled. Go back and trouble not the valleys ever again! Depart and be at rest!" **
With that, the King of the Dead broke his spear and the shadow army departed. The Dead finally had the rest they had been denied for ages, but now the to the Dúnedain fell the task of freeing the captives. The chains had to be broken off and many of the captives required medical assistance. Seven had only rudimentary training as a medic, but it was enough to clean and bandage wounds and refer the badly injured to Aragorn, obviously the most skilled healer of the group.
The action went a long way in relieving the frustration Seven had felt since leaving Dunharrow. Here she could do nearly as much as any of the Dúnedain. While they were still tending the wounded, Angbor arrived with a small army of horsemen. With the Dead finally departed, they dared approach. Aragorn greeted them warmly. The knowledge that he was the heir of Isildur held them in awe, and many had responded to the summons because of that title that might not have otherwise.
* This is an extremely short version of the Silmarillion. For more information, email the author.
* p. 157-158