Chapter 19 – THE HOUR OF WAR
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Taelyra sat atop the chestnut-coloured stallion, next to her father and brothers who were also on horseback. The four elves looked out across the Anduin Plain, eastward, to the sourthern tip of the forest men called Mirkwood.
Within this part of the forest, Celeborn had told them, was a hilltop named Dol Guldur. It was a former stronghold of Sauron, still steeped in his evil, and it was from here that the Lorien Elves expected the Dark Lord's assault to commence.
So far the Telerin elves had seen no movement but they sensed the approaching menace as acutely as an impending summer storm. All of them were dressed in full armour and their horses wore iron faceplates with chainmail draped across their powerful chests.
Taelyra's mount shifted beneath her as she looked back at the great regiments of Telerin Elves gathered on the Plain. They were armed and dressed for battle. The Lorien forces had joined them.
Two companies, totalling one hundred elves, both Telerin and Lorien, were marching northeast to aid Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, in the defence of his realm. It was early morning and the cold pale light was beginning to mix with the reddening of the sunrise making it difficult to distinguish the Loriens' greyish-green cloaks from the Telerins' weathered crimson colours. All marched with the same strong gait, their heads held high.
Taelyra wished Haldir were here to share the sight. It had been six days now since he'd departed to Helm's Deep with the Lorien archers. Six days and no word on how the battle had gone. Galadriel's Mirror gave no tidings. Nor had any scouts or messengers arrived back from Rohan.
Daintáro turned his horse and faced his children. "The time has come," he looked upon them solemnly. "We must lead our people out to meet our destiny."
"You have made me very proud," he continued. "I love you and am honoured to fight alongside you."
Looking each of them in the eye, his gaze was unwavering, his voice resolute. Taelyra felt a sudden prickling sensation in her eyes and blinked to clear her gaze. The early morning breeze cooled the flush that came to her cheek.
"We will not let you down, father," Kieran said. Rumil and Taelyra could only nod their agreement, overwhelmed by the emotion of the moment.
And then the moment was gone. Daintáro turned towards the Telerin army and shouted the command to prepare to march. Kieran, Rumil and Taelyra rode forth to take the lead of each regiment. As Taelyra rode past the elvish soldiers, she unsheathed Artanis. Her horse's gait lengthened and she held the shining blade high over her head.
A great shout rose from the army.
From beneath the eaves of the Lorien Wood, Celeborn and Ciriáran stood looking out upon the scene. The edges of the forest were teeming with Lorien archers. Some would follow directly behind the Telerins in order to launch the volleys of arrows at the enemy. Others would remain here at the woodlands' edge defending the Sacred Realm.
The Elvish armies began to march. Far off on the eastern horizon, dark clouds gathered and an ominous roll of distant thunder could be heard.
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"Do you see anything?" Kieran asked Rumil.
"No, nothing."
Rumil cast a look backwards over his shoulder; atop the slight rise his stallion stood upon he could see past the regiment that followed him, to the Lorien archers that made up the rear guard. He knew Calinë was in that company.
"Perhaps if you faced the direction we anticipate the enemy to approach from," suggested Kieran.
Rumil turned forward, grimacing at Kieran's sarcasm. He sighed deeply.
"What troubles you, brother?"
"The same concerns I have before every battle. I pray that I will be reunited with my loved ones afterwards."
"We will be the victors in this clash. Harbour no doubts."
"You are always so confident, Kieran."
"We are a formidable force. The Elves of Middle Earth united. You can be sure our enemies are praying right now as well, for swift and merciful deaths by our swords."
He said this last sentence loudly, so that those nearby could hear. A rumble of agreement resounded around them. In response, Kieran thrust his chin out further, his head held high; he looked ready for any confrontation.
He was a strong leader and fierce fighter like their father. It struck Rumil at that moment, how much his brother looked like their patriarch. He really hadn't noticed it before.
"I am going to check on Taelyra." With that Rumil urged his horse across the valley floor.
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Taelyra's temples were pounding and her grip on Artanis tightened. She hated this waiting. She far preferred joining a battle already in progress or even a violent ambush to this unbearable anticipation.
She looked down at her sword. Admiring its beauty had often served to calm her and provide assurance before battle in the past. Its hilt was encrusted with garnets: gems of the dark red colour that the Telerins favoured so. It had a strong silver hand guard that arched from the end of the hilt to the top, where the blade joined.
Artanis' metal was of the highest grade. None living knew the date of its exact origin but its workmanship could not be disputed. The blade had a subtle and graceful curve, ending in a sharp point. She had always thought the elegant design of the weapon befitting to a woman's hand.
Elvish script decorated the length of the blade. Apenia alata Noble radiance, it read on one side, Vanua ilpen Conquers all, on the other.
Alata. Taelyra pondered the word. Its other meaning was 'glittering reflection'. She thought that alluded to the weapon's ability to project images through psychic energy onto water's surface.
But she also wondered about another connection. The Telerins called the Lady of Light, Galatáriel. Alata meaning radiance and riel, a maiden crowned with a festival garland. Literally her ancient name meant, "maiden crowned with a garland of bright radiance."
Taelyra did not believe the similarity between Galadriel's name and the inscription on Artanis to be coincidental. The two were meant to meet eventually, perhaps to be reunited. Certainly when she'd first met Galadriel and presented her with the sword she had seemed to know something of its legacy.
And now was the time for Artanis to live up to its silvery words. Noble radiance conquers all….
She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of hoofbeats pounding to a halt as Rumil pulled up alongside her.
"Ready to slay some Orcs, dear one?"
"Yes. More than ready. I wish they would make themselves known."
As though the enemy had heard her, they finally appeared. The edges of the Mirkwood forest suddenly seemed full of movement. Innumerable twisted, dark figures lurking beneath the trees.
The glint of metal in their hands was unmistakable to the eye and the elves' ears heard their beastly cries. Both Rumil and Taelyra shouted to their regiments to ready themselves. Their horses neighed loudly at the sound of the enemies' arrows whining towards them. They held their shields up to protect them from the rain of weaponry. The sound of metal cascading off metal surrounded them. One unfortunate soldier next to them, fell with an arrow protruding out the back of his neck.
The rear guard of Lorien archers launched a responding volley as a great and hideous roar rose from within the forest. The dark skies opened and began to pour as the Orc army ran from the woods onto the plain towards them.