Authors Note:
Thanks to everyone who stood up and made themselves heard over the comments made by Nightowl. I probably should have just ignored the review for what it was but a combination of things in my personal life led me to dignify her with a response. Anyhow, I wish to reiterate that I do not mind constructive criticism (see Morchaints remarks as a good example of this) but it is a pet hate of mine to have my OFC called a Sue. Fortunately, I have great supporters it seems (thanks to Jocelyn, Wilwarin, Emilie and Sigil Galen) so I shouldn't let labels get to me. Also thanks to Power of the Book who was perceptive enough to guess what I was attempting to do by having Melia leave for the Sunlands. I was starting to wonder whether I had completely stuffed my intentions in this regard. Anyhow, we are up to the penultimate chapter. I'm grateful for everyone who joined me in this dark journey.
Chapter Nine
Anumet
In truth, Legolas was nowhere as mercurial as he appeared when he strode out of the tent following the news that Melia had returned to the Sunlands. He was furious at her undoubtedly, furious that she would attempt to coerce his departure from the war by such a demand. However, he was also forced to remember that she would have made her decision in the wake of being confronted by the full measure of what he had done in Axinar and that realisation dulled his rage somewhat. Even Legolas could not deny that his actions in Axinar were somewhat barbaric; to say nothing of that child he had inadvertently killed. How would Melia had reacted knowing that it was for her that he had embarked upon such a trail of carnage? While it did not lessen his anger at her departure to the Sunlands, he wondered how else could she have reacted, knowing that she was capable of driving him to such extremes?
Legolas knew it was not the matter of his journeying to the Sunlands that was so important to Melia but rather the choice to discard his need for vengeance, to let the hatred go and accept that life went on despite its ugliness. As Aragorn had said to him once, life was unfair and hard, with no concessions made to those who lived it. All one could do was take each day and live it to the fullest. Melia wanted him to let go of his hate and even though Legolas knew that this was sound advice, he also railed against how she was willing to force this choice upon him. It should be his decision whether or not he gave up his vengeance, not because he was compelled to appease a wife horrified by what he had done in her honor.
However, the more he thought about it, the more he began to see that this was not some vast conspiracy by his friends and his wife to rob him of his due. They were trying to help, each in their own way. Aragorn had endured much since arriving in Haradwraith and discovering his actions in those unfortunate Haradrim villages. Even Legolas had ceased to believe that the stain of blood on his hands could ever be washed away, not after spilling so much of it. He remembered that child, that nameless boy who would forever live in his memory as a testament to what blind hatred could accomplish when unleashed. He flinched at the sad wonder of pain on the boy's face before death took him. Legolas had known then he had crossed a line and it was a line he had continued to intrude repeatedly, driving a wedge between himself and Aragorn had valiantly held the alliance together in the wake of his behaviour.
Gimli had ridden all the way to Minas Tirith, alone to bring Melia back in order to help him. Despite his anger at what was done without his knowledge, Legolas could not help being moved at the affection shown by the dwarf in his efforts to help. Even if it was ultimately the worst thing he could have done, Legolas knew that Gimli had undertaken the mission for the very best of reasons. The grief he saw in Gimli's eyes at Melia's ultimatum had been real and not because that she had left but because he had been in some part responsible for it.
After a night in his tent, ruminating on everything, Legolas' rage had calmed somewhat but he still was undecided at what to do.
It was true that he could not leave his army when he was the commander of the elves but then he knew that were he gone, the elves would have little difficulty following Haldir under Aragorn's leadership. His leaving was inappropriate but not impossible. Melia's journey to the Sunlands would take many weeks and in that time, he could be at Mahazar already, making good his promise to Dallanar that Legolas would burn his city down around his ears. While he no longer wished to kill innocents in the destruction of Mahazar, he still wanted to kill Dallanar. That need burned inside of him with greater intensity that all the power of the Valar and Eru himself. The thought of letting the man live after what he had done was so unacceptable that Legolas could barely stomach it and knew that the reason for his outrage at Melia's actions stemmed largely from this.
He had accused of her leaving him and perhaps to some extent, he was right. She did have a tendency to flee when it became difficult of her to cope. However, they had been married for almost a year and in that time he had come to know that she loved him, without hesitation or doubt. He knew what she had braced herself for by becoming his wife and pretended not to notice when she took specific note of lines appearing on her face and the beginnings of decay that would see her an old woman in time while he remained young as always. By marrying him, she had forgone the possibility of ever growing old with the love of her life, of knowing that in the afterlife they would meet again. She had accepted the inevitable pain and the tragedy of their future because she loved him. The woman who was willing to sacrifice as much as they both had for this great love of theirs, would not have left him to punish him.
She was trying to save him.
She wanted to him to let go of his hate because he was not accustomed to feeling such loathing without it changing him irrevocably. Humans did not have an eternity to live with their mistakes unlike elves. Melia was mindful of this, Legolas was certain. She did not wish him to become twisted with vengeance but no matter how much Legolas wanted to go to her or send word that he would soon be on his way, he could not. He could not bring himself to lie to her that he intended to leave Dallanar to the others, not after what the man had done. His vengeance was like a powerful drug, clenching his innards while it was not satisfied, making him wild with an intense rage over which he had only recently began to exert some control.
Eru help him, he could not let Dallanar get away with what he had done.
He spent the night ruminating about everything that had happened to him and knew that this last hurdle he could not cross, no matter how much it may cost him. When Dallanar was dead he would ride to the Sunlands and bring her home, he would explain to her why he had done what he had and she would understand because she loved him. When he explained it to her face to face, she would see that it was necessary. Melia loved him too much too stay angry for very long and this advantage he would use to convince her that her place was at his side and that from Dallanar's death, they would survive the chaos the man had plunged their lives. Eden Ardhon would be rebuilt and all of this ugliness would be forgotten. As soon as the fighting was done, nothing could keep him away from going to her.
But not until then.
************
"Estel," Legolas found Aragorn outside his tent at first light. The Gondorian king never slept late and was often the first on his feet at dawn. Legolas guessed it was a habit formed during his years as a woodsmen and Ranger. In accordance with his daily rituals, Aragorn was enjoying the small fire outside his tent whilst sitting on a small stool, watching the sunrise with a cup of warm cider.
"Legolas," Aragorn rose to his feet at the sight of the elf, uncertain of what to expect after their exchange the night before. That he called him Estel instead of Aragorn bode well however.
"Where is Gimli?" Legolas asked quietly, aware of Aragorn's trepidation and not blaming him for such concerns considering their last encounter.
"He is still sleeping I think," Aragorn answered. "The journey was long and dwarves are not meant to travel such great distance."
"He continues to surprise me with his resilience," Legolas remarked and then fell silent for an instant as he gathered his thoughts to speak.
"Estel I am sorry for my conduct last evening," the elf apologised after an awkward pause. "I should not have taken out my anger for Melia's decision upon you. You did what you thought was best for me and I cannot fault you for that, not when I certainly earned an intervention due to my recent behaviour."
Aragorn did not show Legolas his intense relief but he felt it nonetheless. "We did not mean to interfere, either of us but we were afraid for you. We were afraid that you would become lost in your hatred and I could think of nothing else at the time to make you see that."
Legolas nodded in understanding. "I know," he reached for Aragorn's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You would not be the friend you are if you did not. I just wished it did not end up as it did."
"Legolas," Aragorn met his gaze. "You surely do not intend to let her go?"
"No I do not," Legolas said firmly. "But I cannot leave Estel, I simply cannot. If I were to go now, I would hate her for forcing into making such a choice and I do not wish to hate her. She is right, in my heart, I know she is right. I need to walk away but I cannot, it twists me up inside simply thinking about it. For everything Dallanar has done, he must pay."
"That choice is yours," Aragorn replied, deciding that he was done telling the elf what to do. Legolas' final journey towards his restoration would be a road he had to take alone. "I simply do not wish to see you both end in tragedy."
"We are bound for tragedy Estel," Legolas said with a faded smile, "it is an inevitability I have become accustomed to. When we are done at Anumet and Mahazar, I will go to the Sunlands and I will explain to her that my remaining to fight was for the best."
"I understand," Aragorn replied. As king, he was grateful that Legolas was not leaving them because the elf was needed in the war effort, however, as his friend, Aragorn was less certain and was rather grateful that he was not forced to make a similar choice. Still, he hoped Legolas knew what he was risking.
Even for the sake of the war.
*************
Once the decision was made to force a confrontation with the Easterling Confederacy, things began to move at a heady pace. The morning after the war council had met, the army paused for a day to make its preparations. The Rohirrim and elven cavalry were given their orders to proceed to Anumet first, to ensure the safety of the western army when they arrived to spring their trap upon the enemy. As anticipated, Eomer insisted on leading the cavalry despite the fact that he was still recovering from injuries sustained at Cordoba. However, short of gagging and binding him in rope, Aragorn knew that there would be no convincing the horse lord to allow someone else to lead in his stead. Nevertheless, Aragorn whispered discreetly in Haldir's ear to keep an eye on Rohirrim king. Knowing Eomer's stubbornness to accede to the limitations of his strength, it was a necessary precaution.
Legolas maintained his decision that Haldir should ride with Eomer to Anumet even though he fought to resist the urge to take charge of the elven contingent himself. He could not deny that he wanted to be the first to meet Dallanar in battle but once again, reminded himself that the war needed to be won before he could exact his vengeance on the Haradrim king. Besides, it was his plan to draw the enemy to Anumet and he should be with Aragorn when that trap was finally executed. With Gimli back among them, it felt inappropriate that the trinity that comprised of himself, the dwarf and Aragorn should be broken when they were about to face battle. His conditioning as one of the Nine Walkers was held in too much reverence for Legolas to even think about leaving when it was time to fight what was possibly be the most decisive conflict in the Desert Campaigns.
The army lingered a little more than a day as their numbers were broken up with the departure of the cavalry. A few horse drawn wagons and dromas remained but the bulk of the riders had left to begin their journey to Anumet.
With the establishment of an alliance with the western kingdoms, Kirin departed with Pallando and the cavalry in order to join his own army. The High Chieftain had news of the attack to bring to his people, not to mention the considerable part they would play in the taking of Mahazar once the army of the west had ensured there would be no one to stop them. Kirin also advised that it was best that the western army slept by day and travelled by night. For the pace needed to reach Anumet swiftly, every advantage was a necessity. Aragorn was especially grateful when Kirin showed them how to make lanos, a substance the natives used to keep infant's skins from burning under the harsh sunlight. It seemed to apply just as well to those with fair skin.
It was sound advice considering they would have to double their pace to reach Anumet before Pallando began planting the seeds of disinformation that would send the Easterling Confederacy hurrying towards the Anumet hills to engage them. The army resumed movement the next evening, marching a good deal of the time at double pace which was no easy thing to do considering that their packs were heavy. Despite the coolness of the night, the twilight did not save them from the scouring winds and the constant assault by sand. The pace was back breaking and Aragorn hoped that he was not driving his men too hard to reach an impossible goal. However, each night after taking a scant number of hours to rest, they were on their feet again, ready to march.
Very soon, they had left the Wall behind them and the desert began to thin from seemingly unending dunes of sand to a harder, coarser terrain of sedentary rocks. Sparse vegetation covered the landscape, comprising of flora that did not possess many leaves but rather thick stems for water storage. They discovered new creatures as well, not as absurd as the dromas but odd nonetheless, some even dangerous. A few of the men who had waded into the river without caution had learnt the hard way of the great lizards that dwelt there. The creatures possessed an elongated head with a snout that protruded outward like an extended finger. Their mouths filled with razor sharp serrated teeth and possessed tough leather hides impervious to small knives and required long daggers or broadswords to penetrate. Their ability to appear on the surface of the water as little more than a harmless log caused a number of men their lives in a spectacle of blood and screaming.
Despite the losses, the advance into the enemy territory continued at a relentless pace. Following Kirin's advice to travel by night had the added boon of ensuring that their presence went largely unnoticed. Naturally there were patrols to ensure that they were not discovered by any of the natives since the frequency of small villages on this side of the Wall grew in number the nearer they approached the Belt. Those unfortunate enough to make the discovery were taken prisoner since the western army could not risk their plans being thwarted by their revelation of their present whereabouts to those who might have reason to care.
Meanwhile Aragorn noticed Legolas' thoughts drifting far more frequently away from battle as his gaze rested towards the east. The king of Gondor knew that the elf was missing his lady dearly and wished to go to her but his need to kill Dallanar held him in place. Aragorn could not deny that Legolas had sufficient justification in his revenge against the king of the Haradrim but Aragorn could not help but wish that Legolas would just go to the Sunlands as Melia asked. When Legolas had killed the child in Axinar, it had been an accident. The grief he showed at the death he had caused was profound and Aragorn believed that if he had it to do over again, Legolas would have acted differently. However, killing Dallanar would not be an accident and considering that an elf fully enraged would have unfair advantage over a human, his actions could be tantamount to murder.
Dallanar deserved to die but Aragorn would not have it so at the cost of Legolas' soul.
Still Aragorn understood Legolas' reasons for remaining. Aragorn could no more leave his men if Arwen had summoned him home than Legolas could. It was his will that had brought the elven army to Haradwraith. True, that will was propelled by anger and hatred but his leadership was undeniable. Becoming king or the commander of an army meant sacrifices and Melia had forced an unfair demand upon Legolas in her effort to save him. At first Aragorn had not thought deeply about this, wishing only to see his friend and his lady reconciled but upon reflection, understood the elf's feelings on this matter. He only hoped that Legolas choosing his responsibilities over his wife would not cost him too dearly.
Meanwhile the cavalry under the leadership of Eomer and Haldir arrived in Anumet in good time. The hills were nowhere as intimidating as the wall but Eomer could understand what Faramir meant when he called the terrain untenable. Horses would have little difficulty making their way through the meandering trails of the steep hills but oliphants were another thing entirely. The weight of these beasts upon hillsides with soil that crumbled easily was nothing short of perilous and any commander attempting to bring oliphants into Anumet should be killed as a lesson to others in Eomer's opinion. Fortunately, this great disadvantage solidified Faramir and Legolas' plan of making Anumet the battlefield for their coming confrontation.
Upon their approach to Anumet, they were assailed by a great sandstorm which should have been reason enough for them to take shelter. However, Anumet was surrounded by a number of small villages and Eomer decided that the opportunity to slip into these hills without notice during this time was too good to miss. The journey through the sandstorm was no easy feat however and they remained connected to each other in some instances because of rope, so that none would be lost in the desert. Pallando was able to lead them through the lashing winds to the hills which offered some measure of shelter which they sorely needed after their ordeal through the blizzard of sand.
The small caves in the hills proved to be of good use while they sat out the sand storm since many of them were suffering minor ailments from the combination of heat and abrasion from the tiny grains of sand that had assailed them during the storm. The storm lasted over two days where the cavalry were forced to utilise as much shelter as these caves could provide. However, a good number of them were nonetheless forced to remain in the open since the caves could not house them all. Pallando however was determined to begin his journey to Mahazar and nothing Eomer could say was able to prevent the Istar from leaving the safety of the caves to begin his journey. Haldir however, was not as concerned because he had more experience with wizards than the Rohirrim lord.
Once the weather had settled once more, the Rohirrim emerged from their hiding place and found the landscape scoured with sand but relatively unchanged. Scouts sent on patrol were soon able to return with assurances that their gamble of entering Anumet during the sandstorm had proven fortuitous since the surrounding villages showed no indication of being aware of their presence. Setting up sentry positions across the hills, the cavalry lay in wait like a spider in the shadows of its web waiting for the arrival of their comrades or the enemy, whichever came first.
Eomer found Haldir's abrasive manner much like his own in that they both said what was on each other's mind without needing to soften their words with diplomacy. While Legolas, at least the Legolas Eomer had known before this war, was more guarded in his statements, Haldir had little difficulty expressing himself no matter what the subject. There were more than a few occasions when the ire of the Rohirrim were raised by Haldir's blunt comments. However, Eomer was no expert in subtlety or diplomacy either and had made similar faux pas in dealing with the elves. Both men developed a good rapport over time and soon began to form a friendship Eomer was confident would stand the test of time.
As the time drew closer for the approach of the western army, Eomer sent out more patrols and his Rohirrim scouts soon discovered that the enemy was converging at the small border town of Wynath that sat on the edge of Sanara Belt. The Easterlings, Haradrim and the Variags were massing in great numbers and Eomer was finally given proof that Pallando's bid to plant information was correct because it appeared that the enemy were preparing for an offensive. The wizard himself returned not long after this discovery was made revealing that there was little reason to travel to Mahazar when the enemy was already on the move.
Pallando's news not only proved the success of his mission but also revealed the desperate plight of the Haradrim who had been forced to empty out all its garrisons and enlist all its reserve troops to join the battle alongside the Easterlings and the Variags. Mahazar was now empty of all troops save a hundred or so who would keep the peace during this time. A state of a martial law had been imposed on the city and very few were allowed to leave its confines or venture out after the dark. In truth, these restrictions only serve to aid the cause of the Bors who were approaching from the Belt's eastern flank.
Not long after Pallando's return from the Belt, the western army arrived at Anumet under the cover of darkness. Their arrival in the hills beyond the Sanara Belt coincided with the departure of the Easterling Confederacy from Wynath. Dallanar, having received the planted information that the western armies was making their way to the Belt by way of Anumet, convinced his allies that the hills would be a perfect place for an ambush. Believing the armies of Gondor, Rohan and the Eldar to have just emerged from the wall, the enemy made its way to Anumet with no idea that of the trap that awaited them in turn.
***********
Bright glitters of hot embers drifted away into the night air, carried away on the dry, raspy wind. The fire cackled robustly in the centre of their circle, casting shadows across all their faces as the mood among the comrades in arms settled into one of contemplation. The Easterling Confederacy was a day away and would arrive in Anumet by their best estimation, before sunset the next evening. Sentries were already positioned strategically for this eminent arrival to deal with scouting parties that Dallanar would undoubtedly send to determine whether or not the way was clear for the Confederacy army.
The war council had decided the trap would not be sprung until nightfall. Since Dallanar's army would be arriving shortly before sunset, he was sure to make camp once his scouts had revealed that the hills were safe for the purpose. Aragorn had moved the bulk of the western army to the other side of the hills, to ensure their presence remained a secrecy until it was time for the ambush. The plan weighed heavily upon the element of surprise and if successful, would cripple the bulk of the enemies' forces. As it was the western army had divided its forces in order to deliver a surgical strike to each theatre of opposition. The rankers and the bulk of the cavalry would be engaging the enemy in the hills. The rest would proceed to the outskirts of Anumet, where the Easterling oliphants were waiting to crush the fleeing western army when Dallanar sprung his own plan into action.
Archers and a sizeable contingent of Rohirrim warriors armed with lances would deal with the enormous beasts. While Aragorn was not comfortable with killing the creatures, there was no other choice when their masters could use them to such deadly efficiency. Eomer and Haldir would lead this rear attack once again, having proven that they could work well as a team. The rest of them would deal with the enemy in the hills, leading the rankers, the archers and cavalry in a coordinated attack planned with the greatest scrutiny and attention to detail. For what was at stake, they dared not do otherwise.
Tonight, all the preparations that could be made had been done so. There would be tasks ahead when the sun rose in the morn but these were incidental to the efforts all ready made. Prior to his arrival at the campfire to join the other members of the Ruling Council, Aragorn had taken a walk through the encampment and soaked in the mood of quiet anticipation among the men and elves that would be fighting tomorrow. For them, he could sense a feeling of completion, that at last they would accomplish something decisive. The earlier rift he sense between men and elves had thinned to acceptance, which pleased Aragorn to no end. To win the day, it was imperative that his army was able to fight as one.
"I wish this night and the day following will pass quickly," Eomer declared, breaking the silence around the campfire with that rather startling statement.
"Are you in such a hurry to fight?" Aragorn met his gaze with a brow raised.
"If it would mean an end to the waiting, yes," Eomer said without repentance. "I have little patience for the damnable limbo in between battles."
Aragorn dropped his eyes to the fire and produced a little smile. It was easy to forget how young Eomer was when one could only see him as the seasoned Rohirrim warrior and king of the Mark. He was the youngest member of the Ruling Council and while he was one of the most intelligent and able men that Aragorn had ever had the pleasure of calling friend, there were moments when his youth was revealed by his natural impulsiveness.
"Do not worry," Aragorn said after a moment, "come dawn there will be much to occupy your time until the attack in the evening. Tonight, you should concentrate on resting since you are not completely recovered from your injuries."
"If I can ride, wear mail and carry a sword or lance into battle, I am recovered enough," Eomer stated defiantly, bristling in annoyance at the mention of his wounds. There were moments when the King of Gondor really did sound like a hen.
"Do not bother Aragorn," Faramir interrupted. "He is too much like his sister. I can never pin her down when her mind is set upon a course either."
"Perhaps when the babe is born, she will settle a little," Imrahil remarked.
"Not likely," Eomer snorted sarcastically, knowing his sister far better than any man at the fire, including her husband.
"I must agree with Eomer on that point," Faramir replied with an affection smile as he thought of his golden haired love, with her sunny disposition and the freckles across her nose he had great pleasure in mapping when they were in bed together, "and on the point that I wish tomorrow would come quickly. We have been in this land almost seven months. Eowyn's time cannot be far away. I shall miss not being present for the birth of my son."
"A son? You are certainly confident," Legolas commented with a little smile.
"Eowyn is certain," Faramir explained, "and I have learnt never to distrust her word."
"Eldarion will almost be more than year old by now," Aragorn sighed wistfully now that the talk had moved to children. The image of the child chortling at the antics of the puppy Aragorn was forced to buy him filled his mind and engendered such fierce of emotion of longing within his heart that Aragorn could feel it ache within his chest. It was almost as powerful as the need to see Arwen. "He was starting to make sounds when I left. I am certain he will be able to say words by now."
"I would have liked to have spent more than one night with my wife," Eomer remarked producing a little smile on Imrahil's face. "She should not be alone so soon after becoming the queen of Rohan."
"My daughter is capable," Imrahil said softly, trying to allay Eomer's until now, unspoken concerns about Lothiriel. "She will manage."
"I do not doubt that," Eomer replied, "but I wish I was there with her nonetheless."
"Lorin is accustomed to waiting for me," Gimli replied, surprising everyone with the mention of his lady's name. The dwarf seldom spoke about his wife and much of his silence had to do with his crusty demeanour. "Still, we dwarves are unaccustomed to all this open space. I would like to go home to Aglarond and see the Glittering caves once more."
"We all have loved ones awaiting us," Aragorn declared, "perhaps if we win the day tomorrow, we will not have to leave them again for a good while. This war has taken its toll upon all of us and I will be glad for a chance to end it finally. I think on some level even the enemy will be similarly disposed, though they may not appreciate it if they are defeated."
"I do not think this land can take much more war," Gimli answered in agreement, remembering the devastation of Axinar and all the other villages he had seen since entering Haradwraith. "They were starving when they came to Minas Tirith. It is worse now."
"Indeed," Faramir confirmed with a grim nod. "When Pallando and I travelled to the Belt, we saw the hardship that is running rife throughout this country. They need food and they need to be able to focus on the business of growing crops instead of raising armies. What they need is a leader who is more concerned about his people's welfare than maintaining any lasting enmity between themselves and the western lands."
"That will not be easy to find," Legolas interjected. "They have been bred with a natural hostility towards the western lands thanks to Sauron and Morgoth. Centuries of conditioning will be difficult to break."
"We must find men like Castigliari," Aragorn commented.
"Which will be difficult considering how Dallanar rewarded the general's actions upon his return from Minas Tirith," Legolas countered, feeling a measure of sorrow for the noble warrior who had chosen to do what was right above his loyalty to his corrupt king.
"We must try nevertheless," Imrahil insisted. "We must place in power someone who understand the needs of his people and who will ensure that they do not war against us again."
"The only way to do that is to leave a garrison behind," Aragorn stated.
All eyes turned to Aragorn, "you mean to make Haradwraith a province?" Faramir asked.
"For the moment, there is no alternative," Aragorn replied. "I have spoken to Kirin about this prior to his departure. He agrees that Haradwraith must be controlled and that we must maintain a presence within this country."
"You mean to keep some of our people here?" Faramir looked at Aragorn.
"I do not think it will be as unwelcomed as some might think," Imrahil remarked. "I have spoken to some of our soldiers and a good number of them are intrigued about what lies in this part of the world. I think given the opportunity, they would not find it so odious to be stationed here for a time."
"You may have some volunteers from the Rohirrim as well," Eomer added his own voice to the discussion.
"I think we are being premature," Legolas reminded them, "we should at least try to defeat the enemy first before we attempt to carve up their territory."
"Very true," Aragorn agreed with a little laugh that was shared by the others. "We should get some rest," he said rising to his feets and saw that his comrades were similarly disposed to disbanding for the night, "we have a long day ahead."
And an even longer night, he added silently.
****************
Dawn came with far greater swiftness than anyone anticipated and as the camp broke up with the division of their forces, more patrols scoured the hills in stealthy vigil. As of yet, there was no sign of the enemy but there was no doubt that Dallanar and the Easterling Confederacy would make their appearance soon enough. Aware that anticipation could be a dangerous distraction, Aragorn and his comrades kept the attention of their army focussed upon their duties and the coming battle.
Anumet was a collection of hills surrounded by ravines and gullies carved out by the water flow of the Sanara River in better days. Most likely Dallanar would be expecting the western army to enter Anumet by the way of these passageways and would sensibly take up position in the hills above when he launched his ambush attack. Unfortunately, the Haradrim king would have to lead his own army through those very same passages in order to reach the lofty heights required for his attack and it was during this moment of vulnerability that the western army would spring its trap.
Archers had taken up position above the ravine, their bows armed for the impending assault. These were mostly comprised of the elves, in particular those from Eryn Lasgalen whose reputations as bowmen had no peer anywhere else in Middle Earth. Legolas and Faramir would lead the archers in the initial barrage while Aragorn and Gimli would lead the rankers in the gullies and ravines after the archers had done their worst. Imrahil would direct the cavalry while Eomer and Haldir embarked upon their own mission to subdue the oliphants that would be awaiting them when they emerged from Anumet.
By mid afternoon, the approaching army was seen in the distance and the western army took up their places, waiting in their appointed hiding places for the inevitable arrival of scouting parties. It was not easy thing to hide an army six thousand strong but they managed to remain concealed thanks to Pallando's magic who ensured the enemy saw nothing they could report back to Dallanar as being suspicious. By the time the sun had set in the horizon, they could hear the approach of the army marching from the east. Tremors were felt in the ground giving away their advance as footsteps marched purposefully into Anumet.
Dusk seemed to keep pace with the sequencing of their ambush and the enemy moved into position, unaware of the invisible web in which they had become entangled. Shadows loomed as the sun sunk into the horizon and the air became charged with anticipation. The Confederacy sensed none of this. The mixture of stealth, cunning and magic ensured they remained oblivious to the danger awaiting them. Meanwhile, a portion of the western army, led by Gimli, approached the enemy from the rear, ensuring that when the trap was sprung there would be no escape. Every connecting passageway was filled with soldiers, waiting for the right moment to emerge. Archers lined the walls of the ravine unseen, watching the advance in the midst of the looming shadows and as the day began to dwindle into night, the sands in the hourglass of their attack continued to drain.
***********
The significance of this battle was not lost upon Legolas Greenleaf.
As he stood beyond the sight of the enemy, at the top of the ravine wall through which they were presently passing, Legolas knew that this was probably the most important engagement of the war. If they defeated the enemy here, all the battles after this would be merely obligatory until they reached Mahazar as conquerors. He lifted his gaze and saw the other elven archers running a line across the wall, their bows armed and ready to shoot. There was no excitement among them, no thrill of victory but rather a grateful anticipation that this bloody conflict was at last drawing to an end. He supposed this too was his guilt to bear.
After all, the manner in which he had led them in this war had sullied any notions of honour or glory for them. As enraged as they had been at what had happened at Eden Ardhon, even the youngest of them knew they had crossed the line in Axinar and had turned from the injured victims in this conflict to the brutal aggressors. Legolas knew that when the last elf crossed over the sea to Valinor, they would do so with the stain of Haradwraith upon their conscience.
He shook such thoughts out of his head because they would avail him nothing at this point. Staring across the chasm that separated the walls of the ravine, he saw with his keen elven eyes that Faramir was also poised and ready for attack. The human archers were assembled in much the same way as the elves, though Faramir was counting on his signal to attack because the elves were able to see hear better than they could and would be able to tell when was the best time to launch their assault. It would be the archers that who would draw first blood and prompt the rest of the western army into attack. They would begin the initial assault to send the enemy into disarray.
The enemy was directly beneath them in all their numbers and there never be a better time than now to begin their assault.
Cupping his hand over his mouth, Legolas gave the signal in the imitation of a bird's gentle cooing. The sound was clear enough to reach Faramir on the other side of the ravine and vague enough to blend into the natural sounds of the evening. Indeed, the enemy below did not notice anything amiss in the soft trilling noise that sounded decidedly bird like and continued on their way. However, its effect upon those who did recognise what it signalled, was profound indeed. Faramir's archers moved closer to the edge, using stealthy steps as their primed bows were aimed into the ravine. Legolas approached the edge with his own bow, given to him by Galadriel during the quest, joined immediately by the rest of his men as they cast their gaze into the ravine and aimed their arrows at the enemy.
"Si!" Legolas shouted.
The word swept through the ranks archers and gave the enemy below little more than a second to react before the barrage of arrows were unleashed upon them. From the other side of the ravine, a similar release was made and suddenly the air within the ravine became a deadly killing zone of arrows as each projectile met its mark with ruthless efficiency. The Easterlings had little time to take cover and as the first wave assaulted them, they could only watch helplessly as around them, their comrades dropped to the ground. The archers had chosen the place for their attack well for this section had the ravine was mercilessly devoid of shelter and there was no where to hide from the deadly assault.
The enemy's first instinct was to scatter and as they dispersed throughout the ravine, Legolas and his archers had little difficult killing many of them. The lord of Eden Ardhon emptied his thoughts of all things as he trained his eye upon one target after another and unleashed his arrows. He paid little attention to their dying after he had shot his arrows, concerned only with rearming and finding another target. The ravine soon became filled with screams of the dying and it was not long before the shock of the attack had worn off and the enemy regained some semblance of composure as Legolas heard Haradrim voices issuing orders through the sounds of carnage.
Legolas fired another arrow, tracing its departure long enough to see that it had struck its intended target before rearming his weapon. However, he paused when he saw that some of the enemy soldiers had failed to seek cover and were attempting to form some sort of line. He observed their progress for a moment, noting the difficulty in attempting the formation under such heavy fire. However, a moment was no more than what was needed to discern what they were doing as he saw them arming their own bows, a mixture of long bow and crossbows in an effort to return fire.
"Take cover!" Legolas ordered, retreating a little from the edge as the first barrage of enemy arrows and bolts flew through the air.
Some did not move fast enough and suddenly the air was filled with cries that came from his own as Legolas saw an arrow approaching and leapt out of the way. Unfortunately, the projectile meant for him found its mark in another and Legolas winced as he saw the body of an elven warrior fall to the ground in death. The return barrage of arrows indicated to Legolas that it was time for them to leave and join the others for the next phase of the battle. Raising his head from the ground where he had dropped to avoid the arrows, he heard Faramir issuing orders to his archers to direct their arrows to their enemy counterparts on the floor of the ravine.
"Fall back!" Legolas cried out as he hurried away from the edge of the ravine, "we join the others!"
Another arrow landed at his feet and Legolas looked over his shoulder to see the bodies of those who had not managed to escape the returning assault by the enemy. He could mourn their loss only briefly because the conflict required their immediate presence with the rest of the army. They had completed their goal of sending the enemy into disarray and now it was the moment to take advantage of the chaos they had wrought. Even as he thought this, Legolas knew that Aragorn and Gimli were converging upon the Confederacy with the rankers while Imrahil led the contingent of cavalry hiding in the caves and the small passages connecting to the main path.
Faramir and the humans kept their position on the other side of the ravine, covering their retreat but Legolas knew that they too would soon have to withdraw to join the battle below. Even now, his acute hearing could make out the signals to desist by the Prince of Ithilien to his archers, the bulk of which were Rangers that had returned from their mission of reconnaissance Faramir seemed to know that he was in Legolas' thoughts for the Steward raised his eyes to the other side of the chasm and made brief contact with the elf. Both offered each other a slight nod of acknowledgement before breaking away to deal with more pressing matters.
Legolas hurried towards the path that would lead them to the ravine below, determined not only to join Aragorn and Gimli in this most important battle of the war but also because his reason for being these past seven months was finally within reach.
Dallanar.
************
Faramir watched Legolas depart and did not have to know the elf's mind to guess his intentions. Faramir supposed that he could not be blamed for his need for vengeance. If anyone had committed such an violation upon Eowyn, Faramir would be similarly inclined to kill what was left of the animal after his wife was finished with it. At the moment, he was more concerned for the welfare of his men. Now that the elves were safely away, he could order them to fall back. No doubt, even now, the archers below were turning their attention to the men of Gondor and the Rangers who had assailed them with arrows to allow the departure of the elven archers.
"Fall back!" Faramir shouted and saw Beregond repeating the order further along the wall.
The Captain of Ithilien was hastening the archers in their retreat; a timely action considering the air was soon filled with arrows from the enemy. Most were able to escape the barrage of arrows because they only needed to outdistance the projectiles. The archers below were shooting blindly, hoping that volume would succeed where accuracy would not. Unfortunately, some of their arrows met the mark and Faramir flinched when he saw a number of his men collapse to the ground after being injured or killed by them. Beregond was helping those who had fallen, to their feet once more so that they could escape.
"Help the others!" Faramir ordered, reminding himself to commend the Captain when this was all over and followed suit himself as he aided a young archer who had been impaled through the thigh not far away from him. For him the battle was over, Faramir thought and helped him up as much as he could.
"Are you able to move at all?" Faramir asked as he dragged the young man forward.
"I will my lord," the archer replied with a strained expression on his face. He was attempting to hide the extent of his pain but Faramir could tell by the control in his voice that it was quite considerable indeed. "I will not fail you."
Faramir smiled faintly as they moved clumsily from the edge of the wall, slowly moving beyond the reach of the arrows, some of which were falling to the earth impotently for the lack of any real targeting when released from the bow. Rivulet of blood were following them across the dirt as Faramir like others in the group of archers, left their present field of battle to join their king on another. They had done what they had set out to do in causing the enemy enough distress to mask the approach of the rankers and the cavalry who would meet the Confederacy in the ravine, face to face.
"You have fought well," Faramir said when the moment allowed for it. "You have failed no one," Faramir told the archer who was not more than twenty by his estimation.
The young man opened his mouth to answer but the words never left his lips because Faramir was suddenly splattered with blood as an arrow cruelly tore through his chest, its point emerging into the space in front of his body, covered in flesh and fluid. The boy's eyes flew open in shock, his voice disappearing into his throat as little more than a strangled gasp before the light diminished in his eyes forever. Faramir held him through all this, his seasoned warrior's sensibilities uncharacteristically stunned as he saw the archer die. Faramir had seen this too many times, had known too many warriors who had died in this way, his own brother as well, but something about this angered him. He did not know why.
"Lord Faramir!" Beregond snapped him out of his shock.
Faramir raised his eyes and saw Beregond standing before him. The Captain of Ithilien had witnessed the scene and felt compelled to retrieve the Prince. Since coming into service of the Steward, Beregond had vowed to himself to always ensure the safety of the Prince, remembering an occasion not too long in the recent past where his indecision had almost cost Faramir his life. That Faramir had forgiven him and brought him to Ithilien as its captain had earned the Prince his undying loyalty and Beregond was determined not to allow any harm come to him.
"He is gone," Beregond declared. "You must keep moving. The king awaits you."
Faramir nodded mutely and released his grip of the young man, making himself a silent oath to return to this place when the battle was done. For reasons Faramir could not explain, he needed to see this young man afforded a proper burial and wondered if it was because the archer had ceased to become just another faceless comrade on the battlefield and had become someone real to the Lord of Ithilien. Faramir believed he would be pondering the question for some time but at that moment, Beregond's reminder was timely, the king did need him and the boy was dead.
Faramir could do nothing for him now.
And in all likelihood, his would not be the only body needing burial today.
*************
The commotion that travelled through the ravine to reach their ears told gave them no doubt that the time to attack was now.
Astride his horse, Aragorn, King of Gondor waited to hear Legolas' signal and knew that it was time. He braced himself in the saddle and glanced at the escort of horses on each side of his flank. The rest of his army was on foot but to lead the charge he had to be seen and there was no better way to accomplish him then in the saddle of his horse, Roheryn. The animal was also adorned with its own armour, made mostly from leathers that protected its head and its eyes. The beast snorted in anticipation of the coming battle as the signal produced by Legolas provoked a more cacophonous noise when the bowmen began their assault.
As soon as the roar of disarray was heard, Aragorn raised Anduril over his head, the blade catching the gleam from the setting sun and appearing bathed in a glow of amber, capturing as well the eye of all the soldiers awaiting the battle to begin.
"CHARGE!" He shouted on the top of his voice and rode forward, his horse breaking quickly into a gallop as it carried him away from the soldiers on foot. It did not matter that he left them behind as he rode forward, confident that they would catch up when the time was necessary. A group of Rohirrim warriors remained at his side and as he emerged, he knew that throughout the ravine, the Rohirrim hiding behind to allow the enemy to pass were also emerging from their hiding places. Led by Imrahil, the Easterling Confederacy was about to find itself enclosed from every side.
Whether or not the enemy could hear them coming through their confusion, Aragorn could not say but supposed that after they recovered from the shock of the initial attack, the sound of pounding hoof beats against the dirt would be difficult to ignore. The war cry of his army pursued him up the ravine as more and more riders joined the main body of cavalry at Aragorn's side, until the expanse of the passage they were travelling became a sea of human and equine bodies, moving in tandem to a common purpose. No doubt on the other side of the ravine, approaching the enemy from the rear, the Prince of Dol Amroth was leading a similar charge.
The walls of the ravine began to blur as they gained momentum along their course, until all other features bled away with only the path ahead remaining with any clarity. The noise was deafening in his ears, a mixture of human voice both in anxiety, anticipation, fear and the gamut of emotions that came when one was about to face another battle. It was primeval and savage and very in keeping with what was about to pass this day. Aragorn had no stomach for any of it. Battle to him was a duty, nothing to be relished and always to be avoided unless of course there was no alternative and in those instances, he would fight like a newly blooded warrior. As king, he could do nothing less.
When the enemy finally came into their line of sight, Aragorn saw that they had recovered enough from their initial shock to mount a hasty defence. He could see warriors falling clumsily into line, their lances and spears pointed towards the approaching cavalry. Their line was weak and not quite formed in places and Aragorn acted quickly to take advantage of this momentarily vulnerability. Raising his hand, he gave the signal to the men under his command to counteract this particular defence, having outlined their strategy based on the enemy's reaction following their ambush.
Upon seeing the signal, the Rohirrim acted swiftly. With expertise borne of one accustomed to a life in the saddle, the warriors of Rohan reached for the bows slung across their backs and took aim at the enemy they were approaching, their bodies so intoned with their mounts that they needed no hands to direct the animals who were thundering ahead just as fearlessly as their masters. Aragorn held back a little as the first barrage of arrows flew past him and assaulted the weak line of defence mounted by the enemy against their eminent arrival. The arrows were deadly in their accuracy and the first wave saw many of the Confederacy succumbing to their onslaught.
The two armies were almost converging and despite the heavy losses being suffered by the Confederacy, it was not nearly enough to ensure that they would not be capable of mounting a formidable defence. With the Confederacy line within reach, Aragorn raised his blade above his head once more to offer a final cry of battle before the battle slipped beyond the reach of orders.
"ELENDILL!" He shouted, allowing the name of the ancient king to inspire his men and remind them all for what they fought.
The assault of arrows ceased upon their arrival at the Confederacy line and Aragorn gripped Roheryn's reins tight as the steed bounded past the sharp points of lances and spear, landing beyond the perilous weapons into the thick of the enemy's midst. The Rohirrim riders, more than accustomed to all manner of attacks against cavalry, followed suit in good stead. There were some who were not so lucky and the screams of those who did not pass the deadly phalanx tore through his ears in the agony of their dying. Unfortunately, Aragorn had little time to see how many had been impaled upon the enemy's lances and spears for he was soon fighting to stay alive.
Swarming around his horse and the other riders like a plague of locusts, the enemy numbers were indeed as numerous as they had been led to believe. While the absence of the mumakils as well as being taken by surprise had given the Reunified kingdom and its allies a decided advantage, there was no doubting that this would be a bloody fight. Swinging his blade wildly beneath him, Aragorn drove away the warriors attempting to unseat him from Roheryn's back. He could tell by the intensity of their attacks that they knew who he was and were focusing all their efforts in killing the leader of the opponents. Fortunately, Aragorn, who had fought more battles than most men alive in this day and age, had little difficult stemming the tide of assailants.
He swung his blade through the lances and pikes stabbing at him from various sources. Roheryn was almost as seasoned as he in battle and the horse knew how to protect its master while at the same time ensuring none of those killing blows harmed it in turn. Aragorn saw the point of an Easterling pike coming towards the horse and immediately reached for his dagger and hurled the weapon forward without giving it a second's thought. The blade impaled itself between the eyes of the enemy, halting the Easterling's advance dead in his tracks. His body disappeared quickly amongst the fighting and Aragorn turned away because the corner of his eye caught the gleam of another weapon. He swung around and tore the weapon from the enemy in a ruthless upper cut. The schmitar sailed in the air, torn out of the enemy's hand. Aragorn wasted no time killing him, aware that the Haradrim would do the same if their positions were exchanged.
The rest of the cavalry were engaged in similar actions, cutting down the enemy from their saddles. Aragorn looked above the fighting, trying to catch sight of Imrahil and was disappointed when he could not. The Prince of Dol Amroth was undoubtedly keeping the enemy locked between them, with no way to escape. Inwardly, Aragorn made a silent plea to the Valar to ensure the older man's safety. The fighting around him was fierce and had been raging at a fevered pitch since the armies had met but now a sudden silence had gripped them all, a pause that was in reality barely second in length but felt as if time was making its crossing over an eternity.
The silence lasted briefly as the rankers led by Gimli on foot appeared within sight. The soldiers of Gondor, Rohan and the Eldar flowed into the ravine like a river whose course had suddenly been set anew. The tide of bodies swept forward and the silence of discovery had evaporated quickly, bringing with it a ground swell of sound, like waves roaring against the shore. The Confederacy turned their attention away from the cavalry, suddenly eing presented with a much greater danger. Attempting to defend themselves but there was no line to hold, not after the archers and then the riders had placed them in such disarray.
Aragorn searched the battlefield for Dallanar, wondering where the Haradrim king was or for that matter, any of the leaders of the enemy. The forces of the Confederacy were reeling from the surgical strikes against them and the lack of direction was causing what little strategy there had been in their actions to be abandoned quickly. While this proved advantageous to the western armies, Aragorn had never thought the enemy would be so unprepared or poorly led that the ambush of the western army could turn into nothing less than the complete slaughter of the Easterling Confederacy.
After all they had endured to be find themselves in this particular place and time, Aragorn had never believed victory would come to them like this.
************
Legolas and the archers still able to fight joined the battle shortly after the two armies had completely hurled themselves at each other in a roar of noise that made the very earth quake from its violence. He could have been forgiven for thinking that it was about to rain since the noise easily rivalled the rumble of thunder preceding a great storm. However, there were only stars in the skies above, a contrasting beauty against the savage bloodshed that was taking place on the land.
As they approached the thick of the battle, Legolas could see nothing of Aragorn or Gimli and that immediately gave him reason for caution. While logic told him that they were more than capable of fending for themselves. Not having them inside during battle made the elf anxious. After all, they had fought at each other's side in one form or another since they had become comrades during the quest of the Ring. For one as long lived as he, Legolas was somewhat reluctant to admit that he had become accustomed to their presence on the battle field and felt somewhat unsettled that he could not see them in plain view.
It mattered little he told himself, brushing off his uneasiness as he and his elven comrades threw themselves into the fray. There were so many bodies locked in life and death struggles that it was difficult to move. Swords swung, spikes stabbed, steel meeting steel could be heard against the gruesome sound of flesh tearing under the blade and the screams following it. He saw faces covered in blood, the dead piling up around their feet and knew that no one would leave the field of battle unsoiled or unscathed from what they had wrought today.
This is what he had wanted was it not? Legolas asked as he swung his blade at an advancing Easterling warrior and cut the man in half by splitting his belly open. The enemy cried out in pain as blood splattered, some of it smearing Legolas across the chest. The elf wiped the gore from his chin and continued onward, barely wasting a second thought on an opponent who as far as he was concerned was already dead, before moving on to another.
This was the end that he had desired, ever since he had convinced his father and Lord Celeborn that it was vital for them to take up the cause of battle against the Easterlings and the Southrons following the destruction at Eden Ardhon. It was for their safety, if they wished to remain in Middle Earth a little longer. However, in his heart he knew that his reason for bringing the elves into this conflict had little to do with protection and more to quench the burning desire for vengeance that had paralysed his thoughts since learning what had taken place in his realm.
He thought seeing this would make everything he had endured since entering Haradwraith worth the effort. He knew what he had become, he was not deaf to the words of his friends, to their altered perception of him, he even knew that on some level that Melia was right in trying to force him away from the battle. However, now that the moment was upon him, now that they were on the eve of the most decisive victory of the Haradrim campaign, Legolas found his desire for vengeance had dulled in the face of all the blood spilled. It was hard to think of vengeance when the faces on the ground, bleeding into the dirt, belonging to the enemy and to his comrades, did not seem so different from one another.
His ruminations were interrupted by the appearance of a Haradrim warrior before him. The soldier clad in armour that was obviously too big and ornate for him, had fallen to the ground at Legolas' feet. The elf's first instinct was to strike but the face that looked up at him, smeared in blood and dirt was wide eyed with fear. Legolas estimated that the boy was no more than sixteen if that. His eyes were brimming with tears and the stench of him told Legolas that it was not so long ago that the boy had retched over himself.
It would be so easy to kill him, to end his life now before he became an adult who had no doubt been taught to hate the enemies of Sauron since the day of his birth. However, too many times already had Legolas used that particular argument to kill and it was no longer able to salve his conscience. He knew that in desperation the Haradrim had been forced to recruit vigorously to fill their ranks. However, he had no idea that they were snatching children off the street to fight the seasoned and battle hardened warriors of the west. Legolas had already killed one child in this war. He was not about to kill another.
"Go," he told the boy while eyeing him cautiously, remembering what had happened to Eomer.
The boy's expression showed his shock but there was little time to reach when suddenly, Legolas heard a new voice shouting at him. His memory of his encounter with the Haradrim king at Ithilien was branded into his mind and so there was no doubt who had spoken.
Dallanar glared at Legolas, a mixture of fear and rage on his face and hissed menacingly.
"Get away from my son!"
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