CHAPTER VII
SACRIFICES- PART II
"My lord!" yelled a voice into my ear. "The battle has begun!" I immediately jumped up and reached for my sword, but I saw that it was just Dínivas (or Silent Autumn), one of my Elf soldiers, and relaxed.
"What have I missed?" I asked him.
"They broke through the lines of the Thirty-fifth regiment", Dínivas told me. "The force was too big."
"How big?" I asked him.
"Unknown", he told me. "It's a mix of Orcs, Haradrim, and several other allegiances." Once he said Haradrim, my heart dropped. I feared that Aralokë had his blood drained and Saleme would unleash her 'dark and terrible weapon', but I knew I couldn't fear for long. I then motioned to Dínivas to form a line. Soon all my soldiers, Elf, Woodman, and Beoring alike, were in a block-like formation, and I was at the front of it. I then drew my sword and pointed it towards the crowd.
"This night may have many meanings to you," I told the crowd. "To some it will be the night they join the Halls of Mandos. To others it will be the night they will remember in infamy as Menegroth and all of Wilderland was burnt to a crisp and our people will no more. But I pray and pray to the Valar that most will remember this night as the union of our three peoples fought as one and repressed the evil of Necromancer and his misguided allies. I beg you to do your best to make my prayers become a reality. Fight with me, and you will have a reward greater than gold and silver! Teith negil! Lin an I daciles!" All my soldiers then unsheathed their swords and raised them up in the air as they cheered. I then followed suit and pointed my sword northward. "MARCH WITH ME!" I then ran as fast as I could possibly run towards the direction Dínivas told me, and the sound of several footsteps told me that they were following. We marched for several minutes, expecting the enemy to leap out of the bushes any minute. Suddenly, a large, flaming trebuchet flew out of the sky and was flying towards us.
"WATCH OUT!" I yelled. Many soldiers ran out of the way, but the trebuchet smashed on the ground and the whole forest lit up with red flame. I turned around to see that everyone was okay, but I dropped my mouth in astonishment at the sight I saw- a large, wooden dragon on wheels was being rolled across the forest, with several Orcs chopping brush away. The dragon's wing then flung forward, and saw that they launched two more trebuchets.
"Charge!" I shouted. The men ran like fire towards the host of orcs at my command, and they were met with a slur of arrows. The woodmen, which preferred long-ranged combat to close-up combat, met the Orc's challenge with their own volley of their primitive arrows. The Beorings, however, changed themselves into various animals before charging at the enemy. Before I knew it, all the normal-looking men had turned into Eagles, dragons, bears, lions, and anything else you could find in a bestiary. The Orcs just swung their axes dully at the beasts, which were stronger than they were in their new form.
I, not being as fast as an enraged animal, ran as fast as mortally possible towards the host of Orcs. Once they were so close to me that only a thing ray of sunlight passed through us, I lifted my sword up and brought it down with one quick stroke, slicing the Orc across its stomach. I then brought the sword back up and dodged another Orc blow and kicked the Orc away while I spun around to slice another Orc.
"GET DOWN!" yelled a voice behind me. A strong force pulled me the ground and an intense wave of heat followed. The weight was then off my body and saw a large bear, which was obviously Beorn.
"What happened?" I asked. "You almost got hit with a trebuchet", he told me.
"What could they possibly be doing with those things", I told Beorn. I turned around to grab my sword and saw that the forest was on fire. "NO! Not the forest! It can't! It must be stopped!" I ran towards the flames but Beorn pulled me back.
"We cannot tame the fire", Beorn told me. "We do not have enough water".
"We will get some then!" I yelled.
"It would make better use to destroy the Trebuchet launcher than to whine about the fire", Beorn told me. I looked across the field, and saw that the defense was doing well. However, there were still several Orcs waiting for battle, and if we continued to fight like this we would tire out and Menegroth would fall to ruin.
"RETREAT!" I yelled. Beorn stared at me with wide eyes, for he was abashed at my comment.
"SIR!" exclaimed Beorn. "I said we should destroy the trebuchet launcher!"
"Exactly!" I exclaimed. I ran as fast as I could away from the Orcs, making it seem like we were retreating back to Menegroth, when instead we were going to the Aelino I Tinuviel (Pool of the Nightingale), the hiding spot I would go when I played soldier with my friends when I was a young Elf. My soldiers poured into the circle of trees, where a nice, crisp pool lay in the middle.
"About eight thousand of you marched with me to defeat our host", I told them. "Only six thousand are here".
"That seems like a reasonable number", said Mithöre, one of my soldiers. "Why have we retreated?"
"We have not retreated", I told him.
"Then what do you call this!" exclaimed Dínivas. "Lollygagging?"
"I call it 'discussing a battle plan'", I told the young Elf.
"Then where is the battle plan!" exclaimed Mithöre.
"Patience is a virtue", exclaimed Beorn.
"Thank you, master Beorn", I replied. "It seems like the Orc's greatest weapon is their trebuchet launcher, which has sent some of our forest to flames. A lot of are tress have been burnt down, and more are burning. We need to destroy that machine. I have devised a plan where we are to attack them from the sides with a sneak attack- remember, they still think we have retreated. Then, we will march forward to Menegroth..."
"Why there?" asked Mithöre. "It will bring the enemy closer to home!"
"Yes!" I exclaimed. "I will send a scout- how about you, Eagamon- to travel to Menegroth to warn them."
"Okay", said Eagamon, a Beoring. He suddenly transformed into his preferred shape (the shape of an eagle) and began to fly towards Menegroth, flying low in order to avoid Orc arrows.
"Now", I said. "We will catch up with the Orcs."
"How can we?" asked Dínivas. "They are fifteen minutes ahead of us!"
"We run", I said with a smile. I then lifted my sword (Mororë, which means Dark Heart in Westron) and proceeded northward. My whole army then followed behind me, and the Beorings changed themselves into their preferred shape. We marched through the thick trees and the muddy ponds for a dozen minutes when I came to a sudden halt to the sound of footsteps that sounded different from our own. I lifted my arm up to signal my army to halt, which they did. We all drew our swords, for we saw several Orcs and Haradrim walking uphill. I heard several grinding wheels and looked up and saw the trebuchet launcher.
"NOW!" I yelled. With a yell all my men ran up the hill as fast as I could (well, the Beorings who were dragons flew up the hill) and began to swing our swords at the Orcs. With great fury I flung my sword around and felled several Orcs. With our surprise attack we were knocking the Orcs like flies, pushing them out of the way to our destination- the Trebuchet launcher.
"HEY!" yelled a voice behind me. After I sliced an Orc in half with Mororë, I saw Mithöre wave at me. "WATCH THIS!" Suddenly, the Beoring Drakko, whose specialty was transforming into a dragon, picked up Mithöre with his talons and dropped him onto the trebuchet launcher. Once he landed on the dragon shaped device, he jumped off and began to defend himself from it. I cheered him on as I saw him slay many an orc, but my heart dropped when I saw him raise his sword to destroy an orc with a torch in his hand.
"NO!" I yelled. "DON'T KILL THAT ONE!" But it was too late- when the Orc was stabbed the torch flew through the air and landed in a bucket of fuel, and suddenly the whole forest lit up. I tried to get up after the flash, but my soul failed me- I flopped to the ground and awaited in white- knuckled silence.
Meanwhile, during the whole fight, Saleme was taking a bath. She needed to be there when Aralokë was drained of his blood. She would need to say her special chant to make the dark spirits of Middle-Earth leave the void and wreck havoc on the Elves, causing her to battle. Besides, it was an excuse to take a bath. She loved it when the cool, crisp water soaked parts of her body that weren't normally exposed in public...
"Mistress Saleme", said a voice behind her. She turned around, not bothering to cover her body, and saw one of the Haradrim soldiers standing right in front of her bathtub.
"Can't you figure out that I'm naked right now", said Saleme.
"Sorry Mistress", said the soldier, not bothering to look away. "The blood of the Elf has been drained."
"Excellent", said Saleme while soaking her hair in the water.
"There's also a guest waiting you outside", said the soldier.
"Who is it?" asked Saleme. "Earendil the Mariner?"
"No", said the Soldier. "It's Bungo Harfoot, son of Bingo Harfoot."
"In that case", said Saleme, "You can let him in." The soldier then left and Saleme continued to bathe. She didn't care that people were staring at her exposed body. She liked to show off that she had a beautiful body worthy of girl's jealousy and men's admiration. Then, the Hobbit walked in and smiled.
"What are you smiling about?" asked Saleme.
"Nothing", said Bungo. "Tell me, what are you going to do with me now that you've sucked the information out of me?"
"I will employ you in my services", Saleme.
"What will I do?"
"You can join the army or be a member of intelligence or something of the sort."
"How about I enhance your bathing experience?"
"You're going to do what?" before she could say anything else, Bungo unsheathed a dagger and leaped in the bath. The water turned from blue to red as Bungo stabbed her, and her beautiful body turned into a mangled corpse. Bungo then jumped out of the bath and proceeded towards the room where the blood was stored. Once he disposed of the blood, he would make his way back to Menegroth, where he would serve as a spy for the Elves. Revenge could just be so sweet.