An Instrument of Fate

by Lord Valentai

An account of the Last Alliance at the end of the second age. Please read and review. New chapter added 21st August.

10. Chapter 7

Thanks to Jessie Rose for the kind review. I am uploading this chapter because of this review, I maintain this is not canonical and was never intended to be. It is my version of the story, it is not so dreadfully different; at least it does not feature characters from some other book or movie! Anyway, on with the long show.

Chapter 7 – Holding the Line Autumn SA3429

"So how are you this day your grace?" Duke Coridius sighed; only one person could make a respectful question in to a sardonic comment.

"I am well Armarius. Tell me, what news from the prince?"

The grey haired engineer smiled and shook the duke's hand and walked beside him. They were walking to the gate of the western walls of the city of Osgiliath. The sentries saluted them as they passed and they retuned the salutes as they walked out into the morning sunlight. The road from the walls led steeply down into a valley with a small creek. The road rose swiftly to a green hill a mile away on which was a large amount of pine trees and rugged limestone outcrops. It had rained the night before and the mist hung over the valley. Before them were the camps of the three Arnorian divisions in this area. To the left of the road was the eighth, 'the fighting eighth' for their stubborn defiance in battle. To the right was the eleventh, 'the oak leaves', made of men from the mountains of southern Arthedain. Their banner which bore the star of Elendil also bore the green form of an oak leaf. Further to the right was the fourth and along the river to north and south were the sixth and the fourteenth. 'The old glory division' and 'the victorious fourteenth', both prime divisions of Arnorian infantry. The duke and the engineer looked down into the valley and a smiled creased the duke's face.

"I heard from the gallant prince that he wants a council of war at noon today," the engineer said in his accented voice.

"Where is the enemy?" Coridius asked.

"All around us," Armarius said dryly. "The main body is just leaving the black pass. My guess is that the prince will want to bring them to battle before they can reach us here. If they lock us in then we will have little chance to counter attack. My guess is that we will move tonight."

"Where are Provinde and Daguerre?" Coridius asked and the engineer was serious for once.

"They are coming. Two or three weeks and they will be here. The prince will not wait though, he cannot. If he does then we will lose a critical chance."

"And how do you know so much? Chatting with the enemy again?" Coridius asked.

"I am surprised you asked. If I am the only one who thinks around here then I will be forced to add sense to this crowd of fools. I suppose, you have Daguerre in charge of an army, after that, your ignorance young duke is not so bad." Coridius sighed and the engineer slapped him on the back.

"You should have known different than to try to match swords with me so to speak."

"So I should Armarius." The duke said but was looking up the slope where five riders had appeared. They were dressed in green but from this distance he could not make out any more about them. The duke turned to the engineer who shrugged.

"Could be anyone. So where is Malimar?"

Coridius was not listening and walked down the hill. Armarius muttered something and followed him down the path. Walking up through the mist, the duke came at last to the guard post. The men looked relieves as he came forward. A small crowd had gathered and various whispers had started. Coridius walked forward and pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He stopped as he saw the five riders.

They were elves, green and brown clad elves with bows on their backs and long swords at their side. A lieutenant of the guard came forward and saluted Coridius.

"I am glad you are here lord duke, they just arrived and we cannot understand them and presumably the other way around."

"I will deal with this lieutenant, have their horses looked after."

"Of course lord duke." The man said and walked away.

The elves were of average hight and all had long black hair with travel stained cloaks and tired horses. One was an elf lady with black hair and a pleasant face that was one of the prettiest most of the men around had ever seen. Their leader nodded at him, obviously expecting another human who did not speak Sindarin.

"Good morning my friends." The duke said in very good Sindarin. They smiled, a little relieved. "I am Duke Coridius of Arthedain, commander of the Arnorian Second Corps. What may I do for you?"

"We are glad we have found you lord duke. I am Loquai and we have come to aid you in the fight."

Coridius was surprised by the announcement. "I appreciate your help but I ask why." He said. Armarius came up beside him and offered a greeting. He turned to the soldiers who were looking at their commander talking the strange language like a native.

"All right you rogues. Shows over, back to work. If you do not go about your business I will have you all flogged." He said happily and the men dispersed. The other elves were covering their amusement. They might not understand the language but there was something about Armarius that ensured you did not need to.

"We are here of our own will and not under the orders of our lords. We rode here from our homes a month ago and here we are."

"Are you folk of Eregion or are you sylvan?"

The elf muttered something, then he spoke up. "We are green elves of Eregion. We sought the permission of High Captain Vallarië to come here and he let us go."

"Well I am glad to have you with us. You came in time, the enemy is just thirty miles away and we may soon march out upon them."

"Good." The elf said grimly. He looked at the duke's face. "We lost kin in the last war and have spent the time since hunting them in Eregion. Now we came to pay amends for their deaths."

Coridius had never seen elves so vengeful but he nodded and bowed slightly. "You are most welcome my friends. I will put you with my guard. I fight in the front lines but you may go where you choose. The prince, Armarius here and I speak your language but precious few else."

"We thank you for your hospitality. We sought you out because you are an elf-friend of Lord Elrond and the High King. We will care for ourselves and the horses. We will be in the forests on the hill slope."

"We shall call upon you when the battle comes."

The elves bowed and remounted their horses and rode up to the crest. Coridius turned to the engineer who shrugged.

"Don't ask me where they came from."

"Maybe it was a portent." Coridius said.

Armarius laughed. "You are like Artirimar sometimes. Always looking through the books for the situation."

"Is that a bad thing?" Coridius asked.

"Of course it is not a bad thing. I like to think of myself as a scholar of sorts. The way you said that made you sound just like him."

The two reached the gate again. The grey haired man chuckled. "Now we have fifty five thousand and five troops."

"Just don't call them 'men'. They do not like it."

"I can not think why." The quartermaster said theatrically.

As the two walked back through the courtyard of the west, heading towards the food markets, there was a clatter of hooves behind. The two men turned to see a familiar face on a horse with a couple of cavalrymen as escorts. The man dismounted. From a cursory glance he seemed like just another man or merchant. This suited the man's purpose and as he dropped to the cobbled ground he smiled at the two men.

"Count Halas Artirimar, we were just talking about you." The man smiled from the corner of mouth.

"I have no doubt you were Armarius." He turned to Coridius. "You must be the man who has come to rescue us. Duke Coridius am I right?" He asked and bowed slightly.

Coridius saw a pure blooded Gondorian of average height, brown eyes and short black hair which seemed to be untidily pushed back from his face. He carried a short sword by his side and wore very plain clothing. His simple cloak and underclothes did not show him up in any way as a noble. Coridius had heard much about this man, the fourth highest ranked man in the Gondorian army aside from the princes. He was unlike Provinde or Levan in that he was not a close combat fighter in any way. He was an inspiring leader and a brave man but he was not especially skilled with the blade. He was the scholar and inventor of the army, inventing the now standard Gondorian bow which raised it's accurate range to close of what a high elven arrow could be fired. The man had written a dozen books on war and was considered something of a revolutionary thinker as far as the evolution of cavalry tactics was concerned. He had the rulership of south western Gondor up to the Pass of Calenardhon. His city was named after him, Artimas, after he turned it from a swampy wasteland to a thriving city and farmland. For that he had been made a count. All of this was hidden behind a simple face which showed honesty and courage.

"I am he. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. So how was your ride?"

"Good enough. Armarius knows I hate horses. My army is marching with Daguerre's and should be here in a few weeks."

"Or maybe not considering their leader." Armarius said darkly and Artirimar laughed.

"I see you are in good form today. The Archduke told me to pass on his compliments and his hope he will see you soon." The count smiled; there was not a man who did not enjoy watching the old engineer duelling with his friend of decades.

"Then send a reply message saying I would rather have my leg bitten off by a rabid wolf than experience that particular joy."

"Anything you say Armarius." The count said and Armarius waved his hand airily.

"No, I'll do it. I cannot trust you to relay my sentiments properly. So how are you, you book reading commoner?" He asked happily.

"As good as you by the looks of it you shoveller." He replied and the engineer snarled.

"I knew it. Daguerre is being an influence on you. He will corrupt us more surely than the plague." This was said so loudly that people turned to watch the engineer walking down the road.

Artirimar laughed and looked to Coridius. "Imagine the two of them together."

"I have a good imagination my friend." The duke said grimly.

"So what is the prince like? Is he well?" Artirimar asked.

"He is indeed. You are just in time. We meet at noon to discuss possible offensive actions."

"I see, then I did get here at a good time. I rode the poor horse to death almost to get here on time."

"So what is your role here?" Coridius asked.

"I am commander of the temporary reserve corps. That is the ninth and tenth divisions. The reserves basically."

"I have some news of interest for you Artirimar. We received five volunteers just before you arrived." Armarius said and the count looked at him as though he wanted him to continue. Finally he sighed as they reached the courtyard of the palace.

"Well? Who are they?" The count asked.

"Five green elves of Eregion." Coridius said, catching the man by surprise. Artirimar nodded.

"That is interesting; I would like to meet them." He said eagerly. He was known as being the only man in Gondor with a library of ancient elven books whose presence in his room was never fully explained. Nobody wanted to ask in case they got an answer.

"Not now though. Curb you enthusiasm young count. We have duty to attend. Although, one of them was a fair maiden that made the sun itself seem dim."

The count tried to look impassive but only looked confused. Coridius slapped him on the back.

"The engineer is telling untruths again my friend. I saw no such thing. He is trying to get you so he is."

"There was indeed. If you are so unobservant than that is not my problem young duke."

"I am married Armarius. I have no desire to chase women." Coridius said stiffly.

Armarius laughed at the younger man's face which was now trying to contain a smile.

He nodded to the guards on duty and walked into the palace of the city of Osgiliath. Inside they headed to the far side of the building and up a set of stone stairs into smaller area of the palace. It was the part that did not contain the great hall and had several rooms of varying sizes. Coridius led the way to a particular door and opened it. The room was a narrow but long room with a glass window facing north. The rest of the room was a gloomy grey stone like the rest of the buildings in the city and held only a long pine wood table and a couple of small round tables at either end. The three men sat just as the hourglass by the wall ran out. The door opened, scant seconds later and the Prince walked in. He seemed surprised to see them already but smiled a greeting.

"Good morning to you all. Artirimar, I see you have come in time to join us. Good, we have much to talk about today."

"I have good news lord prince. I received five volunteers this morning."

The prince looked at the duke strangely.

"I had five elves come and volunteer themselves to me. Green elves from Eregion."

"What are they doing here?" The prince asked.

"They are here with the permission of High Captain Vallarië or so they say. I suppose they just wanted to fight."

"When you said you had five volunteers I was waiting for you to say thousand at the end." The prince laughed.

"Not just yet lord prince. They may come eventually."

"I hope so. They stay with you, put them wherever you want. They will probably only trust you, so see to it."

"Of course lord prince."

There was a knock on the door which, when opened revealed the moustached face of the Baron Levan. Beside him was a man of similar size and age but bearing the bars of divisional commander on his shoulder. The man had grey hair and green eyes and carried himself with a great pride. Anárion looked up and smiled.

"Come in gentlemen. Come in and discuss the situation. I appreciate your promptness."

"It is no problem. If there is a blow to be struck against the enemy then I will be in the front lines." Levan said and sat with the new man beside him. Anárion stood and looked over the table to Coridius.

"Duke Coridius, there is a man here you have not met. He is Captain Eldoran and he is my highest ranking divisional commander. "The man nodded at the words and sat back. "Now my friends, we have a difficult decision to make, to attack or defend. There are arguments for both and they must be both considered. Baron Levan, will you put forward your thoughts?"

"My pleasure lord prince. I would say, with the news the main enemy army is leaving the pass of Minas Ithil that we should go now. The enemy has light forces opposing us in the siege lines. If we push through then we can choose our ground and force the opponent to come to us. On the open field, we can defeat them far easier than if we had to try to beak the lines."

"Thank you Levan. Any responses?" Anárion asked. To the surprise of all Coridius nodded in agreement.

"I agree with the baron. If we wait until we have a numerical superiority then we risk being trapped here. The length of our siege lines are a disadvantage because we can only attack piecemeal. If we break through now, then we shall have the advantage." Levan looked faintly surprised by the words but added further words to the argument.

"You see lord prince; a decisive victory will give Isildur time to broker an alliance with Arnor and possibly others." Levan said.

Armarius spoke next. "While I think this is the best idea, we must consider the alternatives. If we fail to break the enemy or even, if we are defeated, the city will be vulnerable. I am not discouraging, just inviting solutions."

"It needs to be quick then." Coridius said. "We must break through and have a suitable ground for fighting planned and accounted for."

"What troops do we have available?" Artirimar asked and Anárion answered.

"We have five divisions of Arnorians and seven of Gondorians. We will have to use two of the better divisions to screen our march and guard the city. That leaves us with about forty eight thousand men."

"The enemy will have seventy thousand." Armarius warned.

"Maybe. I think that a defensive battle with a view to a decisive counter attack is the best move." Levan said.

"Do we have any places suitable for such a defence?" Coridius asked. Armarius nodded and went to a map he had drawn that had been hung on the wall of the chamber. It was a map of the area between Osgiliath and the shadow mountains. The land was broken and dotted with forests, rocks and streams. The occasional lake also was present. It was not country for the massed armies of the enemy or of the alliance army of which these men knew nothing yet. Armarius pointed to a long and steep hill that covered the road between Minas Ithil and Osgiliath.

"Here is the place to fight gentlemen." The engineer said and the others leaned forward to look at the map. "The main road between the two cities runs past here. Therefore, the enemy cannot bring cavalry, supplies or siege equipment anywhere but on that road. The land around is too broken for such movements and to the north of this hill is the Cantari Gorge which as we know is almost impassable to even the lightest infantry. This hill is the key; it is long, about a mile and a half long and three hundred yards deep. It rises steeply up from the road but had a gentle reverse slope. An army could hide just thirty yards from the road, unseen and fall upon the enemy. That will not help us much though; it is the forward slope and this second rise which will hold them. This second slope here I the key, it is a second rise on top of the original hill and it is even steeper." The others nodded. Not even his most ardent enemy could doubt the engineer's skill or dedication.

"What sort of elevation are we talking Armarius?" Artirimar asked.

"The main his is about ten yards higher than the road while the second promontory is about fifteen to twenty yards above the road level."

"How far away is it?"

"Along the road it is seven miles. The position is east south east of here. Taking the cross country route however, we can have troops there in an hour. March through the Truie forest and over this creek and then to the rear of the position." Armarius said.

"I like it. This is how it will work." Anárion said in a more commanding tone. The others wondered how the prince would cope with command but, having managed the kingdom and the defences so far they knew he would not fail his country. "We feint to the north of the enemy position and then hit hard and fast with the Arnorians to the south east. We attack at dusk and we use the Gondorian infantry to roll back the enemy while the Arnorians go to the hill. The cavalry ride the road and the infantry go across country. That will give us twenty thousand troops there. Enough to hold on until the rest of the army can arrive. Duke Coridius, as is right and proper will have four of his divisions and his extra cavalry. The eighth must be taken from you to hold the city." Coridius nodded.

"My loss is your gain lord prince." He said.

"Good. Baron Levan, you will have elements of four Gondorian divisions, the sixth, seventh, eleventh and twelfth. Total of about eighteen thousand men. You will follow the morning after the city is secure. I will also have to relieve you of a division Baron Levan, the fifth."

"I am sorry to lose the eagles but they will comply." Levan said.

"It is bad that I must take such good troops but we need them. Artirimar, you have the ninth and tenth in the reserve. You will be there at midday. Gentlemen, this is the way it will work, I want the men roused to attack tonight. Do it quiet though." He said. Coridius reflected how commanding the prince could be. He could be commanding while being friendly as well, a rare talent. Valentai could do that but he had been more business like, brisk and authoritative. The duke reflected that the two would do well fighting side by side.

"I have one last thing to add. I have twenty artillery pieces ready. Dart and stone throwers but very effective against the massed foe." Armarius said.

"Good. I shall have the guard and artillery attached to Artirimar's troops." The prince said. "The cavalry shall be grouped under Captain Malimar's command. If you do not mind Duke Coridius?"

"Not at all lord duke. He will like it I am sure."

"Then to battle my friends. We have much to do before dusk tonight." He looked to Eldoran. "Captain Eldoran is in command of the two detached divisions. He will not let us down." Anárion said and stood.

The five other men also stood and after saluting they left the room. Levan walked by the duke's side as he strode down the halls.

"Thank you for taking my point of view."

"I took it because it was the right thing to do." Levan smiled at the words.

"I know you do not like me Coridius but at least you can override that to do the right thing." Coridius made no comment and the moustached man walked away.

Armarius came up beside him. "I like to think of myself as a good judge of character but I think I may have misjudged him." Coridius stared at him questioningly. "He wears the mask of arrogance and today he has shown another person underneath. He might still be a fool though" Armarius said and Coridius smiled.

"Only time will tell. I have to meet my commanders, want to come?"

"No, I have to make sure my scum are not pilfering the storerooms. See you at dawn tomorrow my friend."

"To victory."

"To victory and glory." The grey haired man said ironically and walked off across the river.

The sun set behind Duke Coridius as he waited in the front rank of his men. He would lead his old division, the fourth in the breakout attempt. It was an hour and a half before dusk and the attack must begin soon. Before him, he could see the way to go, over the trench wall and straight forward. He had men coming behind with flat, long planks to bridge the ditches the enemy had dug. Then it would be up the embankment to drive the enemy back even further. When a gap had been punched, he would lead his men to the east west road while his second in command would link up with two Gondorian divisions to the south. By the new day, he hoped to be marching through to arrive at dawn. Coridius walked over to his second in command, Captain Detari of the fourth division. He crouched beside the man. In the shadowy light coming from the setting sun, the man was merely a shape. He knelt beside him. The man had black hair and green eyes.

"How is it captain?"

"We are fine lord duke. We await only your order."

There was a sudden clash of steel and the twang of bows to the north, to the feint being fought by Eldoran. The shots, deliberately loud were a signal to the Duke of Arthedain but he waited for a signal. There was an explosion of whispering behind him and he turned to angrily quiet the men when he saw a messenger of the prince. The man bowed and knelt down.

"Compliments of the prince, you may begin when you feel you are ready. That was all lord duke."

"Tell him I shall start imminently." He said and the man scurried away.

Coridius turned to Detari. He clapped the man's shoulder. "I will see you in the new day."

"Look after yourself. You sure you want to lead?"

"What sort of man would I be if I did not lead from the front?"

Coridius leapt down and held his son to the dying sunlight. He disliked dusk assaults, preferring dawn as it could only get lighter but the urgency had forced them to this accommodation. His men scrambled down as silently as possible. No shields or helmets and only light armour for each man. Coridius held his sword up and swung it in a circle above his head. His men followed him and the engineers with their wood and ladders and pioneer axes ran in front. The enemy could be seen in the firelight from their second line of trenches. The first line was silhouetted by the fire light and as they ran across the hundred yards of open ground to the ditch. There was a shout of warning from above and a rushing of feet to the ramparts. Coridius cursed the enemy and realised his men could make any noise they wanted now. He raised his sword and cried to his men.

"For Arnor and for the king! Cheer, let them know you are coming for them!" He shouted and his men let out a great cry and were answered with a hail of arrows. Men fell all about the duke and one shot even grazed his shoulder to hit a man behind. He shouted them on and his voice carried over the cheers that had suddenly erupted to north and south from other assaults.

"Come on boys, double quick!" He shouted and his men cheered and rushed forward. The ditch loomed and for a few second they had no choice to stop while the engineers bridged it. The enemy fired more and more shots and more men fell. Coridius snarled and ran back and then charged and leapt over the obstacle. He landed on the other side and waved his men on as arrows whistled about him. There was a cheer as men joined him across the temporary bridges or jumped over. Several men did not make it and fell to the wooden stakes below. Coridius pointed his sword forward so it flamed in the last light of the day as he ran forward. Men behind him were hit but he rushed on. The embankment approached and he saw the leering faces and the crude pole-arms reaching for him and he bellowed a warcry in Sindarin and charged forward. A halberd chopped at him but he ducked under the diagonal slash and kicked an orc in the face. He hacked down with his sword but the enemy pressed him back. He snarled as he drove them back with his sword and stabbed a foul creature in the throat. He kicked the blade free and did not even grunt when a spear stabbed him in the chest. He had disregarded orders and had worn his plate armour and only that saved his life and deflected the thrust. His cloak was torn by the cut but he had the reach now and hacked the orc down. His men were storming the ramparts around him and he bellowed a warcry and attack again and again with his sword. He seized a crude shield from the ground and used it to block some of the blows aimed at him. An orc came at him and he slammed the shield into it's face and then dropped in to hack down with his sword with both hands. All around him, his men were driving the enemy back in confusion and some had even driven on with great fury to the second line. Duke Coridius grunted as a sword slashed his arm and then spat as he hacked the creature down. Coridius swarmed up the second embankment and helped his men there. The enemy was fighting on here, while some tried to retreat but a squadron of light cavalry came down upon the fugitives and killed them with great skill. The orcs were fighting on so the duke seized a burning piece of wood and slammed it down into the face of their chieftain. The orcs staggered back before the steel of Arnor and soon they were in full retreat.

Coridius lit the signal which meant he had been victorious and sighed as he saw the enemy being overwhelmed by his and other troops. The next divisions of Arnorians were reaching the fight and soon the enemy was in total confusion. The sun had finally set and darkness fell over the battlefield. Coridius bandaged the wounds he had and walked back along his men. He had to have them organised to move soon.

He heard a footfall behind him and turned to see Captain Detari, happy but tired as he saluted.

"Congratulations lord duke. The enemy are gone, dead or run and we can move on."

"Send a message to the prince and then to Malimar telling him we can proceed." The man nodded and turned away but the duke called him back. "Captain, I want men with torches to mark the way we must go, get the elves to help of you can find them. And what were our losses?"

"A hundred, maybe more."

"Good. That is good. Go on captain, I will get your men ready."

Captain Malimar sat on his horse beside the prince. Being a cavalryman, he had nothing to do until the break out was confirmed so he had asked to sit with the prince. Anárion had agreed, liking the company during his first real battle against the enemy.

"Captain Eldoran should be coming into action soon." Anárion said, trying to conceal his worry. Malimar smiled in the shadows and chose not to answer the statement. There was a cheer to the north and both men looked around to see the flash of reflecting light as the two divisions under Eldoran charged forward. Anárion waved to a messenger.

"My compliments to the duke. He may begin when ever he feels he is ready. Understand?" The man nodded and ran off into the night. Anárion waited as his men noisily attacked the north. For a few minutes the two men sat, almost holding their breath in anticipation. Then, with a sudden burst that brought them out of their daze, a great cheer echoed over the battlefield and then the fourth division could be seen charging. Anárion clapped his hands and smiled to the next aide.

"You may go lieutenant. My orders to all commanders, attack." He said and four messengers rode off to carry out his commands. A fierce battle raged where Coridius was but as they watched, the crest was taken and the shapes of the enemy could be seen going backwards. The prince turned to Malimar.

"Captain, send forward a squadron of cavalry each way and scatter those that are running."

Malimar saluted. "I shall do as you say lord prince." He said and rode down to where his men were mounted. He drew his curved sabre and rode to the front of two of his squadrons. The commander of the cavalry attached to the sixth division saluted at him.

"Captain, I want your men to head north and cut them down before they can reform." He turned to the commander of the attached fourteenth cavalry. "You will head south my friend. Link up with our men and the duke. Straight and hard, both of you." He said and the two men saluted and held up their blades to lead their men out. Malimar decided he had best ride on to the hill with his remaining twelve hundred cavalrymen. He held up his hand and then held it out in front and started his ride down the hill. Malimar rode forward just as he heard the cavalry of Arnor break through the enemy and ride them down to ruin. He rode through the entrances to the entrenchments and on into the night.

Malimar drew his sword as he saw, in the rising moonlight, a group of enemy retiring from the battlefield. He rose in his stirrups and slashed his sword down.

"Charge!" He shouted and his men, about thirty, followed him into the canter whilst the others continued at their normal pace. Malimar saw the enemy panic, in the moonlight they tried to scramble off the road but to one side was the Cantari Gorge and to the other was the advancing Arnorian and Gondorian infantry. A few of the enemy tried to fight but most tried to run. They were killed regardless as the light cavalry simply rode over most of them and used their swords on the survivors. When the last one was dead, Malimar held up his blade and his men reformed. The enemy had been over fifty but now they were dead. Malimar smiled to his men and led the way on. Riding slowly, ever fearful of an ambush, the horsemen rode on for two hours and as the moon set they came to their destination. Malimar rode behind the hill. He made sure he was in the right place by comparing a map of the area with his position and finally he laid aside the hand drawn map. He called to his commanders.

"All right, we are here and that is good. I want pickets up and set, good warning and I want everyone to be alert. The men can sleep tomorrow, but we have only twelve hundred men here and until the duke arrives, we are vulnerable. I want breastworks made; we have trees all around but do it quietly. No fires either. Understand?"

The cavalrymen nodded their acceptance and went about their business. Malimar sat as his men fashioned crude entrenchments to keep them busy. The night passed and as morning came, the men pulled back behind the reverse slope and into the trees behind. Malimar was nervous not only of attack from the front but also from the rear from fugitives from the battle. His caution was justified however as dawn broke, several hundred orcs appeared from the trees. Malimar had seen them approach and had the men roused. He let them come close and then he opened up with a volley of short bow fire which caused grievous damage and then the dismounted men charged in. Although trained to fight from horseback, the men also knew how to fight when their steeds were killed and so they set about the enemy with their curved sabres. Malimar slew several of the desperate enemy before they started to run back the way they had come. Just as Malimar was about to order pursuit, a hail of arrows sliced them down and then a host of armoured troops fell upon them. Malimar smiled to his men.

"We'll let them claim the glory this time. We will get it next time, yes?" He asked and his men laughed and sheathed their bloody sabres. Malimar walked forward to where a tall man was walking over the dead enemy. Coridius had two visible wounds and a dirtied and torn cloak but seemed in good spirits.

"Malimar my friend. I see you are here."

"You doubted that I would be?" The cavalryman asked, amused.

"Of course not. Quite the reverse actually. The 'simple path' Armarius told us about is simple enough in daylight but when you have to walk it at night, watching for the enemy it is not quite so simple."

"You got here though. We have built up some simple breastworks on the crest."

"I ran into your two detached cavalry squadrons. I have sent them on with the supplies as an escort. I was glad I had those elves, I fear we would still be blundering about in the river otherwise."

"So you did have some, the prince told me as much." Malimar said.

"I will have them post themselves to watch for the enemy approach. Some of the scum got away but even that is good."

"Where is the rest of the army?" Malimar asked.

"Levan will be here within two hours and Artirimar and the prince after that." Coridius turned to Detari. "Get the men on the reverse slope captain. I want men to make breastworks on the crest. Keep down though; I think we may have a little company later today."

"Of course lord duke." The man walked back to his command and soon the Arnorians were forming on the reverse slopes. The duke turned to Malimar.

"We will have to cover the whole hill until Levan arrives. He will be on the right and we on the left. It has gone well so far."

"We had them surprised but now their main force will come." He looked at his friend's arm which was oozing blood. "You should get that seen to my friend."

The duke smiled. "It is nothing. I have cleaned it up. You should get some sleep, as we all should. Nothing else is going to happen today, at least not for now."

Malimar looked at his friend with concern. "So should you Nantaris. You cannot go without sleep forever."

Coridius thought of reproving the man for using his last name but saw the sincerity in his eyes. The duke nodded slowly.

"Alright, I shall do that. Have pickets posted Malimar, I will be in the trees a little ways."

Coridius was dreaming of his city, of his wife and of the seven years they had been married. He was thinking of when he had met her when he was jolted back to wakefulness by a hand. He started and reached for his sword. A gentle voice calmed him.

"I am sorry lord duke but the baron told me to find you."

Coridius looked again to see it was one of the elves. He smiled and accepted the hand the elf offered him. He smiled and looked at the sun.

"What time is it?" He asked in alarm.

"Three hours to night lord duke." The elf smiled when he saw the shock on the duke's face.

"We were told to let you sleep. The cavalry captain said you needed it."

"Of course he did." Coridius said in common and the elf laughed at the tone. "So what is happening?" He asked so the elf could understand and the Eldar archer led him up to where Baron Levan was crouching down. The baron smiled as he came into view.

"Thankyou my friend, we may need you again soon." He said in recognisable Sindarin. Coridius had always supposed the baron had not been able to speak a word of it but now he was surprised.

"The sleeper has awoken. You might need it when you see this." Levan said and Coridius crawled to look over the breastworks. A column of orcish infantry was marching along the road. There were a mile away and seemed oblivious of the nearly forty thousand men just two thousand yards in front of them.

"I sent a messenger to the prince and he has redirected Artirimar and the supplies to the way we had come. They looked confident."

"We can soon change that. I will do the damage."

"As you wish, I will be ready in case we are needed."

The man seemed genuine about this and not joking about coming to rescue the Arnorians. Coridius nodded. "Thank you Levan." He said and crept back down to where his troops were. He saw the elvish leader and waved him over. The green elf appeared beside him with terrible noiselessness.

"Loquai, your eyes are better, how many of them are there?" He asked.

"I think about four or five thousand."

"And none behind?" He asked.

"None lord duke."

"Good, can you get Detari and Malimar up here?" He asked and the elf looked uncertain.

"I cannot speak to them." The elf said, humbled like it like it was a capital crime.

"Sorry, I forgot. Get your people together; your skills will have a part to play." He said and ordered his aides to fetch the two captains. They arrived and Malimar smiled winningly at him.

"How was your lordship's rest?" He asked innocently.

"I will deal with your insolence later Malimar but right now we have five thousand orcs about to march past us. I hope to savage them, is the artillery here?"

"It is lord duke. It is hidden as you can see, behind the crest."

"Good, I want all archers assembled quietly, ask the Baron for fire support. We fire one artillery volley, one arrow volley then we give them the cold steel."

"Very good lord duke." Detari said and ran back to his men. Coridius turned to Malimar.

"Get your lads ready, we will hit them with the horse and drive the foe to the death."

The cavalryman saluted and ran back whilst Coridius went up the slope where Loquai was waiting. The elf smiled.

"They are already marching past."

"They will be in position soon." Coridius said quietly in common. He looked to the elf. "You are a good shot I assume?"

The elf did not even bother to reply but just smiled. "Good, I want you to start us off. I want you to find their leaders and shoot them down. Then we begin. After that, you may shoot or fight as you please."

"As you wish lord duke." The elf said and turned to his friends. He seemed to be explaining the situation to them and then Coridius saw them disperse. He looked over the breastworks to see the enemy was almost in position. A moment more was all he needed.

The orcs marched along with great swiftness, four ranks along the road and without any thought of what lay in store for them. The orcs were just about to go past the hill when there was a twang and the orcish commander fell, an arrow through it's eye. The other orcs stopped and four more fell to arrows. There was a bellowing and roaring as they looked up the hill. They were just about to move forward to the hill when they stopped as the hill sprouted troops.

Loquai dropped to the ground and gave the signal to Coridius who drew his sword.

"Up boys, to the crest!" He shouted and the artillery, loaded and ready waited. Scores of bowmen filed into position. Coridius let the enemy see them for a few seconds and then shouted to his men.

"Let them have it now!" He shouted and with a great noise, the killing began.

There were two types of artillery, bolt firers and stone firers. They fired about the same weight in projectile but it was how they were fired that made them so different. The bolt throwers were aimed and fired directly into the enemy whilst the stones were reflected up from the ground to plough through the enemy.

In a second, great gaps were sliced in the enemy ranks and before they could even react, the archers fired a crushing volley. A thousand Arnorian and a similar number of Gondorian bows fired and the hail of arrows sliced like a scythe to slay whole ranks of the enemy. Coridius ran to the crest and pointed at the foe.

"Now go for them!" He shouted. The enemy had no chance, their numbers thinned, surprised and now panicked by the enemy boiling over the ridge they stepped back and tried to retreat.

Malimar drew his sabre and rode forward at the tip of the advancing human attack. He held the sabre's curved edge away from him and locked his elbow so that the tip would act like a small lance. The orcs recoiled from the thundering hooves and screaming men but they were too late. Malimar felt the tip of his sword rip into the foe and then he was pulling it free as he reared back his horse and slashed down. The mare simply rode over several of the foe and then it moved and kept moving while his blade hacked down again and again. The infantry and other cavalry poured in and soon the enemy was being overmastered and slain. Malimar rode through the enemy and turned back to hack down some fleeing foes.

Coridius roared and ducked a swing and ran the creature through, kicked the blade free and chopped again. Men were falling but so was the enemy and soon the orcs had no choice but to pull back before the deadly assault. As they stepped back, the men pushed forward with their shields and the enemy retreat became a rout. The duke cut down three more from behind and then watched as his light cavalry, guided by Malimar hit the enemy as they ran and slew even more of them, Coridius held up his hand and his men reformed and trudged up the hill, some helping wounded or carrying dead. Coridius walked along the hill crest, congratulating his men. He called out to them and told them to dig better breastworks now the enemy would know where they were. He walked along to Levan who was looking upon the mass of enemy dead on the roadway.

"Well done Coridius. Losses?"

"Not high, I think about one or two hundred." The baron nodded.

"Excellent, we shall have good news for the prince. I see the cavalry did their job."

"The cavalry always does their job." Coridius said with pride as he saw his friend ride back behind the ridge crest.

Levan nodded and walked off down the hill. Coridius turned and saw the elf, Loquai coming across to him. The elf smiled and gestured down to the camp. The duke walked beside the elven archer, his troops smiling at the two of them. The elf turned to him.

"That was a good job. I heard about you from Vlaimadous at the battle. I hope we can defeat them again tomorrow."

"Thank you for your words. That was a mighty first shot. I thank you for what you and your companions have done." Coridius said.

"Think nothing of it. We shall fight beside you tomorrow." The elf bowed slightly and walked away.

"I suppose they must like you, for some reason." Came that voice behind him. Armarius strode forward and took his hand.

"I did not know you were here you shirker."

"I wasn't, I just arrived. I saw the battlefield though. A good job."

"They walked into it but I agree that we did well."

"There will be many more of them tomorrow." The engineer said unhelpfully.

"Then we shall have to beat them." He said grimly.

"The prince wants to meet you. Then I am sleeping."

"Why, it is not as though you are going to fight tomorrow."

"And whose fault is it that I am more sensible?" The engineer said and stretched. "And besides, I am directing the artillery."

"Well, now we just have one more enemy to defeat."

The engineer nodded and walked with him over to where the prince was standing with Artirimar. They looked up as the gaunt looking Duke arrived.

"Excellent work Coridius. I have received word that the enemy will be arriving soon. They will not try a night assault but dawn tomorrow is bound to be interesting. You are on the left, Levan on the right. The reserve is with Artirimar here. Get some sleep; you could use it by the looks of it."

"Thank you lord prince. No other news?"

"The city is cleared of the enemy. Almost all of them are dead or gone and we have two extra large divisions to guard the city. The enemy is here and here they will stay."

"So it begins the first battle." Armarius said with surprising seriousness. Then he shrugged and walked back to the camp behind the hill. Coridius followed him, ready for the morning.

Prince Anárion looked down over his army, the sun was rising and a thin skein of mist hung over the battlefield to be. On the tallest part of the hill, the prince looked over where his men were standing to and forming up. The enemy had been arriving all night and now Anárion knew they would be waiting for first light to attack. That was unlikely to happen though as heavy clouds had poured in overnight from the sea so that the sun was being covered, making day into night again. The greyness of the day was a perfect match with the dark clouds above. Anárion did not consider himself superstitious but he wondered if the clouds were an omen for defeat but if they were for his army or the enemy he could not tell. Anárion was assailed by doubt as he looked at his men, he had not fought a pitched battle with nearly fifty thousand men behind him before and he wondered if he was capable of it. He had risked taking his men out to this plain and now he must show himself worthy. The mist was clearing in the breeze and Anárion looked upon the revealed ranks of the enemy. He shuddered at the sight.

"Formidable, are they not?" Anárion jumped as he turned. Artirimar stood there, his hair wet and his brown eyes filled with a concealed excitement. The scholar who preferred books but was ironically a great leader. The prince smiled at the man.

"How are you Halas?" He asked and the man smiled.

"Quite good considering I have never actually fought in a battle before. At least I am in reserve."

"You will do fine, and so will all of us." Anárion said and the man smiled gently.

"You must believe in yourself lord prince. We believe in you but you cannot do anything without knowing you can do it. Put aside your doubt my prince and fight for what you believe in."

Anárion looked at the man in amazement. "As you have?" He asked to give himself time.

"I am not a good example lord prince. You are a far better man that I, than almost anyone."

"Thank you Halas. Why now though?" He asked.

"I see doubt in your eyes Anárion. You wonder if you can live up to what people expect. Put it aside and become the Prince of Gondor as opposed to the person of the people." Artirimar said. He used the proper name of the prince, much to the astonishment of the son of Elendil.

Anárion straightened up and his face turned from worried and compassionate to the image of his father's son. Artirimar bowed and Anárion nodded calmly.

"Thank you Count Artirimar. To your place if you please." He said with deceptive calm.

"As you wish lord prince." The man saluted and walked back to his men.

On the ridge below, Coridius stood just behind his men, in between the fourth and eleventh divisions. The men were stretched out in deep ranks along the hill. Coridius Nantaris, Duke of Arthedain stood silent and composed himself for the battle. He was good with a sword but in the last two battles he had been clumsy, like a novice. The duke had not thought about it until know but he realised he very rarely fought anyone who could fight back. Before the battle of the Morinath Ravine, he had not fought an enemy to kill in twenty years or more. He thought of Valentai and how the commander had fought without thinking, his blade moving like a deadly feather. Coridius knew he had to change or his luck would run out eventually. His strokes were too flat, his movements too stilted and his attacks predictable. He resolved to try, on this day to fight like a fighter and not like a drill master. These thoughts were disturbed by the sound of footsteps behind. He turned to see Malimar coming towards him. The man smiled, but there was a hint of worry in them.

"Captain, would you say that I need to improve my fighting style?" He asked and the cavalryman smiled at the strange question.

"If you want my opinion, yes. Today is not the day to do it though."

"I thought so. I just remember Lord Valentai at that pass."

"Perhaps it is not the best idea to either compare him to anyone or try to be him." Malimar said.

"I know. It is just that I think I could learn something from his style." He looked at the man properly for the first time. "Are you alright?"

"Come with me." Coridius would have protested about the battle about to commence. "Please Nantaris." He said quietly and Coridius nodded and moved with his friend out of earshot.

"What is it?" He asked the cavalry officer.

"I just want you to know, in case I cannot say it again, that I have never known a better man than you." Coridius stared at his friend in surprise and a little alarm.

"You have never feared battle before." He said and his friend shook his head as though the duke did not understand.

"I do not fear death, not for myself and I do not fear battle. It is for those around me that I feel. I wanted to tell you what I said first because I had a feeling this morning. I had a feeling that I would not live through this day."

"Surely that was merely the mind playing tricks." Coridius said and his friend shook his head.

"No, I know I may fall today but I shall not hide from the fight. If I do fall, I want you to be the one to tell my wife."

Coridius nodded slowly. "I will not need to. Tonight we will be laughing at these words. If the worst happens, I will tell her and I will make sure she is looked after."

"Thank you lord duke." Malimar said and ran back to his men and mounted. The duke also walked back to his men, hoping that it was just a touch of apprehension in his old friend,

"The mist is clearing lord baron." An aide said and Levan nodded. He stood with his men on the taller of the two hills. He felt good about the day; he had not had a proper fight for years and now was as good an opportunity as any he had ever had. A light gust of wind blew the baron's short hair and then the mist cleared. Then Levan felt the first drop of rain. Before he could even look up, the whole of the field was being covered in an autumn rain that was heavy as well as cold. Despite being early autumn, it was still chill when soaked and the baron cursed. The bowstrings of his men would twist and weaken in the rain if it kept up. This battle would indeed need to be fought with steel alone. The rain was having the happy effect though of driving the mist aside so that the host of the enemy could be seen. Even at this distance, Levan could see they were not outnumbered by too many foes. It would be a hard battle though and the baron that it would take a critical blow to shatter the enemy. The rain now fell in a torrent of water and above the sky cracked with thunder. The horses of the cavalry whinnied in fright as each blast of lightning cracked over head. The orcs could now be clearly seen, a vast host that was spread thick facing the positions of the men of Gondor and Arnor. The two armies stared at each other for a moment as the rain hissed down and turned the ground slippery. The grass had been torn up by hooves in many places and there, the earth was turned instantly to mud. The orcs suddenly unleashed a great roar and clashed their shields once. Levan drew his sword and held it up. Like him, it was heavy, direct and unsubtle but it was a perfect weapon for the heavy man. He raised the sword and roared out to his men.

"Do not let them terrify you! Stand firm and they will fall before your steel!" He shouted and his men who were edging back from the sight raised their weapons and cheered.

The enemy made the first move, Levan could see a vast number, as much as twenty thousand gathering to attack his men on the right. Levan smiled at the difficulty of that option. Along with most of the archers and most of the artillery on his flank, he also had two steep slopes to protect his men. The rain continued as the enemy force made for the left as well. That was not the baron's battle and he focused on his own men. Holding the front line were his two best divisions, the sixth and the twelfth Gondorian. Good men from his homeland of the heartland of Gondor. He walked behind them as the enemy approached in three great columns. The infantry was on the lower slope of the hill whilst the archers and artillery were above them. The orcs detached the front of their columns and formed a broad line that held up their spears, screamed and charged across the three hundred yards of open space. Levan walked behind his archers, his moustache drooping in the wet and called out to his men.

"Hold your fire boys. Pick your targets, don't waste your shots. Put as much power into it as you can." He said as he reached the end of the line and walked back behind the bowmen. The enemy were coming forward and Levan held up his sword and shouted to his men.

"Draw!" He cried and the archers pulled back the already sodden bowstrings. An arrow was fired and Levan called again. "Hold!" The orcs were just a hundred yards from his front lines and the Baron of Aranath swept down his sword. "Fire!" He roared and the orcs, just seventy yards away felt the sting of Gondor.

The hail of hundreds of arrows tore into the massed ranks of the orcs as they scrambled forward through the wet ground. Crossing the road they were now hit by the arrows. Firing from above, the target was simply too large and scores of orcs fell in a few heartbeats. The centre of this line fell apart as the hail of shot converged on it with a whistling of death. The orcs pressed on and Levan turned to the war machines.

"Let them have it now!" He shouted and the heavy shot ploughed into the reformed enemy ranks. This was not as effective because the wet ground was soaking up the force of the stone balls far more than a dead body could. The orcs roared and charged up the hill. Now they were just twenty yards away and their ugly faces could be clearly seen. "Fire at will! Fire at the main columns!" Levan shouted and leapt down the hill to be behind his men as they prepared to receive the blow. He called for them to stand firm and his men in the front rank knelt and braced their spears on the ground. The men were a few yards back from the crest so that their strength could not be seen by the enemy. The men were nervous as the enemy broke onto the plateau in a wave. Levan had them though. He had strung archers along, behind his front line and now, as the enemy burst onto the flat ground the archers fired and the hail of arrows cut many down. The remainder leapt over their dead and charged forward through the slippery ground and the dank air.

"At them boys!" Levan shouted and pushed his way through to face the foe. The orcs rushed at his line but his men held their swords and shields and met the enemy with a sickening crash of blades, armour and flesh. Levan roared like a mountain bear and hewed an orc so cleanly that he fell, almost cut in two by the force of the cut. An orc came at the baron but he smashed the pommel into it's forehead and swept off it's head. There was nothing elegant about the fighting style he used but the baron had long held that the only good fighting stance was one that left you alive and the enemies dead. In the press of bodies, the pole-arms of both sides became useless and swords and knives were used. The shining steel of Gondor met and drove back the corroded iron of the orcs. It could not last, out numbered and out fought, the orcs withdrew. As they ran, the archers seized up their bows and the hail of fire cut down nearly half of those that ran. The baron bellowed at his men to reform. This was just a test, he knew that. An aide ran up and Levan looked at the man.

"Captain Terivan says the enemy is bringing up archers below the hill and will try to fire up the slope at you."

"Concentrate your fire on the columns and the war machines especially at the mass. Leave the archers."

"As you wish lord baron." The man saluted and was gone.

Levan could hear the whistling of arrows overhead grow less in number and he assumed it was because the columns were on the forward slopes and thus out of sight. When they appeared however, only the war machines fired and the few arrows that were loosed were not enough to stop the enemy. The artillery though was brutally effective. A single bolt or stone slashed blood gaps in the ranks and formed lines of dead, sometimes felling ten or twelve. The ballistae especially did a wicked job and felled the enemy.

Levan watched as the enemy columns formed in front of him. The enemy formed line and branched out and Levan knew that it was this attack that would truly test them. He called an aide over and spoke quickly to the man.

"Lieutenant, I want you to give my compliments to their commanders and bring the seventh and eleventh forward, do you understand?"

The man nodded and ran off. Levan saw the enemy was ready and raised their weapons for the great bull charge that would crash upon his men soon. The war machines fired again but there was little they could do against such a host. The archers in his line continued to fire but suddenly a hail of bolts few from the enemy and dozens of his men were hit at such close range. The Gondorians relied but their shots were growing fewer. Levan turned angrily to the captain in charge.

"Why aren't you firing captain?" He shouted and the man answered with anger in his voice.

"It is the bow strings. They are snapping in the wet."

"Damn it man! Get them in the front line with swords."

Levan's men were ready for the second volley and fewer fell to it. There was not third volley and the baron saw the enemy flinging their useless bows aside. He smiled; it seemed that fortune had not abandoned him. The enemy roared and charged across the mere twenty yards of body strewn muddy ground. The enemy ran forward and Levan shouted at his men.

"Go for them boys!" He cried and his men rushed forward to meet this onslaught.

Levan brought down his heavy blade with a brutal cut onto the head of the enemy before him. He ripped it free and chopped again and again until soon, there were few that would face him alone. The lines met with brutal and terrible force and men were hurled backward and the wounded were trampled into the mud and water as the living fought over them. The men of Gondor fought like heroes but were met by the stubborn refusal of the enemy to withdraw and so the two sides hacked and cut until the ground was pooled with as much blood as water. Levan could see his men faltering as the enemy pushed forward with greater strength. Levan knew that his men would be driven back soon; their strength was diminishing and their fear returning. Levan seized a banner, the banner of the white tree and stuck his sword in his latest victim. He held the banner over his head and cried to the men of the two reserve divisions.

"Now my friends! Your country needs you!" His voice rose above the battlefield din and he saw men in both lines cheer as he handed the flag back and pulled his sword free. The men of Gondor looked at themselves in the rain and the blood and the screams. They saw their fear and they snarled and drove forward to rid their minds of this thought.

The divisions of Gondor behind decided the fight, they swept forward and the sheer impact of the formations pushing forward threw their enemies back. Shaken, disorganised and now outnumbered, the orcs feel back and tried to retreat in an ordered way but they were forced back and with a roar of hatred and anger, the men swarmed forward, fresh men driving back the fatigued enemy. With a shout the enemy broke and was suddenly nothing more than a panicked mass. The Gondorians were among them and many were the slain as the heavy broadswords were used in both hands to hack down the fleeing foe.

Levan saw his men triumph and knew he had to hold them back or else they would be prey to counter attack. He shouted to his men.

"Boys, back to the line boys!" He shouted and grudgingly, his men obeyed and pulled back. As the enemy fled, the archers above managed to fire one last volley which slew even more on the slopes of the hill. Levan sheathed his sword and walked over to his three remaining captains. The captain of the sixth was dead and so were many others but the mounds of the enemy dead were almost knee high.

"I want the two freshest divisions forward and the two fatigued ones behind that."

The men hurried to obey. Levan looked around in approval, they had survived.

Duke Coridius saw the orcs retreat but he had his own problems. The orcs had a less steep slope to come up and his men had virtually no archery support. Coridius also had only one division in reserve as his men were spread out thinner. The orcs were coming forward but the duke was a good enough general to know that they had learned against wisdom of the frontal assault. The orcs came forward and advanced forward. A similar force would strike them whilst Coridius could see that the enemy was massing troops to his left to flank him. He ordered all of his archers to the left and had Artirimar form up behind to go to left or centre as desired. The enemy was coming forward and he had his men on the brow of the hill where they had the advantage of attacking downhill. His three divisions were deployed in the line with the fourteenth in reserve behind. The orcs were coming forward, aiming for his left flank as well as the centre to keep his troops pinned in place. Coridius sighed and called his messenger over and spoke to him quickly.

"Tell Captain Tarien that he needs to move his troops over to our left and meet up with the oak leaves." The man nodded and ran off. Coridius drew his long sword and walked behind his men. Spears and swords were ready. He had his men drawn up in ranks five deep with a small reserve which he could use to his advantage. While Levan was ordering his two divisions to reinforce him the orcs cheered and charged. They slogged up the hill, they charged into all the archery the Arnorians could muster. All this did though was drive them further to his right and into the centre of the line. The orcs charged up the slope and his men looked at him grimly. Coridius shouted to his men.

"Front rank, kneel! Second rank, brace spears!" He shouted and his men obeyed and the men behind had their swords drawn to fight the enemy. The orcs rushed up the slope, encouraged by the lack of fire coming at them and they charged up the hill.

"Now boys!" Coridius shouted and the spears, laid in the mud were pulled up and braced against the hill slope as the enemy war about to strike. The orcs ran onto the long shafts and staggered from the surprise attacks. Then they pressed over the dead and the duke shouted again. "Now boys, give them the cold steel!" He shouted and his men roared to drown out the din of the enemy and pressed forward. Trying to come up the hill in the face of the swords of Arnor, the orcs suffered heavily but they fought back. Using spears and bows they killed and then rushed forward to overwhelm the enemy. Coridius appeared in the front rank and yelled to his men again. "Go for them men, run them off our land!" His men shouted their approval and charged down the slope. The conditions were terrible as both sides struggled as much with the rain and the slope as with the enemy. Coridius swept his long sword around to throw down an enemy. He forced himself to be calm and control his blade like it was part of himself. He remembered Valentai and tried not to impersonate the moves but the flowing style of it. An orc fell with it's torso slashed open and he pirouetted to cut down another foe. The orcs were being forced back but his men were suffering as well and could not press forward. The slope was a disadvantage to all as the enemy found it easier to duck under the sword cuts and stab upwards. Coridius shouted his men on as the sword threw aside thrusts and cuts and stabbed and slashed his foes. The fourth did so well as to drive down the hill, opening a gap between themselves and the Gondorians which Detari had to fight to close against the enemy.

The enemy was slowly driving them back so Coridius pointed to the slope and called his men back. He pulled the men back behind the crest as the enemy pursued over the broken bodies of the dead and wounded. The orcs, sensing victory charged over the hill's brow and saw their foe waiting for them. They formed ranks and moved forward but the duke walked to the front of his men and shouted at them.

"The day is ours if we push them! Who will come with me?" He yelled and the men of Arnor, who had no intention of retreating, followed him. The orcs stopped and then took a step back as the great assault came at them. The orcs let out one last cry and then the two lines clashed.

The result was everything Duke Coridius could have hoped for, the orcs were physically thrown back by the force of the impact and those that were pushed to the ground were trampled or slaughtered as the men charged over them. The orcs fell in droves before his spears and swords and then they reached the hill crest and the foe was plunging backwards to the treacherous slope behind them. Coridius sliced one final foe and nodded in approval as his men stopped their pursuit at the crest. He held his stained sword in triumph but turned at a loud cry to see his own defeat coming.

Captain Detari knew he was in trouble as his lone division; facing south west faced the outflanking might of the enemy army. With the cavalry and archers detached, his men numbered just over four thousand. Now ten thousand of the enemy came at him and he was all that stood between them and victory. The captain saw Coridius' men sweep the enemy from the hill just as the enemy charged. They charged right at the junction of his division and the eleventh, the banner of the oak leaves hanging limp in the rain. The final charge had created a gap and now the orcs swarmed upon the weak link in the chain. The men of the eleventh were forced to defend themselves but many were caught before they could retreat back. A small group died to the last man to give their friends time to retreat back. Detari ran forward and shouted at his men to form line to resist his foe. He knew that the enemy had him at the disadvantage. He was outnumbered at least two to one and the orcs were now confident of victory and moved forward as though they expected the new line to flee before them. Detari knew he must buy time for Artirimar to bring forward his reserves. He drew his sword and raised it in the air.

"For Arthedain and the king! Charge!" He roared the last word and his men hefted their blades and charged across the muddy hill top. The enemy formed a spear hedge and his men charged in, regardless of the losses they took. With the strength of desperation and a desire to win, the men of Arnor threw themselves into the fight. Detari felt a spear stab sickeningly into his left arm and he howled and hacked with just one hand. He pressed forward and his men were with him and for a moment it seemed as though their courage alone would stay the enemy threat but it was not to be. The numbers of the enemy were too great and the men of Arnor were driven back with great loss. Detari saw his men lose heart and he thought of pulling back then he shook his head. He had failed his friend and he had failed the prince. His men were calling for him to retreat but Detari knew his time was over. He seized his sword with one hand and rushed a mass of the enemy. He got several blows in before he fell with a spear in his side. He fell to the bloody mud of the ground, not quite dead but unable to move. The men of the fourteenth division saw their leader fall and they retreated, scores of them were dead and the left flank of the army seemed in peril. The orcs were massing against Coridius' remaining men in the front line and it seemed as though the enemy might have struck the fatal blow. Seeing ruin all about them, the men of Arnor stepped back. They were panicking and only one more death might have caused rout. Then a voice stopped them dead.

"Fourteenth, halt!" Came the voice that none could refuse. The men looked to see the prince at the head of Artirimar's two divisions, the last reserves of infantry in the army. The prince was a different man, a man from legends of the past who led with a will of iron and a mind of fire. He dismounted and took his place in the front line. His red cloak was conspicuous in the front rank and he drew his sword.

"Men of Arnor, men of Gondor. Will you let your nations die this day, will you see all that you love devoured by these monsters?" He asked. There was a roar of revulsion and denial so he spoke again. "Then all who wish to save their lands follow me." He did not need to say what men who would not fight could do.

The three divisions cheered and charged. The enemy, on the brink of a shattering success saw the swords and spear of the resurgent humans coming for them and they ceased their advance and tried to form a line. A few bows cracked but most of them would not fire in the rain that still fell on the field. Anárion held his long sword before him and ran at the enemy who snarled at the red cloaked man who led them. The orcs roared and came forward to meet the men in battle. It was their final mistake. The moment they moved forward from their shield wall they were doomed. The mass of thirteen thousand men hit the now out numbered orcs with their shields out and simply ploughed through them. Whole groups of the enemy were crushed and those behind tried to fight but the fury of the men was terrible and they threw themselves forward without thought for personal safety. Anárion ducked a slash and hacked his foe down, stabbed an orc, parried an axe cut and kicked a fourth orc in the chest. Turning he sliced the third down and then watched as his foes were thrown back by the vengeful humans whose blades ran black and red with blood.

The orcs turned and tried to flee but they were encumbered with bodies and the swords of the Edain found them there. Anárion stabbed the last orc and held up his hand to stop his men's pursuit. He called an aide to him.

"Go and tell Captain Malimar that now is his time." He said and the man nodded and ran to the rear. The rain was easing slightly but was still heavy and causing many problems for those trying to move through it. Anárion walked to Coridius' side. The man was staring at something and Anárion was about to ask what it was and then he saw his doom.

The battle had been a stalemate so far but now the enemy had one more reserve of troops. Over twenty thousand fresh enemy troops were advancing and behind them came the tired enemy troops, eager to break through. Anárion called over another messenger.

"Tell Captain Malimar that he must press the attack into the main body. He will be supported." The prince turned to the duke.

"Let us hope Malimar knows what he is doing, he is our last reserve."

Malimar cast aside his apprehensions as a messenger arrived with both messages. Malimar listened to both of them and then nodded.

"Thank you my friend." He said and the man rode back up the hill. Malimar turned to the five elves who, for some reason had discarded their bows in the wet and had joined him. He wondered idly what sort of courage that could take to be almost alone among another race but pushed the thought aside. He drew his sword and turned his horse to his men. The third light horse looked at him and he smiled.

"I knew it boys; it is up to us to win the day! Form line, stay in ranks and hit hard and we shall carry the day!" He shouted and held his sword up. He nodded to the elves who seemed to understand his meaning and drew their long blades. Malimar turned and yelled to his left.

"Trumpeter sound the advance! Charge!" he roared and his men bellowed their agreement and he held his sword up and rode at the tip of the cavalry charge. His men, behind the hill thundered due west and then turned at the gallop and the first enemy came into view. Those orcs, just thrown back by Anárion were before him and Malimar rode at them and the thundering of hooves became an earth shaking thunder that rocked the ground. The orcs looked with shock and terror at the mighty host of mounted killers that was coming down towards them. Eighteen hundred riders in three ranks in a charge that spanned nearly a half mile launched into the full gallop. The orcs got to scream once before they disappeared. Without a sword being chopped down or a lance broken, the enemy were simply ridden over and their bodies, broken and crushed were ridden over by the following ranks. Malimar laughed his delight as his great mare trampled three enemies to ruin and then he saw his target, a mass of the enemy that outnumbered him at least ten to one. He did not care, he would have support from Coridius and the day would be his. The orcs, fresh and confident of victory saw their allies trampled to blood and death and stopped. As they did the war machines took a fearful toll of them. This was not a concern to them though as they tried to form ranks to meet this tide of death that now was just a hundred yards away.

Malimar held his sabre out like a lance and urged his horse to go faster. The riders behind let out a high pitched yell that seemed to fill the enemy with as much fear as the sight of eighteen hundred cavalry coming at them. The enemy tried to step back but there was nowhere to go.

The cavalry struck. Hitting just behind the corner of the front right of the column, the blow was massive. The orcs were simply overmastered and ridden down. As they got further in, the horsemen dispersed and spread wider. The enemy recoiled before the thrust but then they came forward to overwhelm those who had dared attack them. The charge had been terribly devastating and disastrous at the same time for it trapped the riders, alone with the enemy. Malimar rode his horse forward and the elves followed him. The enemy were panicked by the charge and the new attack faltered. It faltered but was not defeated. The great column of the enemy moved forward to overcome the few cavalry that opposed them. Malimar knew that the retreat must be kept moving, that the enemy could not be allowed to reform and regroup and escape the battlefield. Malimar knew now that he was probably going to his death but he was content that it would be in a cause worth fighting for. He turned in his saddle to the horsemen arrayed before him.

"Men of Arnor and Gondor, will you follow me? To victory!" He shouted and the horsemen galloped forward behind him. Many had fallen but hundreds remained in the saddle, enough to form a great line that swept to the centre of the enemy line. The horsemen charged and Malimar held his bloody, notched sword out and cried his war cry as the enemy stopped and formed ranks. The charge was bound to fail, outnumbered, tired and charging a fresher mass of infantry, the cavalry should have been defeated.

Anárion did not disappoint his allies in this regard. He saw the cavalry hit home and held his sword up and his men cheered the foe and Anárion ran to the crest of the hill and swept his sword down. The men of the two armies thundered their rage and anger. Then with a rush, the entire army charged in one wave that flowed down the hill and over the plain. Coridius charged forward at the head of his men and his blade was bright even though it was covered with blood and dark because of the clouds overhead. The men of the combined armies ran at a sprint across the bloody battlefield, down the treacherous slope and then across the plain to where the cavalry had just launched their final charge. It was three hundred yards across the muddy, uneven ground for the tired, weighed down men but they would not give up. Coridius led them and his anger drove him as he charged into the final battle.

The cavalry struck home. This time though, many fell to spears or pole-arms carried by the enemy. The horses swerved aside, unable to charge the wall of points so they flowed around it. Many of the horsemen did strike home, they found a weak point in the line and punched through, the light cavalry sliced and cut and hacked until the enemy were being forced back. The orcs fought on though and they started to surround this mounted foe and soon the cavalry were being dragged from the saddle and butchered on the ground. The great mass of the enemy was fracturing though and then the infantry arrived. It was a charge from the depths of desperation, six divisions of the left flank and the reserve, tired and having lost many men, thundered into he enemy. They would not be stopped though and smashed into the enemy front line. Malimar reared his horse up and sliced with terrible precision onto the skull of an enemy who was beside him. He turned and hacked to his left and then rode on. The horse lashed out with it's hooves and more of the enemy fell to the steel shod legs. Malimar saw a group of the enemy trying to reform and he yelled at his men to ride at them, he saw his friend's sword hacking into the enemy and knew Coridius had won this battle. Malimar rode at the enemy. There were ten of them and they scattered as the big horse slammed into them. The cavalryman hacked his blade down to kill two of them with swift strikes. One orc had survived the charge and now cut down with an axe into the horse's head. The mare screamed and fell, Malimar threw himself clear and sprawled in the mud. The orc seized a spear and stabbed at him but he rolled aside and scrambled upright. He picked up a blade from the ground and blocked a blow from the orc. Moving forward with great speed, the captain cracked the orc on the jaw with his fist but then had to turn to parry a blow from a second orc. Malimar saw his men on the verge of victory as the enemy started to fall into full retreat. The infantry was not far away and Malimar knew the battle was won. He orcs had seen this lone dismounted man and now it seemed they resolved to kill him as he stood alone. The second orc swung again and Malimar ducked and seized a spear from the mud. Swinging it like a pole-axe the heavy shaft crushed the foul throat and threw it's body to the ground. Then he gasped, the orc he had knocked down and forgotten had drawn a knife and as he turned it thrust the blade deep in between his arm and throat. Malimar gasped but then he seized the knife and ripped it free. He grappled with the orc and stabbed it in the stomach and then smashed it's head back so the enemy fell to the ground. He tried to turn but then he felt a sword slice open his side. The cavalryman fell and as the three orcs moved in to finish them off a new enemy appeared. Loquai, the green elf of Eregion leapt from his horse and attacked the enemy with his long blade. The first fell in an instant whilst the second managed to get only a single swing off before he also was killed the last one swung a badly timed blow and the elf ran him through.

Coridius saw his friend knocked from his horse and saw him fight desperately. A rage built inside the duke and then, it was unleased with terrible fury. With a cry of anger and despair he hacked at the few enemies that fought. Now his emotions and instincts gave him strength as he attacked. There was nothing flowing about his attacks, only brutal and vicious anger. The last orcs were fleeing and being cut down. The rear parts of the enemy army were fleeing and Coridius snarled as he saw his men reform. He wanted the enemy destroyed and he snarled at the new captain of the fourth.

"Captain, get these men moving!" He shouted. The captain squared his shoulders and saluted grimly.

"No, lord duke. We cannot move on any more."

The duke's eyes blazed with anger and then he nodded as the good man who was the Duke of Arthedain regained control. He nodded tiredly. "Thank you captain. I am sorry. Reform the men on the hill crest with the Baron Levan and send out men to collect the wounded."

The man saluted and began the grim task of reorganising the fatigued divisions. The rain had finally stopped and Coridius looked grim as he walked over to where he had seen his friend fall. He had a terrible feeling in his heart about what the cavalry captain had said this morning had come true. He saw the elf, Loquai kneeling beside his friend. The Eldar was whispering to the man in Sindarin to try to distract him from his mortal wounds. The elf looked up as the duke approached. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. Coridius sighed and knelt down in the mud by his friend. He was just fifty yards from the road but it was a road so choked with dead that the stone of the roadway could be hardly seen now.

Coridius looked at the black haired elf. He smiled and touched the elf on the shoulder. "Thank you my friend. Is it certain?" he was glad for once that his friend did not speak elvish.

"I am sorry lord duke. His insides are cut, he cannot live much longer. He was calling for you but I could not understand what else he said."

"I thank you again. Leave me my friend." He said and the elf nodded and went to find his companions.

Coridius kelt by the dying cavalryman and took his shoulder. "Malimar?" He asked.

The wounded man opened his eyes and smiled weakly. "Nantaris, I knew you would win in the end. I am sorry, I have failed you."

"What talk is that?" Coridius said with false cheer. "You have won a great victory. You will live; I have the surgeon coming as soon as he can."

"Do not waste their time on me my friend. I am dying." He raised a hand slightly. "I know and so do you. I might not speak elvish but I knew what you were saying."

"I am sorry my friend." Coridius said and his friend smiled.

"Do not be. I died in a place where no one is dishonoured. I hope that one day we meet again but not for many years of men. Do not let grief eat you Nantaris. For now you are on your own."

He laid back and Coridius spoke to him again. "Don't go yet." He said and the captain of cavalry spoke one final time.

"I have no choice. Look after my family and win this war for me."

He laid back and closed his eyes one final time. Coridius nodded to a soldier. "Take him back. See he is given a good end."

The man nodded and Coridius sheathed his sword. He looked over the fields of dead and felt sick. He wanted to speak to no one, only to sit with himself for a while. He was so tired, so angry and so sorrowful. He walked for his tent and did not even pay attention when his new second in command saluted him.

Levan stood with Anárion and saw the duke pass by. Levan nodded to Coridius.

"Malimar is dead. Killed in the final charge."

Anárion winced. There were few men who had been closer friends than them and the loss of one was a blow that would devastate the Arnorian duke. Anárion looked back to the baron who looked tired but exuberant.

"A great victory." The prince said and the baron nodded.

"A mighty blow. Half the enemy is dead and the other half will never recover. Osgiliath is saved."

Anárion had turned back to his more normal persona after the battle was won. He nodded but could not stop thinking of the piles of his dead that lay on the hill and on the plain.

"I regret the escape of the enemy." Anárion said as though it was tantamount to defeat. Levan snorted.

"There was nothing we could do and you know it lord prince. In this battle there was nothing we could do to stop them." He saw the prince's frown. Levan sighed. "Listen Anárion, we won the battle. We destroyed them and we lost men. We cannot fight wars without casualties and you know that as well. If this gives us peace for two years or one year or even half a year it will be worth it. You cannot be a commander if you hold back men to save them. That only leads to more death."

Anárion nodded at the lecture. The baron was right of course but this first battle had horrified the prince, his men dead and the piles of the enemy vast. In many ways, Levan reflected, Anárion was still like a child even though he was one of the oldest men alive. Levan hated war but if there was going to be a war then it must be won no matter the cost. Levan knew his half brother was dead this day and although it would affect him, it would not control him

"Look after this Levan. Pile the enemy and burn them, collect our dead and bury them. See to the wounded and prepare for the return march tomorrow. I have a dispatch to write."

Levan nodded and took charge of the cleanup. The big man was pleased with the day's course and as his men cheered them he joined in their celebrations and helped them pile the dead and retrieve the injured. All the while he joked with them and the men, who had never thought him a great man, came to respect this big, awkward man with his great strength and deceptive intelligence.

"Nantaris, may I come in?" Came the accent through the door. There was nothing sardonic in the tone, just utter seriousness.

Coridius shrugged as though he did not care if the old engineer entered. The duke had stripped off his sword and armour and changed into a slightly cleaner outfit. He stared at the wet floor of the tent. He did not even look up as the engineer sat opposite him. Armarius looked in concern at his friend, as soon as he had heard the news he had decided to come and see the duke.

"I am sorry for your loss Coridius." He said in his soft accent.

"So am I Armarius." He said dully.

"He was a good man Coridius. He died in battle like a soldier should. Do not let your grief control you." He advised softly.

Coridius stared vacantly at the floor. Finally he spoke, with a tone and words that made the engineer frown. "He told me this morning that same message. He could see his death this morning and he felt no fear. He was more of a brother than a subordinate or even a friend. I will not let my anger govern me." He stopped and stared vacantly past Armarius. "In a way it was good he died now."

"What?" Armarius said, surprised by the changes in conversation.

"If he survived this war he would have only a few more years to live. You know this Armarius, the difference between a Númenorian and a native man."

Armarius bowed his head. "All too well." He said at the thought of his wife dead of old age when she was barely half his age.

"He would have preferred a death in battle to one of disease or age. I shall never forget him but I shall move on." He sighed. "I shall write to his wife. Why he is not coming back. Leave me Armarius; leave me to my grief for just a little more time."

Armarius knew it was time to leave and so he nodded and left the tent.

"So Levan, tell me the tally." Anárion said grimly. It was night and men were still being collected from the fields. The wounded that could be saved were being sent back to Osgiliath whilst those who would die were given drugs to die in peace or had their lives ended more mercifully by a swift cut to the throat. Now the five commanders sat in the tent of the prince. Coridius was more alive now and was even happy at the result of the victory.

"From my preliminary reports, mostly estimates and compile counts. I believe we lost between six and seven thousand dead or those who will die and the same amount that are wounded but will live. The enemy," he shrugged, "I cannot say of course. I think at least three times our total for all losses would not be unreasonable/"

"So their army is ruined." Artirimar said in shock.

"It would seem so Halas." Levan said. "We have won a victory that will set the enemy back by years maybe. Once Daguerre arrives we will have the whole army and then we can take stock of the situation from there."

"I agree with Levan. We have won time, precious time with which to help Arnor ready it's army."

"And to get an alliance with the Eldar." Armarius said.

"That is possible." Levan admitted.

"How did your new volunteers go Coridius?" Anárion asked to bring the duke into the conversation.

"Two of them are dead but the others are fine. Their leader fought off the orcs around Malimar long enough for me to talk with him."

"We will bury them with high honours. Maybe it is an omen of better times." Anárion said.

"What will they do now?" Armarius asked.

"Return I suppose to Imladris. The enemy is not coming again for a year at least and when they do we can beat them back." Coridius said.

"And you Duke Coridius? Will you return home?" Anárion asked.

"I do not know for certain. I believe that I will pull my men back to a river guard position once Daguerre arrives. I have no desire to return home because I shall have to return soon anyway. I will ask the king, he may wish me back."

"You are welcome as long as you desire." Anárion said. He looked slightly embarrassed for a moment. "I want you to know, that I believe we could not have even fought this battle without you let alone won it. I just wanted you to know that Gondor cannot thank you enough."

"I was glad I could be here lord prince. My men are all volunteers who knew the danger and fought on regardless. This war will be won eventually and I hope that then there will be greater interaction between these nations."

The four others nodded and Coridius smiled and held up his glass. "To victory gentlemen." Five glasses clinked as the victory was celebrated.

Coridius, Duke of Arthedain stood as he had just two weeks before when Artirimar had arrived and stared out to rhe hill to the west of the city. The middle of autumn approached and the mornings were darker and colder than they had been on the day of the battle of the hill. The duke sighed and made to turn away when he heard the sound of cheers. At the picket lines, two men, riding tall on their horses were riding through. Their faces and features could not be seen properly from that distance and so Coridius waited as they reached the bottom of the valley and rode slowly forward.

"The Archduke and the Compte of Rhovan I assume." Came a voice from behind him and Coridius jumped and spun around to see Loquai standing behind him. Coridius sighed loudly.

"I thought I told you to stop doing that. Can't you make some noise or announce your presence and not creep up behind me."

The elf smiled slyly. "It is not my fault lord duke if you cannot hear us. We cannot simply make noise when we want."

"Except when you talk." Coridius muttered but should have known from his friendship with Gildor that the elves had excellent hearing. The green elf smiled happily and Coridius became serious again.

"What with all the time it has taken to reorganise and heal the wounded and bury the dead, I have not had a chance to talk to you. I wanted to know what your plans are now. There will not be a pitched battle here for a while, probably for a couple of years. Will you stay or leave?"

The elf considered the question for a long time. "I will stay until I hear word of what our leaders are doing. If they have formed an alliance we will go and join them, otherwise we will stay with you."

"I would not mind that." Coridius said genuinely and the Eldar smiled.

"My sister wishes to stay but I told her it is best to return with all of our forces."

"I have not talked to her. What is her name?"

"Serenarth. She is younger than me and is recovering from a wound in the shoulder at the battle."

"Will she be alright?" Coridius asked and the elf was touched by the empathy in the man's tone. He could see why he was an elf friend and a friend of Gildor and Elrond.

"Yes, thankfully. She will be fine soon. While we stay, may we stay in your guard?"

"Of course my friend. Come whenever you wish. It must be hard, not speaking to most people."

"If we stay here for a long time then we will learn your language."

"I will help you if you need it."

The elf was about to thank the duke again when the two riders dismounted at the gate and walked through to where the two fighters were standing. The elf bowed and stepped back and Coridius came forward.

The man on the left was a tall grey haired man with a scar near his left eye. He had a grey moustache and wore a travel stained grey cloak and armour. Grey was evidently his favourite colour. Coridius did not need any introduction as the man looked about the place as though it was his city. Which of course it was. Archduke of Osgiliath, Antonine Daguerre was an impressive man who radiated sense and honesty. He had a reputation for strategy that dated back to far before the fall of Númenor. He had been Elendil's captain of the guard and was the second oldest man left alive after that king. He was still strong and vigorous for his age and many spoke of his blood being close to that of the first king of Númenor. A pleasant man whose kindly demeanour hid a nerve of iron and a will of steel. He was the real leader of the combined army and even Anárion could not overrule his experience. In retirement for several years, he had taken up the sword for the duration of this war in hopes that he might be able to retire finally at the end of it. He was excellent friends with Armarius and it showed something about his personality that such a serious man could have such an unusual friendship. He disliked Levan, made so because of the baron's refusal to see sense and not persuade Isildur to build Minas Ithil. Daguerre was a man though who did not keep grudges, at least not in battle.

"Duke Coridius Nantaris I presume. I have not seen you in nigh on twenty years my friend."

"It has been too long. How are you my friend?"

"Tired and in desperate need of a drink of water. That rain we have been having has made it awful hot in the days and the mornings cold." He smiled at the younger duke. "I hear that all the victory celebrations are in your name my friend. So what persuaded you to leave your rural ignorance and come and do a day's work?"

"I heard you could not work out the difference between a spade and an axe so we had to come and keep this nation alive."

Daguerre laughed. "That would be Armarius I presume. Trying to incite treason against me is he? I will show him the justice of Gondor." He said happily. "Where is the rogue by the way?"

"In the palace, we heard you were coming today so we have a meeting in two hours."

"I just wanted to know so I could avoid him. I will talk to you later Coridius, and stay away from him you hear." He said and strode away.

Coridius shook his head and looked to the second man who also needed no introductions. This man had golden brown hair like varnished pine and green eyes that were bright and watchful. A tall man of great strength, he was nobody's fool. This was the last of the commanders, Daelian Provinde, the Compte de Rhovan. His lands were Calenardhon and all the lands along the river from Cair Andros to the woods of Lórinand Although the largest territory in area, it was the smallest in population and the most dangerous. Provinde was not a diplomat or a negotiator but a near tactless man who inspired respect in equal parts to enemies and friends. None of this meant he was unintelligent, quite the opposite it was just that he had no time for conversation or indirect phrases. His dislike of other races was well known and now he stared at Loquai until the elf got sufficiently unsettled as to walk away. Provinde nodded to the duke.

"I hear you did well." He said as though stating a fact.

"My men did well. And you Daelian?"

"I am well. My men are in good sprits."

Coridius knew there would be no friendly responses from the Compte de Rhovan. He nodded. "I will see you later, I am sure you have much to tell." Coridius said and the man nodded.

"I do, goodbye Duke Coridius." He said and walked off into the city

The duke watched the man walk away. He had heard from his friend, Artirimar that there was another side to the blunt Númenorian but he had not seen it. The mere fact though that he was friends with Artirimar however showed a new perspective on the man. The compte had risen from a regular soldier after arriving on one of the nine ships to this position. Now, he was the third highest ranked non royal in the army. He was a remarkable man who was far more at home in the wilderness or on a bloody plain than in a palace or a dance floor.

Duke Coridius shrugged and walked into the city. He had nothing else to do so he decided to go to the river and then to the palace early. The prince had suggested that a statue be set up in tribute of the Arnorian dead but the duke had refused and told Anárion to wait for the end of the war.

Prince Anárion walked along his private balcony of his room overlooking the River Anduin. He stared east to the looming shadow of the black mountains but he felt good. He could see the battlefield from here, the funeral pyres which were so much ash now, blowing on the wind. Anárion smiled as he thought of the victory they had one and the time they had gained. The enemy was in a bad position now and would have to stall their plans for some time. A direct assault on Osgiliath would fail, no matter no great the strength of the enemy became. Anárion turned and looked north and thought of his brother and hoped he was well. More important for the prince in him, he hoped his brother had been able to form an alliance. His message had been send the morning after victory and the news of it would doubtless arrive in the north kingdom soon. Anárion was interrupted by the sound of his room's door opening. His guard was inside so the prince did not worry when he heard voices inside. He looked to the east, assuming it was a messenger. He did not look around as the steps echoed on the stone of the wide balcony.

"Fortune has smiled upon you so far but fortune is fickle. So I am here to balance it out."

Anárion turned at the tone and smiled when he saw who it was. He held out his hand. "Archduke Antonine Daguerre. How are you my old friend?"

Daguerre smiled at the younger man. "I am well my friend. I hear you covered yourself in glory and I was not here."

"No, that I regret. We had to move swiftly though."

"I am not complaining lord prince. I would not begrudge you such a victory."

"We could not have done it without the Arnorians."

"I saw Coridius before." Daguerre stated.

"He was of assistance, great assistance. Malimar was killed though."

"The cavalryman? I never knew him but I knew he was close with the duke. He seems to have taken it well."

"They were very close. He seems to be taking it well but I think there is something more under it all."

He smiled. He liked Daguerre which was why he had such a high standing and influence over the prince. The old duke was a brave man and a good one and was certainly a man who could be trusted.

"Where are your men now?"

"I waited bringing them over the hills until we had a position for them."

"A good move. How many?"

"As the sands of the sea my friend." Daguerre said with humour. "Eighty one thousand men with me or a day's march away."

Anárion had been walking back to the interior of the room but stopped in surprise. "You said fifty at the most." He said in amazement.

"I did not want to get your hopes up by overestimating our army."

"One hundred and twenty seven thousand men fit for battle. A field army of seventy five thousand then?"

"So I guess lord prince. It is far better than I thought. Eighteen divisions of troops."

"This is excellent news. I will talk with the others but I think we can assume we can safely guard the river all the way to Cair Andros and down to the sea."

"Even so we must rely on word from Arnor and for news of an alliance between the king and the Eldar."

"We can fight on our own if need be." Anárion said with a little too much force. Daguerre smiled, he liked the prince but sometimes he was a little too like his brother. Daguerre knew of the family problem and was surprised that Anárion did not suffer from it or if he did, he was very good at hiding it.

"I know lord prince. So, how is your wife?" He asked and Anárion laughed and his odd mood vanished.

"She is well. I have precious little time to see her but I think I can go as soon as all our men are in place."

"Did you want a meeting at noon?" Daguerre asked, looking at the sun to judge the time.

"I did. Shall we be going in?"

"Of course lord prince. I saw young Coridius had an elf with him before, what was that about?"

"Five of them volunteered to fight. Three of them are alive now and the duke was presumably talking to him about what they were going to do know."

"Volunteered, eh?" Daguerre asked with a laugh. "I don't suppose they could get ten thousand of their friends together could they?"

A messenger materialised in front of them with a message which Anárion took. The man withdrew quickly. Anárion closed the door and looked at the message and then showed it to Daguerre. He whistled softly. Someone had taken great care to protect it from damp and it took a knife the old duke kept on him for such problems to open it.

"It is signed by my brother and my father. And the High King of the elves if I read the inscription right." He opened it and Daguerre stepped away so as not to intrude. He looked up to see the prince staring at him with shock. The prince opened his mouth but nothing would come out. Daguerre frowned but the prince waved the paper at him and the Archduke took it. He read it swiftly and his mouth fell slightly.

"By the sunken realm." Daguerre said distantly. "He has done it."

He handed the paper back and Anárion looked at it and sighed. "It is all we could have hoped for Antonine. It is news we must share with the council."

"Indeed. Let us get inside for the meeting."

"Yes. Suddenly this day seems a lot brighter." Daguerre said and offered a silent word of thanks to his father who was long dead.

Coridius knocked on the door and heard the request to enter. Pushing back his hair he pushed his way in. Daguerre and Anárion were drawing up plans on a piece of paper with a charcoal pencil. The duke and the prince nodded as the younger man entered.

"Come in Coridius. I knew you would not be late. We have excellent news that you will approve of."

"What news lord prince?" Coridius asked and Daguerre smiled.

"Just a half hour ago we received a message. It was signed by Prince Isildur, King Elendil and High King Gil-Galad. Can you guess what it is?"

Coridius dared not breath in case he was dreaming. "An alliance." He said.

"Yes. A formal signed alliance. It will be ratified on the first day of the new year. It pledges the two kingdoms not only to our aid militarily but financially as well. It is perfect. The High King himself has added in person that he pledges anything his kingdom has towards the common goal." Coridius took the letter and nodded slowly as he read through it.

"It says that regular shipments will be coming by land and sea. Food, weapons, resources." The duke sighed. He looked at the two men and shrugged. "I thought it would never happen." Coridius looked at Anárion. "I knew in my heart that both kings would see the need but whether they would be able to convince their nobles was another matter."

"What of you Nantaris?" Daguerre said and sighed when he saw the younger man straighten.

"I will stay here until word from the king arrives. Then I will do as he wishes."

"It would be good if you could stay. You troops now have experience and they could help our men train."

"I will do all I can." He stopped and smiled. "For the alliance." He said dramatically.

"It does grow on you." Daguerre said thoughtfully.

The door opened and a grey haired man entered like he was the lord of this palace. Daguerre stood like an arrogant noble.

"You timing has not improved shoveller. You are late."

Armarius glared at him. "If I remember correctly, it was not I who shirked the battle by marching around in circles for months." Armarius declaimed.

"And did you use that sword? I think not, a whipped child could be a more fearsome opponent than you."

"A clever man uses his brains and sends those idiots with the swords to their doom." Armarius countered grandly.

"You are not only late but you also have also shown no respect to me." He paused. "Or the prince. Where is thy salute?" He asked and the engineer smirked as he bowed only to Coridius and Anárion.

"I only salute those I trust. Any you, you I wouldn't trust with a sack of meal."

Anárion could not keep from laughing as the exchange continued. The two men stood just a yard apart. Then with a burst of energy, the two embraced like brothers and pulled back.

"Good to see you, you old pirate." Daguerre said.

"The same to you, you rogue."

Anárion held up his hand and smiled at the scene before him. Nobody liked to miss their reunions which were usually a sparring match with words as weapons. "Please my friends. There is time later. We have a meeting. And very important news. Armarius, did you see the others?"

"They were coming when I saw them but who knows where they are now. Levan probably got into a fight with Provinde and the less said about Artirimar the better." He said. He liked the scholar but he was half serious about the other two though.

The door opened and proved his conclusion. Levan was trying to get his view across in the face of opposition from Provinde whose manner suggested he was being especially obstinate today. Artirimar entered last and the three saluted the prince.

The prince waved them to their chairs and smiled.

"Welcome my friends. We have vital news as well as the known good news that Daguerre and Provinde has arrived."

"And that's good?" Armarius said doubtfully and the Archduke flashed him a glare.

"Anyway." Anárion said, trying to stop a smile. "I have received news that a formal alliance between my father the king and the high elves has been made. It will be ratified on the first day of the new year. It pledges all kingdoms to provide aid of any kind to the other members and states the possibility of forming an allegiance with the sylvan elves and the dwarves."
Artirimar sighed and nodded at the good news. Levan nodded briefly whilst Provinde seemed almost annoyed by this turn of events. Anárion ignored him and smiled.

"Now we can safely hold this river with the knowledge that not only supplies but also troops will eventually come."

Provinde seemed to swallow his objections and nodded.

"Well now we have the army fully assembled we can decide on the command and commanders. Duke Coridius of course has eighteen thousand men total that are fit, adding the division that did not fight. He has them under his direct command. He will be with my headquarters with my reserve division and the guard. Levan, as senior commander, you have nine divisions from your lands. Provinde, you have seven divisions from Rhovan and such areas. Artirimar, you have the six divisions that fought in the battle. You are army reserve, third corps. Levan is first and Provinde is second corps. Daguerre is of course in overall command, with me."

"I have left five more divisions in reserve at your home city lord prince and more to guard the Gap of Calenardhon."

"Excellent Daguerre. Gentlemen, this meeting was called for the reason of addressing that issue and now the news of the alliance has come, that as well. I will bid you a good day, catch up with friends and comrades. We begin work tomorrow." Anárion said and the commanders stood, happy and full of pride. Coridius thanked Malimar for what he had done, only now could they fight and win this war. The alliance, a worthy cause and the plains of Gondor would soon collide in the greatest war in three millennia. Coridius stared out to the east and smiled. "You did not fall in vain my friend." He said and then was gone, into the city that was now his home.

Author's Notes – The First Battle of Osgiliath

When this story was originally written, this was my first battle that I wrote. Fortunately, the one here is infinitely better than it's predecessor which was a mess. The original introduced some uninspired characters who I had no desire to use again so they were replaced and the battle was moved away from a break-out to the plains before the high road. The ambush on the old road is based on a similar occurrence at Brawner's Farm in the American Civil War just before Second Manassas. There, union troops marched along the road, within twenty yards of the confederates before the latter attacked. Unlike that assault though, this was a victory for the attackers. I suppose the orcs did not have the Iron Brigade of Wisconsin and Indiana to help them!

As one of the last full chapters I wrote, I had the advantage of knowing how the story would end and could add details accordingly. I realised at the end of the story that I had done every battle strategy except the most obvious one, the central breakthrough. I am much happier with this battle and I hope the reader is as well. It allows me to introduce my Gondorian commanders who I have a particular liking for. Serenarth appears briefly, mentioned once and I should have fought the urge to put it in but I could not help it. So she appears now as a precursor to her role later. I also finally establish the numbers of troops in the Gondorian army which is a reasonable size compared with the area, population density etc.

Why are there elves in this chapter? That is a question I do not know the answer to. They just appeared while I was typing and it seemed such a good idea to bring them in. I mean Coridius was at the Pass of Morinath so they are here. It also allows me to introduce Serenarth a little earlier than I had expected although she does not say a word yet, not yet.

I have read many stories about the last alliance but not one has mentioned a single word about the practicalities of such an alliance. Money, where do they get the money? How do the kingdoms survive? The most important question of course is how many troops there are in the armies. I hope to answer these to the best of my ability.

So ends the first great battle of the war, now we head back to the north for quite a while longer. Cue dramatic scene!