Chapter 13
"I think," Gimli's voice said from the darkness, "that there is a light ahead. But it is not daylight. It is red. What can it be?"
"Ghash!" Gandalf said. "I wonder if that is what they meant: that the lower levels are on fire? Still, we can only go on."
On they went. Soon Rhian could see the silhouettes of those in front her, outlined in flickering scarlet light from somewhere in the corridor ahead. The air grew ever hotter as they descended the steeply sloped passageway, to the arch of a low door whence the light came. Beyond, somewhere, was the Bridge, and a stair, and the First Hall, and beyond that daylight. Doomdoomdoomdoomdoomdoom The stone vibrated with the drumbeats, shaking Rhian's bones, and horn blows and orc cries echoed off the pillars of the Second Hall.
"Now for the last race!" said Gandalf. "After me!"
They ran.
The fire heating the air and casting red shadows came from bright flames that curled upwards from a wide crevice, cutting across the chamber floor. The orcs were cut off, but arrows clattered against the floor, sending up splinters of stone. Rhian felt the breath of one against her cheek even as another passed narrowly over Frodo's head. Ahead, farther than she liked, a dark chasm yawned, the floor of the hall ending abruptly. The Bridge, looking disturbingly like a single slender thread, spanned the unknown depths. As they ran the arrows fell ever faster, one piercing Gandalf's hat and sticking there. If she hadn't been underground, surrounded by fire and orcs and fleeing for her life, Rhian would have laughed until she cried.
And then sudden pain burned through her shoulder, as though she had been stabbed with a heated poker. She screamed- somehow she lost track of her feet and struck the ground hard, the tough fabric of her breeches tearing, along with the skin of her knees. Blood was soaking swiftly down the right side of her tunic, and her unwounded arm, the left, was tangled in her cloak. "Rhian!" Erin's voice was screaming in her ear, as she struggled to fight her way through the fog of pain. "There's no time, Erin, go on!" Boromir didn't call Erin by her name. But as she pushed herself up to her knees somehow, she saw the man shove her sister forward, to where Gandalf marshaled their fellowship at the entrance to the Bridge. Then he turned back to her, and before she could protest he simply picked her up- doomdoomdoomdoomdoom, ever louder, ever closer, and no time to staunch to wound- her nostrils filled with the smell of her own blood, and her hand was sticky with it as she clutched ay Boromir's cloak and he ran with her for the Bridge of Khazad-Dum.
Gimli was already on the bridge, Merry and Pippin close behind him. Rhian looked back, over Boromir's shoulder. Black shapes swarmed beyond the fire, armed with evil looking spears and scimitars. The fire made the blades red as blood. DOOMDOOMDOOMDOOMDOOMDOOMDOOMDOOMDOOM! She heard Legolas' voice, somewhere through the red haze filling her mind, somewhere ahead. "A Balrog! A Balrog is come!" The great black shape, wreathed in flame and smoke, bearing a blade of fire and a whip of many thongs. Terror. Doom.
"Durin's Bane!"
"Over the bridge!" Gandalf's voice echoed. "Fly! This is a foe beyond any of you. I must hold the narrow way. Fly!"
At the far end of the bridge, Boromir let Rhian down to the ground- Erin was there in a moment, pressing a pad of cloth ripped from her tunic against the place where the black arrowhead protruded from Rhian's shoulder. Rhian saw beyond her sister what passed upon the bridge.
Gandalf stood alone in the middle of the bridge, leaning on his staff with his left hand. In his right, Glamdring gleamed, cold and white. Boromir and Aragorn stood with swords drawn at the end of the bridge, unwilling to leave Gandalf to face his enemy alone.
The Balrog reached the bridge. The shadows were not caused by its flame, but part of it, spreading like foul wings. It cracked its whip, the thongs cracking the air like gunshots. Fire came from its nostrils. Gandalf didn't move.
"You cannot pass." Silence was everywhere, and no move was made by any, even the orcs. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass."
There was no answer from the enemy. Its terrible shadow spread furthur, stretching out, and it set its foot upon the bridge. Rhian's shouder throbbed- shudders were passing through her now until her whole body shook. Her lips were parted, and she breathed in harsh, gasping sobs. Hot tears streaked her face. Moria. That name gives me a really bad feeling. There was a horrible memory rising up from the blank pages of a red leather book. No, oh no...Gandalf looked small, so terribly small and old and bent before the dark malice of the Balrog.
Glamdring glittered white and shattered the blade of fire.
"You cannot pass!"
Suddenly Aragorn let out a shout and jumped forward but Gandalf lifted his staff and struck the bridge at his feet, crying out. The staff broke. White flame rose up, blinding.
The Bridge of Khazad-Dum cracked.
At the Balrog's feet, the stone broke, and it crashed downward with a terrible cry. But as it fell it swung its last weapon, and the whip wrapped around the wizard's knees, dragging him down and away, over the edge of the shattered stone. "NO!" Rhian struggled up against her sister's hands. "No," she whispered.
Gandalf's gnarled hands clutched at the stone.
"Fly, you fools!"
There was darkness. The last of the bridge, where it protruded like a tongue of stone above the chasm, was crumbling even as Aragorn and Boromir leaped the last of the way to solid ground. Sobs heaved in and out of Rhian's breast, and Erin, kneeling beside her, clutching her hand, was shuddering and weeping. Dumb shock and horror covered the company the stood at the brink of the chasm of Khazad-Dum. Aragorn's voice roused them from their stupor. "Come! I will lead you now! We must obey his last command. Follow me."
Rhian would reflect later that if she hadn't already known he was a king, she would have felt it in his voice then. Boromir gathered her up into his arms again, but she was numb and barely noticed, other than to catch hold of his cloak again and cling to his shoulders as he staggered up the great stairs beyond. Ahead Aragorn led, and she saw for the first time that Aria was wounded too, a small bundle caught up against Legolas' shoulder.
They ran on, weeping as they ran, and the drumbeats rolled slow and mournful behind. Doom. Doom. Doom. Light before them, from great shafts piercing the roof. Into a hall, bright with daylight from great eastward windows. Erin's eyes stung with new light and tears. They fled on, through the great broken doors, and then the Great Gates opened in an arch of blazing light. An orc guard blocked their way only for a moment and was knocked aside. Rhian was born out, into the sunshine, and down the huge steps, worn with age.
The Fellowship passed over the threshold of Moria, and wind dried the tears on their cheeks and turned them cold.
On through the Dimrill Dale they went, surrounded by the shadow of the Misty Mountains, but with golden sunshine in the east. Back, beyond Boromir's shoulder, Rhian saw the black doorway of the Gates amidst the mountain shadow. Faint and far away rolled drumbeats. Doom. Black smoke trailed thinly on the wind, up and away. The world around them was empty, and as Boromir set her upon the ground Rhian felt the grief rising through them all, and they mourned, each in his own way.
Doom. Doom. Doom...the last of the drumbeats faded into silence.
"I think," Gimli's voice said from the darkness, "that there is a light ahead. But it is not daylight. It is red. What can it be?"
"Ghash!" Gandalf said. "I wonder if that is what they meant: that the lower levels are on fire? Still, we can only go on."
On they went. Soon Rhian could see the silhouettes of those in front her, outlined in flickering scarlet light from somewhere in the corridor ahead. The air grew ever hotter as they descended the steeply sloped passageway, to the arch of a low door whence the light came. Beyond, somewhere, was the Bridge, and a stair, and the First Hall, and beyond that daylight. Doomdoomdoomdoomdoomdoom The stone vibrated with the drumbeats, shaking Rhian's bones, and horn blows and orc cries echoed off the pillars of the Second Hall.
"Now for the last race!" said Gandalf. "After me!"
They ran.
The fire heating the air and casting red shadows came from bright flames that curled upwards from a wide crevice, cutting across the chamber floor. The orcs were cut off, but arrows clattered against the floor, sending up splinters of stone. Rhian felt the breath of one against her cheek even as another passed narrowly over Frodo's head. Ahead, farther than she liked, a dark chasm yawned, the floor of the hall ending abruptly. The Bridge, looking disturbingly like a single slender thread, spanned the unknown depths. As they ran the arrows fell ever faster, one piercing Gandalf's hat and sticking there. If she hadn't been underground, surrounded by fire and orcs and fleeing for her life, Rhian would have laughed until she cried.
And then sudden pain burned through her shoulder, as though she had been stabbed with a heated poker. She screamed- somehow she lost track of her feet and struck the ground hard, the tough fabric of her breeches tearing, along with the skin of her knees. Blood was soaking swiftly down the right side of her tunic, and her unwounded arm, the left, was tangled in her cloak. "Rhian!" Erin's voice was screaming in her ear, as she struggled to fight her way through the fog of pain. "There's no time, Erin, go on!" Boromir didn't call Erin by her name. But as she pushed herself up to her knees somehow, she saw the man shove her sister forward, to where Gandalf marshaled their fellowship at the entrance to the Bridge. Then he turned back to her, and before she could protest he simply picked her up- doomdoomdoomdoomdoom, ever louder, ever closer, and no time to staunch to wound- her nostrils filled with the smell of her own blood, and her hand was sticky with it as she clutched ay Boromir's cloak and he ran with her for the Bridge of Khazad-Dum.
Gimli was already on the bridge, Merry and Pippin close behind him. Rhian looked back, over Boromir's shoulder. Black shapes swarmed beyond the fire, armed with evil looking spears and scimitars. The fire made the blades red as blood. DOOMDOOMDOOMDOOMDOOMDOOMDOOMDOOMDOOM! She heard Legolas' voice, somewhere through the red haze filling her mind, somewhere ahead. "A Balrog! A Balrog is come!" The great black shape, wreathed in flame and smoke, bearing a blade of fire and a whip of many thongs. Terror. Doom.
"Durin's Bane!"
"Over the bridge!" Gandalf's voice echoed. "Fly! This is a foe beyond any of you. I must hold the narrow way. Fly!"
At the far end of the bridge, Boromir let Rhian down to the ground- Erin was there in a moment, pressing a pad of cloth ripped from her tunic against the place where the black arrowhead protruded from Rhian's shoulder. Rhian saw beyond her sister what passed upon the bridge.
Gandalf stood alone in the middle of the bridge, leaning on his staff with his left hand. In his right, Glamdring gleamed, cold and white. Boromir and Aragorn stood with swords drawn at the end of the bridge, unwilling to leave Gandalf to face his enemy alone.
The Balrog reached the bridge. The shadows were not caused by its flame, but part of it, spreading like foul wings. It cracked its whip, the thongs cracking the air like gunshots. Fire came from its nostrils. Gandalf didn't move.
"You cannot pass." Silence was everywhere, and no move was made by any, even the orcs. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass."
There was no answer from the enemy. Its terrible shadow spread furthur, stretching out, and it set its foot upon the bridge. Rhian's shouder throbbed- shudders were passing through her now until her whole body shook. Her lips were parted, and she breathed in harsh, gasping sobs. Hot tears streaked her face. Moria. That name gives me a really bad feeling. There was a horrible memory rising up from the blank pages of a red leather book. No, oh no...Gandalf looked small, so terribly small and old and bent before the dark malice of the Balrog.
Glamdring glittered white and shattered the blade of fire.
"You cannot pass!"
Suddenly Aragorn let out a shout and jumped forward but Gandalf lifted his staff and struck the bridge at his feet, crying out. The staff broke. White flame rose up, blinding.
The Bridge of Khazad-Dum cracked.
At the Balrog's feet, the stone broke, and it crashed downward with a terrible cry. But as it fell it swung its last weapon, and the whip wrapped around the wizard's knees, dragging him down and away, over the edge of the shattered stone. "NO!" Rhian struggled up against her sister's hands. "No," she whispered.
Gandalf's gnarled hands clutched at the stone.
"Fly, you fools!"
There was darkness. The last of the bridge, where it protruded like a tongue of stone above the chasm, was crumbling even as Aragorn and Boromir leaped the last of the way to solid ground. Sobs heaved in and out of Rhian's breast, and Erin, kneeling beside her, clutching her hand, was shuddering and weeping. Dumb shock and horror covered the company the stood at the brink of the chasm of Khazad-Dum. Aragorn's voice roused them from their stupor. "Come! I will lead you now! We must obey his last command. Follow me."
Rhian would reflect later that if she hadn't already known he was a king, she would have felt it in his voice then. Boromir gathered her up into his arms again, but she was numb and barely noticed, other than to catch hold of his cloak again and cling to his shoulders as he staggered up the great stairs beyond. Ahead Aragorn led, and she saw for the first time that Aria was wounded too, a small bundle caught up against Legolas' shoulder.
They ran on, weeping as they ran, and the drumbeats rolled slow and mournful behind. Doom. Doom. Doom. Light before them, from great shafts piercing the roof. Into a hall, bright with daylight from great eastward windows. Erin's eyes stung with new light and tears. They fled on, through the great broken doors, and then the Great Gates opened in an arch of blazing light. An orc guard blocked their way only for a moment and was knocked aside. Rhian was born out, into the sunshine, and down the huge steps, worn with age.
The Fellowship passed over the threshold of Moria, and wind dried the tears on their cheeks and turned them cold.
On through the Dimrill Dale they went, surrounded by the shadow of the Misty Mountains, but with golden sunshine in the east. Back, beyond Boromir's shoulder, Rhian saw the black doorway of the Gates amidst the mountain shadow. Faint and far away rolled drumbeats. Doom. Black smoke trailed thinly on the wind, up and away. The world around them was empty, and as Boromir set her upon the ground Rhian felt the grief rising through them all, and they mourned, each in his own way.
Doom. Doom. Doom...the last of the drumbeats faded into silence.