IV.) East of Anduin
At the crossroads of Ithilien, before the marble statue of Isildur that marked that ancient place of meeting, and beneath a stand of youthful pine trees whose bowers swung gently in the mountain winds, the three Wizards prepared to say their farewells.
Ten years had it been since their arrival at Minas Anor. Long had they studied there, deciphering many ancient scrolls and books of Numenor that could no longer be understood by the Gondor-men, and learning all they could from more recent records of the lands and peoples of Middle Earth. They had left behind certain marginal notes and commentaries on the scrolls and records for the edification of the Gondor-men, thus fulfilling their promise to King Ciryandil that they would offer samples of their own lore in exchange for access to Gondor's archives.
When Curunir had deemed the time to be right, they set loose their Elven-steeds to find their own way along the high road back to Mithlond – for Cirdan had requested that they not bring their steeds East of Anduin, but allow them to return to their Elven homeland when the time had come to venture into the East. Accepting Ciryandil's gift from the Royal Stables at Osgiliath of a white stallion for Curunir, and brown stallions for the Blue Wizards, as well as a good store of water and provision for their saddle bags, they had crossed the bridge over the Anduin to the city's Eastern Gate.
The Wizards had reached the Eastern Gate in the small hours of a cool spring morning, the Moon and stars shining clear and bright in the heavens above, and they were keen to begin their journey now that they had at last resolved upon it. But the guards at the Gate had not permitted them to leave the city until dawn, for the Eastern Gate of Osgiliath was always shut and barred between the hours of sunset and sunrise, though in these days more out of tradition than fear of any real threat.
The Wizards had decided to humour the guards' decree, rather than bend the guards' wills to their own, and so waited patiently for almost an hour, until the Eastern sky glowed first pale, then rosy with the light of the rising Sun. The guards then shot back the bolts with heavy clangs, the great bronze doors swung open on their hinges, and the Wizards rode forth over the stone-flagged road through the land of Ithilien.
They had passed many fields and farms, their occupants stirring drowsily at the first light of day, until after some miles the land began to slope upwards. Then they left behind the thickly-settled farmlands of the Lower Vale of Anduin for the fragrant, pine-forested foothills of the Mountains of Shadow, whose jagged pinnacles of dull black rock loomed ever closer as they rode eastward, like giant talons clawing at the sky. The pine woods themselves were deep and dark, all the more so in the morning, when the Sun was still low in the East, and the mountains cast their vast shadows for many miles into the West.
Now that they had reached the Crossroads, they each sat on their mounts, facing each other, and making ready to depart on their separate ways.
"You are both sure of your paths for many miles ahead?" asked Curunir, his long face veiled in shadow beneath his peaked hat.
"I am journeying northward up this road," said Pallando, gesturing to his left, "until it turns sharply to the right at the wastes of the Daglorlad, and goes east past the Morannon. Then I will follow it for many long leagues, skirting the foothills of the Ash Mountains, and following it as it turns north and east. Then in time, I will come upon the land of Dorwinion by the western shores of the Sea of Rhun. There the reach of Gondor comes to an end. I shall have to decide at that point where next my path will take me, so that I may best approach the wild Rhunlings who live beyond the farther, eastern shores."
"Very good," said Curunir. "And you, Alatar?"
"I turn south upon the road," replied Alatar, gesturing to his right, "over the hills of Emyn Arnen, past the Crossings of Poros and Harnen, and so at last to Umbar, which marks the southern marches of Gondor. There I will learn what more I can of the paths that snake their way through the vast, empty deserts of Near Harad, so that I might find my way to the jungles of Far Harad, and begin my mission amongst the Men of that distant land."
"Correct," said Curunir. "I myself shall continue eastward upon this road, through the flowery Ithil Vale, and so at last to the fortress of Minas Ithil, that was Isildur's dwelling place of old. Then I will journey east from there over the Nameless Pass, and scour the land of Mordor for signs and portents of the Enemy, until at last I shall exit through Carach Angren. I may then head north, far north, for you will recall I had agreed that in time I would meet with Mithrandir and Aiwendil somewhere among the eaves of the Greenwood, and so receive their reports of what news they have discovered during their own journeys. No doubt I shall have to make contact with the Elves of the Greenwood first, to learn rumour of the whereabouts of our kindred in those lands. But that journey itself may be many years off, for the Black Land is vast, and it will be long before I can satisfy myself that the Shadow has not yet begun to manifest itself there – if indeed it has not."
"I do not envy your path through the Black Land, Curunir," said Alatar. "But you are fortunate that at least you shall soon come to Minas Ithil, and there can dwell in comfort for a time amongst the Gondor Men. Pallando and I shall have some days of riding, north or south, through these empty forests, before our roads bring us again into settled lands."
"Indeed," smiled Pallando, "I daresay a down mattress in Minas Ithil will be more comfortable than a mattress of pine needles, with a tree root in one's back to trouble one's sleep."
"Do not be too envious," chided Curunir. "I go not to Minas Ithil on holiday. In part, my purpose is to learn more of the Black Land from a garrison nigh to its frontiers, before I cross its borders. Yet Minas Ithil itself is of concern to me, and I would first satisfy myself regarding it."
"How is that fortress of concern?" asked Pallando, puzzled by Curunir's words.
"Perhaps I delved more deeply than you into those scrolls of Minas Anor which concerned the Enemy and his wiles and devices," replied Curunir. "But I have inferred many things about the Enemy's Black Art, and the powers it may confer on those who are initiated into its secrets. Both of you are aware that Minas Ithil was for twelve years occupied by the Ringwraiths, during the war of the Last Alliance?"
"Aye, that is well known," said Alatar. "Minas Morgul, the Tower of Dark Sorcery, it was called at that time."
"Then suffice to say," continued Curunir, "that I am uneasy as to what sorcery the Ringwraiths may have worked during their time there, brief as it was. I cannot believe that they would have fled Minas Ithil without leaving behind some lingering trace of their evil. Such a trace might be invisible to mortal eyes, which can only see by light of Sun or Moon, or by torchlight. But I may be able to sense things in that tower that are beyond mortal ken. It may well be that a geas or hex was left on Minas Ithil, lying dormant, but waiting only a command in the Black Speech to awaken and bring doom upon the garrison. If so, then Minas Ithil is in truth the weakest link in Gondor's defences, and the Gondor-men should know of it."
"Those are grim thoughts, Curunir," said Alatar. "Yet your guesses may prove correct. And your words are a reminder to Pallando and myself never to underestimate the wiles of the Enemy. He may have left other traces of his dark presence, in the lands of the Easterlings and Southrons, which were long under his sway. We must be cautious, that we are not ourselves ensared."
"Indeed we must," frowned Pallando.
"Well then, my friends," said Curunir. "The Sun is beginning to shine amongst the branches, and already it must be past the fifth hour since sunrise. Noon will be upon us before long. Let us say farewell, and then depart our separate ways. It may be long indeed before we see each other again; yet in time, if I can afford to set other tasks aside, I may journey into the far East and South myself, and so learn what progress you have made amongst the wild Men of those lands."
"Farewell," replied the Blue Wizards. "We hope we shall not disappoint you."
"And we should maintain contact with each other, Pallando, through we be separated by many miles" said Alatar. "For our minds and powers are bound together to some degree, and our challenges are similar. We may be able to learn from our trials and errors, each from the other."
"I was about to suggest the same thing myself," replied Pallando. "Indeed we shall coordinate our efforts. Farewell!"
And with that, the Wizards turned their backs on each other and departed their separate ways; Pallando along the North Road, Alatar along the South, and Curunir to the East.