A/N: Thank you to Shakespeare for letting me use an adaptation of part of his poem, St. Crispin's Day.
Ragnarok, for those of you who don't know, is taken from Norse legend and is the name given to the battle between the gods and the giants, which is supposed to bring about the death of the gods and the end of the world.
Appropriately enough, the name Garm comes from Nordic Legend, as well, and was the name of the watchdog of Hell.
There is a snippet of a poem, Doom of Odin, and comes from the Book of Heroes.
be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death,
so that when their time comes they weep and pray
for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way.
Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.
-Chief Tecumseh
Shawnee-
Chapter 42
The Battle
Ragnarok - Part 2
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The two armies sat motionless and silent, each taking the measure of the other and firmly implanting in their minds who they would be facing over the course of the next few hours. On the side of the Wainriders, there were too few who had any respect for the rag-tag slaves who now stood before them, while the slaves believed with heart and mind that if they did not survive the day that at least they would die without the collar of servitude about their necks.
The slaves knew only too well whom it was they faced and there were too few that did not feel the gnawing pain of fear in the pit of their stomachs. Fortunately for them, and the opposite for their former masters, the fear they were feeling at that moment would serve to fuel their resolve - there could be no mightier motivation for resolve than the desire for dignity. Dignity would be theirs whether it be in this life - or the next.
Neither the Wainriders nor the Freedom Fighters who stood defiantly in front of them took notice of the dark storm clouds that seemed to be gathering specifically over the field of battle. Even if they had noticed, they would not have thought it odd, for the emotions and feelings were so heightened that the dark clouds overhead did not and could not seem out of place.
There was a certain amount of dissention and uncertainty among the ranks of the Captains of the Wainrider military for they had come prepared to meet a mighty army from Harad, but now found themselves faced with an entirely different enemy. However, one thing could be said with certainty and that was that the Chieftains wanted to know exactly what was going on. Every Chieftain on the battlefield spurred his horse into a gallop, then rode to where Garm was sitting, surrounded by his personal guards and looking just as puzzled as they were feeling.
One of the more prominent and respected of the Chieftains present on the field acted as spokesman for his peers.
"Garm?"
"Ithun."
"Garm, please tell me why we are not sitting in front of an army from Harad and why your slaves are in front of us and not safe inside their accommodations in Hoth?"
The Chieftain's horse circled nervously and it was a moment before the Chieftain could bring it under control so he could continue with his question.
"How did this happen … why did it happen, or for that matter, when did it happen? And please feel free to tell us along with the aforementioned information we wish for you to give us, just why these rebellious piles of refuse are armed from your own armories? Is this an indication of the kind of leadership we can expect from you in the future?"
It happened so swiftly that the Chieftain had no time to prepare himself. Without even looking at the man sitting on the horse standing next to his own, Garm's arm shot out and his hand closed tightly around the Chieftain's throat, dragging the man towards himself until he was almost on his own horse. Garm turned his head then, and fixed the Chieftain with a stare the Wainrider would later say felt as if the man was digging around in his soul. Garm had not spent years as Ostara's protégé for nothing, for he had just proven that he possessed the same predisposition for brutality as did the recently deceased High Chieftain.
"Question my leadership again, Ithun, and you will not live long enough to form your next thought. Do I make myself clear?"
Though almost purple in the face from lack of oxygen, the Chieftain still managed to nod his head. Garm shook his head in disgust and almost tossed the Chieftain back on his horse then turned his attention back to the field in front of him.
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On the side of the field where he sat next to Legolas sat on their horses, Aragorn nodded his head a couple of times then turned to the Prince.
"I think we are making a suitable impression on them, my friend, for our presence is already causing them to fight among themselves. Why don't we go and impress them further with our impeccable manners by saying hello and introducing ourselves?"
Together the two set their heels to their horses and galloped towards the grand banner of Hoth.
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Garm and the Chieftains that sat on their horses next to him, were watching not only the army in front of them but also the two approaching riders and as the two drew near the midpoint of the field, Garm turned his head toward the others.
"Rest assured that whether those before us are from Harad or from my kitchen staff - they are all capable of dying under a Wainrider sword. Now … it seems that they desire to say hello so I will ride out and see if I can get them to surrender to us before someone gets a hangnail."
The Chieftains chuckled quietly then watched as Garm and his Second rode towards the oncoming riders.
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Garm rode to a mid-point on the field, arriving at just about the same time as did Aragorn and Legolas. For a few moments the four beings just sat, quietly staring at each other then after Garm had spent some moments carefully studying Aragorn, he turned his attention to Legolas, and when he saw who he was, raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"You live, slave? Did the bitch live as well?"
Showing no excess of emotion whatsoever, it was Aragorn who replied and in the process, redirected Garm's attention back onto himself.
"My sister lives, Garm. Thank you for inquiring."
Garm frowned but did not reply as if he could not quite process just how a human could have an elf for a sister.
There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments and it was forever after unknown whether Garm had hoped to impress the two with either his army or by his own demeanor. During this time, the man's eyes kept moving back to Aragorn and he kept frowning, almost as if he was trying to remember if he had seen him somewhere before, and if so, where he had seen him. Finally, Aragorn decided to get things started.
"We have come to respectfully request that you renounce the condition of servitude in the city of Hoth and free those who have been unjustly used by Hoth and the Wainrider people. We ask that you promise never to take, buy or keep another slave, and we request that you grant the people who have been unjustly held, unconditional amnesty - give these people their freedom, Garm. Give us what we ask then turn your backs and walk away, for if you do, you will never see us again."
"And if I don't?"
Garm's face was expressionless yet showed just a hint of the steely determination that was common to the Dúnedain and not for the first time did Aragorn wonder what had turned the man away from his own people and towards such a dark and twisted path that he was presently on. He sighed.
"If you don't then the people you see before you will be forced to press their demands in a military fashion - they will raise up arms against you and will attempt to take from their oppressors what has been their due from the very beginning - their freedom and their dignity."
Garm laughed and looked at the man at his side who was laughing as well.
"You speak many words, boy, when the only words needed should be few and plainly spoken. You don't need to impress me - tell me plainly what you mean and what it is that you demand."
Aragorn leaned slightly in the man's direction.
"Then, sir, I will do as you request and speak fewer words and speak them plainly so that they can be understood by even such as you. What I mean is, if you don't free these people right now and forever more, then we will kick your sorry asses and go home as free beings regardless of your wishes. Now - was that plain enough for you?"
It was a moment or two before Garm could get his next words to come out of his mouth for he had not expected the younger man in front of him to stand up to him in the fashion that he had and had been momentarily rendered speechless.
"First - boy - you don't have what it takes to defeat me and second, the slaves behind you are my property and the only place they are going is either to the grave, or if they are really smart, back to their wonderful accommodations in Hoth. What do you have to say to that?"
Garm smiled, thinking that with his last statement he had put to rest the last of the young man's resolve. Aragorn then returned his smile.
"I have this to say to you, Dúnedan. The sun may very well have risen on the last day of your life."
With a nod both he and Legolas wheeled their horses and rode back the way they had come just as Garm and his Second did the same. On the way back to where the Captains sat, Aragorn was muttering to himself.
"What do you have to say to that?" He looked over at Legolas. "I wanted to ask him if perhaps his mother had dropped him on his head when he was a baby."
Legolas just smiled and shook his head.
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Seeing Aragorn and Legolas riding back in their direction, Rahan could make a good guess, just from the body language of the two that "negotiations" had gone about as badly as everyone had suspected they would. He shook his head sadly, for too many would die this day just to prove that all beings had the right to personal dignity. He knew, and could also say with certainty, that it would be a red day - and not just for the slaves. Rahan turned to the other three Guards.
"And the memory of this hour shall never go by, from this day to the ending of the world, but we in it shall be remembered; we few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; he that fought with us upon this field of death." He looked at his elves and gave a nod. "Just a poem I read once, long ago - luck in battle." Was all he said.
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As soon as he was again on his own side of the battlefield, Aragorn's Captains gathered around him, waiting for instructions.
"Captains one through four move out."
The plans for communication during battle among such a large number of people who had had so little time to prepare and train for the day was fairly simple. Each line consisted of a certain number of people with certain skills who looked to only one Captain for instructions. The Captains, in turn, looked to Aragorn and Legolas for instructions and had spent as much time as they could spare, training with the two on what to expect and how to command their particular line.
Now the respective Captains waved to their lines and immediately four rows of 175 men each, started marching forward - first line, spear; second line, archer; third line, spear; fourth line, archer. The first and third row of spearmen carried large body shields on their left arms while the second and third row carried no weapons. As in any major campaign, the duty of protecting the archers often fell to those who carried spears so the archers could focus their attention on the job at hand. The human archers had been trained to shoot and trust to their spearman partner to protect them.
At the other end of the field, Garm sat watching the organized advance of the lines.
"My Lord?"
Garm turned to one of his guards.
"Yes?"
"My, Lord, the second and fourth lines carry no weapons."
Garm nodded absently for his attention was once more turned to the advancing lines. He also was wondering why the second and fourth lines carried no weapons that he could see. It was indeed odd behavior and almost not worthy of mention, then Garm had to remind himself that in oddities are usually hidden the most dangerous of minds and schemes - he just couldn't figure out what that scheme was.
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Finally, not quite at the midpoint of the field, the four lines stopped. Garm finally tore his own attention away from the people in front of him and gave the signal to his own army. Immediately the great bass war drums began to beat - crying out the heartbeat of the Wainrider civilization - angry, defiant and meant to instill fear into the heart of any enemy close enough to hear the drums sing.
But rather than the expected fearful reaction, the deep bass voices of the drums were answered. 350 spears hit the ground on the off-beat of the drums as the long-dormant tribal nature of these humans was awakened, just as that same nature had been awakened in the first of their kind, back before civilization ever was, when territory and personal rights had been fought over for the very first time. Those natures, primal and fierce, wakened and a long forgotten battle cry burst forth from every throat on the battlefield, each word punctuated by the pounding of the spears on the ground.
"Do you not see what I see? Do you not hear death approaching?"
The cry was soon taken up by another voice and another until every Freedom Fighter was shouting the challenge and clashing spear and sword against shields or upon the ground.
To this beat of the drums and the answer of the challenge, four lines of 125 Wainrider archers each followed by 2 lines of 100 chariots each, began to move forward to face the Freedom Fighters. Each soldier was trained and experienced in battle, yet each one felt a certain measure of uncertainty when those in front of them did not turn and flee in the face of the stronger force but remained - defiant and determined.
Legolas turned to Aragorn.
"There is no time like the present, my brother."
Aragorn sighed deeply, for what was about to happen, good or bad, was going to affect them all and change all their lives. His first command, simply stated, consisted of one word.
"Volley."
"VOLLEY!" His herald cried out.
Immediately the 350 archers reached behind them with their left hands and tilted a previously hidden quiver full of arrows to one side so the arrows would be within reach of their hand while they bent over and picked up their bows that had been laying at their feet, put there the night before by the volunteers who had been setting up the field. The effect was dramatic for Hoth didn't move for a few breaths and in that time the first line of archers dropped to one knee, aiming straight while the second line of archers remained standing and adjusted their trajectory, demanding a greater distance from their bows. Both lines fired - with spectacular results. It was the Freedom Fighters that drew first blood.
Garm gave the command and his archers fired on the Freedom Fighters. Though some fell, the casualties were kept to a minimum when the spearmen fulfilled their duty by protecting the archers with their shields.
Between volleys, Aragorn's archers fired again. Legolas had trained them well and the archers were totally focused on the act of firing as quickly and as accurately as possible, trusting to their shieldmen for protection from return fire. They tuned out the cries of their own fallen as well as the cries of the dying Wainrider archers for determination and training had helped them become pretty fair archers for as one warrior had put it, they had not always been slaves.
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Seeming satisfied with how things were progressing, Aragorn turned to his herald.
"Torches."
Immediately seven torches were lit and handed to mounted riders. Not all horses will tolerate fire anywhere in their immediate area but after many trials as well as many horses running madly through the surrounding forest, seven horses had been found that were steady enough around fire to be able to be ridden by the torch bearers.
After the torches had been passed, each torch bearer then teamed up with Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir plus the four Thurin Tirith Guards who immediately galloped off with their partners to an area just in front of their archers and spearmen.
Seeing the seven approach, the line Captains called to their archers to stop shooting. After the avenue in front of them was clear, the seven looked at each other and nodded, non-verbally wishing each other luck, then taking an arrow from their quivers, they told their torch partners to stay on their right then began a charge across the field.
Each of the seven elves had a designated target and just before they came abreast of that target, and while keeping their eyes fixed on it, they reached to their right with an arrow after which the torchbearer lit it. Still keeping their eyes on their target, they fired … and all seven piles of oil soaked, compacted bundles of straw, in succession, immediately caught fire. The flames leaped into the air while billowing clouds of thick, black smoke rose and floated back towards the Wainrider army.
The resulting smoke safely hid the seven elves and the torchbearers until they had crossed the field and had turned back to where Aragorn waited beneath the plain white banner of the Freedom Fighters.
While the smoke made it difficult for the Hoth archers to find targets to shoot at, the same could not be said for the archers of their opponent. While keeping their eyes on targets that existed only in their minds, the Freedom Fighter archers listened to the commands of the Captains on the side of the field who were able to see and who now directed the shots. Not only did they tell their own smoke-blinded archers when to fire, they would also shout out "shields" when a volley from Hoth was on its way.
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From the sidelines, once more beside Aragorn, Legolas smiled.
"Providence smiles on us, Estel - the wind blows the smoke away from our warriors and back onto the enemy."
Aragorn smiled as he nodded.
"Aye, Legolas, I agree. Providence is indeed smiling and her green eyes are probably twinkling."
When Legolas looked back at him and raised a questioning eyebrow, all his friend did was wink.
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Garm gave the command and recalled his archers who would go to their swords and would then fall in with the other foot and mounted soldiers who had begun their advance. If things went as planned, these soldiers would be able to quickly decimate the opposing forces. He was not prepared for what happened next and it was only because he and his Captains were caught with their mouths hanging open that the event continued on without casualty.
Without warning 350 of the mounted soldiers spurred their horses into a run towards the other side of the field. As they rode they took long strips of white cloth from the pockets of their tunics and held them above their heads. Though his personal guards immediately surrounded him and drew their swords, Aragorn signaled for them to stand down.
"Estel?"
"They ride under a flag of truce, Legolas and I, for one will not fire on those who ride in this fashion. Since no weapon has been drawn I will give them their chance in the hopes that they have come for a good purpose. Let us hear what they have to say before we pass judgement on them."
Soon the mounted soldiers stopped on Aragorn's right, having done so for a good reason - they were soldiers and knew better than to stop in a position that blocked the commander's view of the field. One soldier rode forward and nodded his head respectfully.
"Sir, we come at the bequest of a friend to aid your cause in any way that suits your need."
"Does this friend of yours have a name?" Legolas asked while alertly watching for any aggressive move.
The soldier nodded his head and smiled.
"Yes, sir. He said you would probably ask this very question. When Captain Greyfell came to pick up his horse he told us that you could perhaps use the help of a few good men and so we have come to serve you in whatever way we are able for my men and I feel deeply about your cause. Not all of us were loyal to Ostara and few of us care much more for Garm. Just use us in what way best suits your needs for we are trained to fight from either horseback or on foot - it matters not."
Aragorn rode forward until he could grasp the other soldier's forearm.
"I accept your oath of service, Captain. Tell your men to tie their white cloths to their right arms. Go to the other horsemen and divide yourselves evenly among our lines and afterwards follow the directions of the Captains of the respective lines." He turned to Elladan and Elrohir. "Please ride back and tell all the Captains that the horsemen with the white armbands fight with us."
The Captain of the deserters was about to turn away when Aragorn stopped him.
"When it is your turn to take the field, avoid the exact middle for there are surprises there that you probably don't want to run into."
With another nod, the Captain turned and followed the twins, as did the rest of the mounted soldiers.
Shortly afterwards, Aragorn ordered the rest of his army to slowly advance up the field in an orderly progression.
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He had not yet returned his attention back to the battlefield when Legolas called for his attention.
"Estel. Look at this."
If people had not been dying and if the whole situation had not been so dire, Aragorn would probably have burst out laughing. Hoth's chariots were falling apart. There were loud popping noises then the singletrees, the long wooden bar that ran between each horse and which was supposed to be connected to the chariots, were coming apart and falling to the ground, freeing the horses and effectively neutering the chariots as an effective weapon. As Anayah had once said, "A chariot without horses is just a piece of wood on wheels."
Frightened by the loud popping noises as the singletrees broke free, the horses began to run amuck, careening to one side then the other, pulling the chariots by only the one strap, tipping them over, running them into other chariots as well as mounted and foot soldiers. When the horses would finally break free, leaving the overturned chariot where it had fallen, mounted soldiers would have to jump over it where it lay - not all were successful at the effort.
Aragorn and Legolas looked over at the four Thurin Tirith who were all looking back at him with wide-eyed and innocent looks on their faces.
"She put you up to this, didn't she?"
As a unit they all nodded their heads and Aragorn just smiled and turned his attention back to the field in front of him. The wheels of some of the remaining chariots were rolling over large rocks, tipping the chariots over, the horses of both mounted soldiers and chariots were stumbling in small hidden holes and would either careen into another animal or would break a leg and go down.
"Hm. That worked better than I thought it would." Aragorn shook his head. "My brothers are almost as scary as my sister is."
Legolas burst out laughing.
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Aragorn turned to the Thurin Tirith.
"Go see what you can do about the rest of the chariots, my friends."
With a nod the four big elves galloped their horses back onto the field. While most elves were normally very skillful horsemen, the Thurin Tirith went beyond that - way beyond that - especially for being such large elves.
Kicking their horses into a dead run, they would come up on a chariot then suddenly slip to the horse's side, often within touching distance of the ground. Then with their swords or long knives, they would slash at the strap - the only strap - that connected the horses to the chariots. After this was done, the Guard would raise themselves and as they pulled forward, would slap the near horse across the rump with the flat of their weapon, startling it into a panic.
There were times when it looked as if a riderless horse was coming abreast of a chariot. When the chariot driver would look at his archer, they often took their eyes off the approaching horse - an extremely bad mistake, for the elf hanging onto the other side would raise himself when he got into range and either shoot driver and/or archer or slash the strap on the chariot.
In this fashion, many of the remaining chariots were taken out. The battlefield, once so pristine and undisturbed, was beginning to look like a scarred remnant of some horrific disaster, for it was quickly becoming littered with the dead and dying as well as the broken bits and pieces of the weapons of war.
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Though many of the horses and riders were finding it difficult to navigate through a trap-ridden field with little visibility because of the black, oily smoke, the inevitable finally happened and some horses began making their way through. However, when they did make it into the open, they did not remain unmet.
"PIKES!" Lothur called from the side of the field.
Leaning over, the foot soldiers nearest the long, carefully sharpened poles, bent over, picked them up, and after bracing the bottom end against their foot waited. The first of the horses to come through the thick, black smoke, unable to see what was on the other side, impaled itself on one of the pikes. Many other horses and riders followed the first - and many fell, their riders being finished off by waiting swordsmen.
When the ground was littered with the dead and dying horses and men, the pikemen picked up their pikes and advanced until they were once more in the open field, then set themselves and waited for the next horses to come through the smoke. Though it would not take long for the mounted Hoth soldiers to learn to avoid what was on the other side of the smoke, the pikemen vowed that they would put their weapons to good use.
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It is often said that all good things must come to an end - and so it was on the present field. The fires from the bales of straw started to burn themselves out and the covering smoke began to drift away. On came the soldiers, now unimpeded, and soon the Freedom Fighters were finding themselves truly put to the test as sword finally met sword.
The twins decided to pull out their last "hindrance" and use it to try and cut the odds further. Many years before, even before Aragorn had become a part of their family; Gandalf had gifted each of them with a very special ring. Each ring had an especially insulated bubble in place of a stone and which had a small hole in the top. With a special word of enchantment that Gandalf taught them and which triggered the magic of the ring, a small flame grew inside the bubble until the small globe was filled with a magical fire that would burn until it was politely asked to extinguish itself.
Why they had thought to bring their rings on this trip, they could not say although both twins would later say that Gandalf probably had an influence in there somewhere, but for now the ring was put to good use. Filling a sack with exploding devices, each with a short attached fuse, the two galloped onto the field, then lighting the devices by placing the wicks through the opening in their rings, they threw the things into the milling Hoth soldiers. While a few soldiers and their horses were killed outright, the resulting chaos as spooked horses ran amuck, was just as effective of a weapon.
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Anayah had spent most of the morning sitting upright on her pallet with her eyes closed. As Greyfell watched, she would occasionally move her hand, almost as if she were gently waving. For the most part, he left her alone to do whatever it was that she was doing but when she started to get pale and began to sweat, he put a hand on her shoulder and brought her back from wherever it was that she had gone. When asked about what she had been doing, she had just smiled and said that she had just been trying to influence the wind - a simple elemental thing that Gandalf had taught her long ago.
The two of them had been feeling slight tremors in the sleeping cavern off and on all morning that couldn't be explained away as natural occurrences of the battle that was taking place on the field outside of Hoth. There was something else happening and it was disturbing them both. Finally, they both agreed that they would probably feel more at ease if they were somewhere else and were in the process of gathering their personal belongings when Elias walked into the cavern carrying his hackamore. At his feet walked the diminutive Cyrano, earnestly tugging on the tiny pack Súrion had made for him.
Anayah looked at the two then turned to Greyfell.
"Uh huh. When even the animals want to leave - who are we to argue?"
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When they finally left the cavern a short time later, Anayah carried Tinu on Elias while Cyrano and Irildë trotted between the tall stallion and Greyfell's mare. Their original thoughts had been to hide in the forest, close enough to the battlefield to be able to keep track of what was going but far enough away to be safe. When they finally found a spot to camp that suited their immediate needs, they could hear the clamor that came from the field but were not quite close enough to see the battle itself. It was the screams of the dying that disturbed Anayah and after some time of listening to both man and beast crying out in fear and pain, Anayah's resolve finally broke.
She was in tears when she finally stood from where she had been sitting with her hands over her ears and walked to where she had set her weapons. Without speaking a single word, she grabbed Huan's case and was gathering up several quivers of arrows when Greyfell finally took her arm.
"Anayah stop this - you know you can't go out there. Remember that you promised your brother - you gave your oath - that you would not step foot on the field of battle."
Anayah stopped for a moment and stood with her back to the elf. Finally, she took a deep breath and turned.
"And I will keep my promise, Greyfell." She patted Huan's case. "This is a Great Long Bow - capable of shooting long distances. I will not step foot on the battlefield but that doesn't mean I can't shoot from the edge of the forest."
Greyfell's mouth opened and closed as he desperately searched his mind for an argument - and found none. Without saying another word, he started taking quivers out of Anayah's hands.
"Well at least let me help you carry some of these."
Anayah smiled her thanks and turned away but before Greyfell followed, he grabbed her healer's pack off Elias's saddle, for he knew that shooting the bow would more than likely tear her wound wide open and he wanted to be prepared for that eventuality.
As they got closer to the edge of the forest, Anayah was walking backwards while she explained what she wanted to do and how he could help her. When she saw the expression on his face change, she instantly knew that there was somebody or something behind her and whirled. She screamed in fright and dropped the arm full of quivers she had been carrying then reacted just as any mature elf would have reacted if they had found themselves in the same circumstances - she drew back her foot and kicked the strange being in the shins. She stepped back with her hand over her madly beating heart then held up a hand to stop Greyfell who was walking forward, sword in hand.
"Stop, Greyfell. They mean us no harm - they just scared me half to death for I fear my nerves are quite raw at the moment."
The elf stopped but didn't relax his aggressive stance as he stood ready to defend his friend.
"What do you mean they mean us no harm? Just who are they?"
She smiled up at Greyfell.
"Don't worry. They are ..."
TBC
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NOTE: I sent someone's review to the wrong person. Tomorrow I will officially try and figure out who the person was but until I find out who you are - my most humble and grovelly apologies!
Morwen Pallanen, CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur, Karone Evertree, NanaHalfelven (): I am totally brain-fried so I will reply to all your wonderful reviews tomorrow when both eyeballs are officially exposed to daylight (aka when I wake up.).