Chapter 13
Mounted on Brego, Aragorn watched as the assembled army of seven-thousand made ready to march. He shifted in his light armour as he waited.
The Dúnadan was wearing a light chainmail, over which was a medium blue tabard with the White Tree stitched on the front. His mantle was faded black on top and dull maroon underneath.
Finally the army was ready, and they set out for the Black Gate.
~o~o~
Save for the small mound of rocks they had gathered around the plain of the Morannon was dry and arid. Dust flew up from the horses' hooves as Aragorn, Gandalf and Pippin, Éomer, and Imrahil rode towards the Gate.
"Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth!" Aragorn shouted. "Let justice be done upon him!"
They waited, and waited, and waited. Just as they turned to leave Aragorn heard the creak of hinges as the Black Gate opened.
A dark-robed figure on a black horse came out. Except for the tall iron helm, he wore nothing could be seen of his face — besides a mouth full of grotesquely pointed teeth.
"My Master bids thee welcome." He hissed in a low, gravelly voice. Looking at them he said, "Is there any in this rabble with the authority to treat with me?"
As he said that he locked eyes with Aragorn. The Dúnadan held his gaze until the Mouth stepped back a pace.
"We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed," Gandalf replied. "Begone!"
As strongly as Aragorn was tempted to strike the Messenger's head from his shoulders, he restrained himself…for it was then that the trap was sprung. The Gate opened, and Aragorn caught a glimpse of rank upon rank of orcs.
He cantered back-and-forth in front of the soldiers. "Hold your ground! Hold your ground!" He shouted above the war-cries of the orcs.
"Sons of Gondor — of Rohan! My brothers, I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me." Aragorn spoke to encourage and embolden them.
"A day may come," he stated, "when the courage of Men fails. When we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship."
He paused again and looked them in the eyes.
"But it is not this day," Aragorn declared. "An hour of wolves, and shattered shields, when the Age of Men comes crashing down…but it is not this day!
"This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!"
All drew their swords as Isildur's Heir turned to face the enemy — his sword raised in defiance.