Chapter 9
The Parting at Kapüal
Night. Darkness. Fear. The time when the sky turned black and caused everything around to fall under its dark spell. It was something no one nor nothing could overcome. The terrible time when fear came upon the land and everything had a mysterious silence to its being. Nothing moved nor stirred. Everything was still. That night, not even the quiet chirp of a small cricket was heard to the ear of one who passed. Everything was quiet. For everyone and everything was aware of the evil and danger that lingered in the dark. The evil that constantly searched the darkness for whom they awaited. They feared nothing and no one. They were the all-powerful creatures, that is, below their leader, he whose name was too great to be mentioned in any place or time. They walked slowly, stopping every so often to smell the moving air through their heavy masks that covered their faceless faces.
There was no fear kept behind those masks. Their senses were keen and aware. Although their eyesight was incapable of seeing objects, they could smell the presence of an ant. The one thing they were drawn to was no where to be found in the barren plain amongst the tall swaying grasses that seemed to topple over at any slight movement. But they, at that moment, were no searching for "it" but instead for "whom". They felt their presence and felt they were full of life-giving strength, but wanted them to be empty. The only thing contained with in them would be death. They would rot and do no good towards good and no good towards evil. They wanted them to be lifeless.
Gandalf awoke sharply at a late hour of evening. He had heard a noise, like those of a screeching hawk swooping down to catch its prey. But it was no flying creature, but yet a hunting one. They were hunting for two things at this moment in their everlasting lives, the companions, and the ring. He looked out upon the frivolous prairie but saw not even one of them in the night. Once in a long while the shimmering moon would cast a glimpse of sparkle on their black cloaks, but to him it was not a thing of beauty. It was ugly, hideous, and grotesque. Also, full of mystery and secret. At times, their fiery eyes would appear in the somber light sending a queer feeling down ones spine. A trickle of horror and panic tat would make the weak of heart and mind fall with fear.
Gandalf lit a candle and set it on a small rock in front of his tall body. Gently he pulled a stack of papers and manuscripts from his cloak. Slowly, one by one, he read each word carefully without delay, trying to comprehend what the great wizards of the past tried to make sense of. As the writing became more interesting, his eyes glanced faster and faster past the pages. Many were foolish, he thought, back when they knew not what kind of events were taking place around them. Some had predicted the future, but not as far ahead as today. They spoke of a great power, not in the form of man or beast, that would be used for evil and evil alone. Only the good could destroy it. Things they spoke of had been fulfilled as in the past, but had come again. The great ancestors did not speak of things, for their great and phenomenal minds could not search that far into the future of the world of men. Their words of knowledge could not help them now; nothing could.
At times, Gandalf feared, that loud scream came so close he would become face to face with the creature. It was times like these his internal fear came alive. He had defeated many horrifying beasts, but these were much stronger that him. But inside the cave of Rowem, no evil should pass. They were safe now, but not forever. They could not linger here so that the ring be found b its true master. They had to leave, but not during the evil hours of night. The only thing evil hated was light and beauty. They could not withstand the light, for it was a source of beauty. Beauty and love would be untied in the end, maybe. That is, if they reached and completed their final destination. If.
He tried to fall asleep many times after reading his share of passages from his crumpled manuscripts, but none of the times he succeeded. His weary eyes would not close and stay that way. He was too much in fear from what danger lingered out in the dark. At daybreak, he decided, we must leave at once. Still on their tracks far behind them, would be those lingering ones. Nevertheless, maybe, just maybe, he thought, they could lose them by escaping during the night. He waited for many minutes for the cease of the shriek as a sign of safety. Hey he would awake his friends. Nevertheless, he would not awake them unless he knew it was safe. He would sit, listening to the wailing wind for a scream to travel within it. However, it would fool him, for if it was silent for an hour, he knew they were not yet gone. Sure enough, a sharp squeal would pierce his ears.
Finally, after hours of waiting, not even a rustle of the grass could be heard. He stood slowly, his knees strong beneath him, and walked over to Sam. He slept curled in a fetal position, his legs tucked tightly to his chest. He slept soundly, for even if a violent storm were to come about and shake the earth till it fell beneath the surface, not even then would he awake. Gandalf knew that Sam could not learn the habits of this sleep. If danger came his way, he would not wake up, even to the loudest of noises.
Gandalf towered above his stout body and gently poked his left arm with the end of his staff. Sam stirred, his eyes blinding, trying to focus on his disturber. It was difficult, for the night was dark and no light shown upon his face. Gandalf lifted his staff and let it drop with a soft thud. A bright light was ignited from the top where a crystal was attached. Sam could then see him at once.
"You really are a disturber of the peace, Gandalf." He said yawning.
"Yes, well it is not for my good but yours. He said quieting his voice to a whisper once more.
Sam sat up and rubbed his weary eyes.
"What is it Gandalf?" He inquired.
"It is time to leave. The evil has quieted its movements and, as I suspect, has fled from this place. Now is the time."
"Are you sure of this Gandalf?" Sam said standing and walking over to the opening of the cave. He searched the open plain with his tired eyes. "Is it safe?" That was all his mind longed to know. He did not care what else came, as long as he was safe.
"Would my weary heart feel the need to lie to your ears? I would not feel any worse if I led you into a death trap at this moment." He said looking into the eyes of his old friend.
"No, Gandalf, you wouldn't." Sam replied. "We must wake the others. What a task that will be." A smile crept on his face and he trotted around the cave kicking each of them as he went. They all awoke suddenly and rubbed the sore spot where they had been attacked. By the time he reached Farill, he stopped. The floor was empty at the place where she had laid. Nothing was there that stated her belonging.
"She's gone." Sam informed them, looking over his shoulder. Gandalf turned towards him but said nothing. His eyes were wide and full of worry. They seemed to go numb in their sockets and he just waited.
Merry and Pippin looked at each other, then at Gandalf, waiting for an answer.
"What should we do?" Pippin asked Gandalf in a half-worried voice. Merry didn't say anything mostly because no thought of care entered his mind. This event worried him little.
"Stay here hobbits." Gandalf said grabbing his staff and journeying out the entrance of the cave. Merry looked at Pippin and they agreed on one thing.
"Let's go!" Pippin asserted grabbing his large knapsack and slinging it over his broad shoulder that landed upon his back. A lout clinging came from inside his sack and he stopped suddenly.
"My gosh Pip, will you shut up!" Merry said suddenly in a quiet whisper. Pippin stood there listening to the sounds of Gandalf outside searching for Farill.
"He must have not heard us." Pippin said turning around to them. "Come on!" He gathered himself to start out.
Merry followed behind pippin without delay but there were no footsteps that followed behind him.
"Sam are you coming?" he asked turning towards him. "I don't think we should, not without Gandalf anyway." He stood, worried with fear for his friends and himself.
"Come on Sam, we'll be safe. Don't worry." Pippin reassured him.
"You better be right." Sam said following them in the same matter.
As they stepped out into the night, the moon shown brightly on the dark, tall, rock mound. It glittered with delight as if it were being bathed in the dark light. The rustling grass often spooked them for they knew not what lingered out there. Yet, they were high upon a tall rock quarry. Nothing could attack them without their noticing. Not up here.
Pippin led the way; following the sounds from the wind. Merry followed Pippin and Sam followed Merry. Their footsteps were silent as they climbed the walls of the Mîle. As they got to the top, Pippin stopped. There on the edge of the Mîle was Farill. She was bent down with her ear pressed tightly against a rock that had been hurled aloft there. Merry ran over to her and stood behind her. Her eyes were closed and she sat there as if dead. Finally she stood as Pippin and Sam approached.
"They are still out there, for they have not yet returned to their evil fortress of the underworld." She said. "If we intend to leave, we must leave now.
"Where are they at?" Pippin asked. She looked out over the plain and as Sam noticed, her eyes glowed intently once again. They searched the grasses below but then stopped suddenly.
"There!" she pointed towards the North. A glimmer of cloth quickly flashed, then disappeared as fast as one could blink.
"About a fair lengths walk." Gandalf said, approaching behind them.
"What do you intend we do?" Farill asked Gandalf turning towards him. Her eyes died down as she lessened her gaze across the prairie, but yet they were filled with fire.
"We will leave." Gandalf told them earnestly, beckoning them towards the edge of the cliff. "Come, before they become aware of our leaving."
The three hobbits followed Gandalf quickly; their footsteps quiet without a sound. And behind them came Farill, but she was not again searching the plains. She had zoned back to their life and ran to the beginning of the line, next to the tall body of Gandalf.
They climbed down the rock quarry, quietly scampering past the black haunted caves. They were no longer filled with spirits that lashed out their evil forked tongues at their presence, but now they had fallen asleep. Nothing stirred within their beings and the hearts of Sam and Farill were calm once again.
When they got to the bottom, a sense of relief filled their hearts. Yet, they knew not why, for they were in more danger than before. No one said anything to one another. Once in a while, Pippin would sneeze, causing a riot amongst them. Any slight movement could trigger the sense of being to the ones they feared.
"Sam." Gandalf whispered to him from behind. They reached a tall elevation and the way up was difficult. By the time they were half way up the hill, their breath was gone. They no longer had the energy to do anything, but in their weary hearts, they knew the only thing they could do was keep going. One could, and would have turned back if they had been alone, but the helpful reassurance of their friends was great. Every so often, when a head would lower in despair, Farill would put her hand on their shoulder and tell them to keep going. That there journey would not lead to death, but life in a beautiful friendship. Every one of them hoped she was right.
As Sam heard his name, he trotted up towards the top of the hill. It was much greater that a hill though, more like a small mountain. He and Frodo hadn't come this way before and wondered why Gandalf had chose this path to lead them.
"Gandalf, this is not the way to Bree, it's the other direction." Sam pointed to his left.
"I know Sam. But it is out of pure curiosity that fate has led us this way. For the Nazgúl have minds and memories too, you know, and will remember the way in which you traveled before. They will track you down like bees searching for honey. And when that happens, there is no escape from them. It is far too dangerous."
They kept walking and suddenly the afternoon sun struck their eyes as they reached the brink of the mountain. Sam ran past Gandalf to the very edge where the mountain discontinued. He gasped as he looked over the edge. To eh south he could see the remains of Isengard, the tower standing in a dry wasteland, not any longer bearing water from the dam. The deep holes that were once infested by orcs remained but not as deep as before. Sand and silt and water filled its boundaries and great lakes formed within them.
He turned and looked to the east, the direction in which they were traveling, and there he saw the Misty Mountains far off in the distance. Their majesty was great and clouds formed at their snowy tips. A great silence and solitude filled the air in that direction towards the far off mountains. Mystery was filled in the caves and not even the bravest of elves, dwarfs, nor men would travel into certain parts of them. They were infested with evil beyond all telling and not all evil that lingered in the pits of the mountains was living. Many were dead and were just spirits; ghosts. They awaited no one for that was their solitary place of rest. Those who disturbed them would be killed or slit at the neck by the king of their kind. Many who had fled from this world, fled into the Misty Mountains, but were not fleeing from danger but welcoming it in a way. They came there to flee from the danger they encountered in their daily lives, but usually would have been better off if they had accepted the wrong they committed. For them, it would have been better if they were never born. For their lives could only end in death or destruction once they passed into the entrance of the mountains lair.
He looked into the distance, past Isengard and into the distance only a speck could be seen. He feared yet once again what his eyes tried to see. He saw it the same as he did five years ago. Orodruin exploded constantly sending great puffs of black smoke from its opening. Red and black were the only colors one could see in that place. That evil place. Mordor. He dreaded, almost feared this place, the place where their destiny lied. A thick mountain ring surrounded the boundary, but on the other side lay dust and ash. As the wind blew, great amounts of dirt were thrown into the air, causing one to suffocate. Everything was dead once again, just as before, as if a great shield were placed on top of it, causing no sunlight to shine there. And that was where they must go. That was where their journey would end.
Sam turned to Gandalf and saw his eyes searching the land that lay below.
"Where do we go now Gandalf?" Sam asked him as the others approached from behind.
"We will need more men to fight against the evils of Mordor, so we must find armies. This is where we part."
Sam turned to Gandalf and pippin stepped beside him.
"What do you mean?" Pippin questioned him, curiosity and fear in his voice. "You can't leave us Gandalf, you're our guide. How will we know which way to go?"
"You will be fine, my friends." Gandalf reassured them. "Just do what is right and listen to within yourselves. Remember that your final destination is Mordor. But you must now travel to the Adari Pass. It is a kingdom of dwarfs in the Misty Mountains. That is where I will meet you."
"Gandalf, if you say it will be all right, then I guess you know better than any of us." Merry told him, almost begging him to stay.
"Where will you go?" Farill asked him, accepting the knowledge to enter her brain.
"To fetch great armies and greet great kings." He turned towards the west and puckered his lips together. A loud whistle came from them. First high, then low, and from the distance a stallion galloped majestically across the plains. Its white mane dazzled in the sunlight and not a speck of dirt nor dust was kept within its hair. It neighed loudly to make Gandalf aware of his arrival
Farill turned sharply towards the west to see to whom Gandalf was calling. The light wind blew her dark, black hair and her dress waved in the wind behind her. She marveled at the horse and a smile crept upon her beautiful, pale face.
"It's a horse bred by the elves. What majesty it holds within its mane." Her words spoke to herself. As it approached, it slowed to a trot and went straight to Gandalf.
"Shadowfax." Sam said in awe.
"Yes, he has been my friend in danger, and has never failed me. Shadowfax." Gandalf said rubbing his mane. "You know were to go." He said mounting Shadowfax. He grasped his staff tightly in one hand and Shadowfax's mane in the other. "I will meet you there." With that said, he kicked the stallion sharply and shot off, the wind itself not able to keep up.
Farill and the hobbits watched as their guide rode off in the distance.
"Rohan." Sam said in a deep voice.
"What?" Pippin asked turning to his friend. "What are you talking about?"
"Gandalf is riding to Rohan, the great empire of horses." Sam replied to them pointing in the direction in which Gandalf had traveled.
"I feel alone. Like there in no one to guide us, for there is no one except you Farill. Do you know the way to this place?" Merry asked.
"I have heard of it, and know the way, but yet I have never took the path less traveled. My people, the Egmils, will help us. I can feel it."
"Then we must leave. What is the quickest way to the Adari Pass?" Sam asked her.
"The quickest way is to travel to Tharbad and from there, pass through the Mines of Moria. That route would take us to the land of the Egmil, where we could ask their assistance. If they agree, we will continue around Fangorn Forest and enter the Adari Pass. There we will meet Gandalf. But I must warn you, the quickest path is not always the safest."
"Although we have never passed through Tharbad, this road seems safe. Now that the Baldrog is destroyed, we will only have to get through the Mines unnoticed." Sam turned to Pippin and glared. Pippin hung his head in despair, embarrassed by his mistake from the past.
"That is true." Agreed Farill nodding her head nobly, her hair blew behind her. We must get started off. And ration your food, for it will not last long." She said warning them.
They followed behind her down the mountain as the sun was beginning to set. There on the side of the mountain was a small overhang made of rock. It faced the east and they seemed protected from the wind. That night they settled there and cooked minkworm over the fire. The sunset and crickets chirped out in the grasses below. It was becoming more and more peaceful outside in the setting light, and they all slept soundly under the stars.
((
The Parting at Kapüal
Night. Darkness. Fear. The time when the sky turned black and caused everything around to fall under its dark spell. It was something no one nor nothing could overcome. The terrible time when fear came upon the land and everything had a mysterious silence to its being. Nothing moved nor stirred. Everything was still. That night, not even the quiet chirp of a small cricket was heard to the ear of one who passed. Everything was quiet. For everyone and everything was aware of the evil and danger that lingered in the dark. The evil that constantly searched the darkness for whom they awaited. They feared nothing and no one. They were the all-powerful creatures, that is, below their leader, he whose name was too great to be mentioned in any place or time. They walked slowly, stopping every so often to smell the moving air through their heavy masks that covered their faceless faces.
There was no fear kept behind those masks. Their senses were keen and aware. Although their eyesight was incapable of seeing objects, they could smell the presence of an ant. The one thing they were drawn to was no where to be found in the barren plain amongst the tall swaying grasses that seemed to topple over at any slight movement. But they, at that moment, were no searching for "it" but instead for "whom". They felt their presence and felt they were full of life-giving strength, but wanted them to be empty. The only thing contained with in them would be death. They would rot and do no good towards good and no good towards evil. They wanted them to be lifeless.
Gandalf awoke sharply at a late hour of evening. He had heard a noise, like those of a screeching hawk swooping down to catch its prey. But it was no flying creature, but yet a hunting one. They were hunting for two things at this moment in their everlasting lives, the companions, and the ring. He looked out upon the frivolous prairie but saw not even one of them in the night. Once in a long while the shimmering moon would cast a glimpse of sparkle on their black cloaks, but to him it was not a thing of beauty. It was ugly, hideous, and grotesque. Also, full of mystery and secret. At times, their fiery eyes would appear in the somber light sending a queer feeling down ones spine. A trickle of horror and panic tat would make the weak of heart and mind fall with fear.
Gandalf lit a candle and set it on a small rock in front of his tall body. Gently he pulled a stack of papers and manuscripts from his cloak. Slowly, one by one, he read each word carefully without delay, trying to comprehend what the great wizards of the past tried to make sense of. As the writing became more interesting, his eyes glanced faster and faster past the pages. Many were foolish, he thought, back when they knew not what kind of events were taking place around them. Some had predicted the future, but not as far ahead as today. They spoke of a great power, not in the form of man or beast, that would be used for evil and evil alone. Only the good could destroy it. Things they spoke of had been fulfilled as in the past, but had come again. The great ancestors did not speak of things, for their great and phenomenal minds could not search that far into the future of the world of men. Their words of knowledge could not help them now; nothing could.
At times, Gandalf feared, that loud scream came so close he would become face to face with the creature. It was times like these his internal fear came alive. He had defeated many horrifying beasts, but these were much stronger that him. But inside the cave of Rowem, no evil should pass. They were safe now, but not forever. They could not linger here so that the ring be found b its true master. They had to leave, but not during the evil hours of night. The only thing evil hated was light and beauty. They could not withstand the light, for it was a source of beauty. Beauty and love would be untied in the end, maybe. That is, if they reached and completed their final destination. If.
He tried to fall asleep many times after reading his share of passages from his crumpled manuscripts, but none of the times he succeeded. His weary eyes would not close and stay that way. He was too much in fear from what danger lingered out in the dark. At daybreak, he decided, we must leave at once. Still on their tracks far behind them, would be those lingering ones. Nevertheless, maybe, just maybe, he thought, they could lose them by escaping during the night. He waited for many minutes for the cease of the shriek as a sign of safety. Hey he would awake his friends. Nevertheless, he would not awake them unless he knew it was safe. He would sit, listening to the wailing wind for a scream to travel within it. However, it would fool him, for if it was silent for an hour, he knew they were not yet gone. Sure enough, a sharp squeal would pierce his ears.
Finally, after hours of waiting, not even a rustle of the grass could be heard. He stood slowly, his knees strong beneath him, and walked over to Sam. He slept curled in a fetal position, his legs tucked tightly to his chest. He slept soundly, for even if a violent storm were to come about and shake the earth till it fell beneath the surface, not even then would he awake. Gandalf knew that Sam could not learn the habits of this sleep. If danger came his way, he would not wake up, even to the loudest of noises.
Gandalf towered above his stout body and gently poked his left arm with the end of his staff. Sam stirred, his eyes blinding, trying to focus on his disturber. It was difficult, for the night was dark and no light shown upon his face. Gandalf lifted his staff and let it drop with a soft thud. A bright light was ignited from the top where a crystal was attached. Sam could then see him at once.
"You really are a disturber of the peace, Gandalf." He said yawning.
"Yes, well it is not for my good but yours. He said quieting his voice to a whisper once more.
Sam sat up and rubbed his weary eyes.
"What is it Gandalf?" He inquired.
"It is time to leave. The evil has quieted its movements and, as I suspect, has fled from this place. Now is the time."
"Are you sure of this Gandalf?" Sam said standing and walking over to the opening of the cave. He searched the open plain with his tired eyes. "Is it safe?" That was all his mind longed to know. He did not care what else came, as long as he was safe.
"Would my weary heart feel the need to lie to your ears? I would not feel any worse if I led you into a death trap at this moment." He said looking into the eyes of his old friend.
"No, Gandalf, you wouldn't." Sam replied. "We must wake the others. What a task that will be." A smile crept on his face and he trotted around the cave kicking each of them as he went. They all awoke suddenly and rubbed the sore spot where they had been attacked. By the time he reached Farill, he stopped. The floor was empty at the place where she had laid. Nothing was there that stated her belonging.
"She's gone." Sam informed them, looking over his shoulder. Gandalf turned towards him but said nothing. His eyes were wide and full of worry. They seemed to go numb in their sockets and he just waited.
Merry and Pippin looked at each other, then at Gandalf, waiting for an answer.
"What should we do?" Pippin asked Gandalf in a half-worried voice. Merry didn't say anything mostly because no thought of care entered his mind. This event worried him little.
"Stay here hobbits." Gandalf said grabbing his staff and journeying out the entrance of the cave. Merry looked at Pippin and they agreed on one thing.
"Let's go!" Pippin asserted grabbing his large knapsack and slinging it over his broad shoulder that landed upon his back. A lout clinging came from inside his sack and he stopped suddenly.
"My gosh Pip, will you shut up!" Merry said suddenly in a quiet whisper. Pippin stood there listening to the sounds of Gandalf outside searching for Farill.
"He must have not heard us." Pippin said turning around to them. "Come on!" He gathered himself to start out.
Merry followed behind pippin without delay but there were no footsteps that followed behind him.
"Sam are you coming?" he asked turning towards him. "I don't think we should, not without Gandalf anyway." He stood, worried with fear for his friends and himself.
"Come on Sam, we'll be safe. Don't worry." Pippin reassured him.
"You better be right." Sam said following them in the same matter.
As they stepped out into the night, the moon shown brightly on the dark, tall, rock mound. It glittered with delight as if it were being bathed in the dark light. The rustling grass often spooked them for they knew not what lingered out there. Yet, they were high upon a tall rock quarry. Nothing could attack them without their noticing. Not up here.
Pippin led the way; following the sounds from the wind. Merry followed Pippin and Sam followed Merry. Their footsteps were silent as they climbed the walls of the Mîle. As they got to the top, Pippin stopped. There on the edge of the Mîle was Farill. She was bent down with her ear pressed tightly against a rock that had been hurled aloft there. Merry ran over to her and stood behind her. Her eyes were closed and she sat there as if dead. Finally she stood as Pippin and Sam approached.
"They are still out there, for they have not yet returned to their evil fortress of the underworld." She said. "If we intend to leave, we must leave now.
"Where are they at?" Pippin asked. She looked out over the plain and as Sam noticed, her eyes glowed intently once again. They searched the grasses below but then stopped suddenly.
"There!" she pointed towards the North. A glimmer of cloth quickly flashed, then disappeared as fast as one could blink.
"About a fair lengths walk." Gandalf said, approaching behind them.
"What do you intend we do?" Farill asked Gandalf turning towards him. Her eyes died down as she lessened her gaze across the prairie, but yet they were filled with fire.
"We will leave." Gandalf told them earnestly, beckoning them towards the edge of the cliff. "Come, before they become aware of our leaving."
The three hobbits followed Gandalf quickly; their footsteps quiet without a sound. And behind them came Farill, but she was not again searching the plains. She had zoned back to their life and ran to the beginning of the line, next to the tall body of Gandalf.
They climbed down the rock quarry, quietly scampering past the black haunted caves. They were no longer filled with spirits that lashed out their evil forked tongues at their presence, but now they had fallen asleep. Nothing stirred within their beings and the hearts of Sam and Farill were calm once again.
When they got to the bottom, a sense of relief filled their hearts. Yet, they knew not why, for they were in more danger than before. No one said anything to one another. Once in a while, Pippin would sneeze, causing a riot amongst them. Any slight movement could trigger the sense of being to the ones they feared.
"Sam." Gandalf whispered to him from behind. They reached a tall elevation and the way up was difficult. By the time they were half way up the hill, their breath was gone. They no longer had the energy to do anything, but in their weary hearts, they knew the only thing they could do was keep going. One could, and would have turned back if they had been alone, but the helpful reassurance of their friends was great. Every so often, when a head would lower in despair, Farill would put her hand on their shoulder and tell them to keep going. That there journey would not lead to death, but life in a beautiful friendship. Every one of them hoped she was right.
As Sam heard his name, he trotted up towards the top of the hill. It was much greater that a hill though, more like a small mountain. He and Frodo hadn't come this way before and wondered why Gandalf had chose this path to lead them.
"Gandalf, this is not the way to Bree, it's the other direction." Sam pointed to his left.
"I know Sam. But it is out of pure curiosity that fate has led us this way. For the Nazgúl have minds and memories too, you know, and will remember the way in which you traveled before. They will track you down like bees searching for honey. And when that happens, there is no escape from them. It is far too dangerous."
They kept walking and suddenly the afternoon sun struck their eyes as they reached the brink of the mountain. Sam ran past Gandalf to the very edge where the mountain discontinued. He gasped as he looked over the edge. To eh south he could see the remains of Isengard, the tower standing in a dry wasteland, not any longer bearing water from the dam. The deep holes that were once infested by orcs remained but not as deep as before. Sand and silt and water filled its boundaries and great lakes formed within them.
He turned and looked to the east, the direction in which they were traveling, and there he saw the Misty Mountains far off in the distance. Their majesty was great and clouds formed at their snowy tips. A great silence and solitude filled the air in that direction towards the far off mountains. Mystery was filled in the caves and not even the bravest of elves, dwarfs, nor men would travel into certain parts of them. They were infested with evil beyond all telling and not all evil that lingered in the pits of the mountains was living. Many were dead and were just spirits; ghosts. They awaited no one for that was their solitary place of rest. Those who disturbed them would be killed or slit at the neck by the king of their kind. Many who had fled from this world, fled into the Misty Mountains, but were not fleeing from danger but welcoming it in a way. They came there to flee from the danger they encountered in their daily lives, but usually would have been better off if they had accepted the wrong they committed. For them, it would have been better if they were never born. For their lives could only end in death or destruction once they passed into the entrance of the mountains lair.
He looked into the distance, past Isengard and into the distance only a speck could be seen. He feared yet once again what his eyes tried to see. He saw it the same as he did five years ago. Orodruin exploded constantly sending great puffs of black smoke from its opening. Red and black were the only colors one could see in that place. That evil place. Mordor. He dreaded, almost feared this place, the place where their destiny lied. A thick mountain ring surrounded the boundary, but on the other side lay dust and ash. As the wind blew, great amounts of dirt were thrown into the air, causing one to suffocate. Everything was dead once again, just as before, as if a great shield were placed on top of it, causing no sunlight to shine there. And that was where they must go. That was where their journey would end.
Sam turned to Gandalf and saw his eyes searching the land that lay below.
"Where do we go now Gandalf?" Sam asked him as the others approached from behind.
"We will need more men to fight against the evils of Mordor, so we must find armies. This is where we part."
Sam turned to Gandalf and pippin stepped beside him.
"What do you mean?" Pippin questioned him, curiosity and fear in his voice. "You can't leave us Gandalf, you're our guide. How will we know which way to go?"
"You will be fine, my friends." Gandalf reassured them. "Just do what is right and listen to within yourselves. Remember that your final destination is Mordor. But you must now travel to the Adari Pass. It is a kingdom of dwarfs in the Misty Mountains. That is where I will meet you."
"Gandalf, if you say it will be all right, then I guess you know better than any of us." Merry told him, almost begging him to stay.
"Where will you go?" Farill asked him, accepting the knowledge to enter her brain.
"To fetch great armies and greet great kings." He turned towards the west and puckered his lips together. A loud whistle came from them. First high, then low, and from the distance a stallion galloped majestically across the plains. Its white mane dazzled in the sunlight and not a speck of dirt nor dust was kept within its hair. It neighed loudly to make Gandalf aware of his arrival
Farill turned sharply towards the west to see to whom Gandalf was calling. The light wind blew her dark, black hair and her dress waved in the wind behind her. She marveled at the horse and a smile crept upon her beautiful, pale face.
"It's a horse bred by the elves. What majesty it holds within its mane." Her words spoke to herself. As it approached, it slowed to a trot and went straight to Gandalf.
"Shadowfax." Sam said in awe.
"Yes, he has been my friend in danger, and has never failed me. Shadowfax." Gandalf said rubbing his mane. "You know were to go." He said mounting Shadowfax. He grasped his staff tightly in one hand and Shadowfax's mane in the other. "I will meet you there." With that said, he kicked the stallion sharply and shot off, the wind itself not able to keep up.
Farill and the hobbits watched as their guide rode off in the distance.
"Rohan." Sam said in a deep voice.
"What?" Pippin asked turning to his friend. "What are you talking about?"
"Gandalf is riding to Rohan, the great empire of horses." Sam replied to them pointing in the direction in which Gandalf had traveled.
"I feel alone. Like there in no one to guide us, for there is no one except you Farill. Do you know the way to this place?" Merry asked.
"I have heard of it, and know the way, but yet I have never took the path less traveled. My people, the Egmils, will help us. I can feel it."
"Then we must leave. What is the quickest way to the Adari Pass?" Sam asked her.
"The quickest way is to travel to Tharbad and from there, pass through the Mines of Moria. That route would take us to the land of the Egmil, where we could ask their assistance. If they agree, we will continue around Fangorn Forest and enter the Adari Pass. There we will meet Gandalf. But I must warn you, the quickest path is not always the safest."
"Although we have never passed through Tharbad, this road seems safe. Now that the Baldrog is destroyed, we will only have to get through the Mines unnoticed." Sam turned to Pippin and glared. Pippin hung his head in despair, embarrassed by his mistake from the past.
"That is true." Agreed Farill nodding her head nobly, her hair blew behind her. We must get started off. And ration your food, for it will not last long." She said warning them.
They followed behind her down the mountain as the sun was beginning to set. There on the side of the mountain was a small overhang made of rock. It faced the east and they seemed protected from the wind. That night they settled there and cooked minkworm over the fire. The sunset and crickets chirped out in the grasses below. It was becoming more and more peaceful outside in the setting light, and they all slept soundly under the stars.
((
