In An Age Before

by Phantom Bard

Part 298 posted, in which Helluin and the Riders of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý aid the Third Marshal Haleth in Rohan's defeat of the Easterling invaders. Brutal weather, disease, and failing morale play a part. Aldburg is no sooner freed of the eastern threat when tidings come of the Dunlending's invasion from the west. OCs galore as usual.

192. In An Age Before Chapter 192

In An Age Before - Part 192

Author's Note: I have completed the set up of my new computer and returned to writing updates for "In An Age Before". I regret the delay and apologize again for the delayed update.

Dawn came to the lands west of the Weather Hills on 22 Gwirith, and whilst Knight Commander Hírochon led the cavalries of Arthedain, Gondor, Rhovanion, and Lindon to the Emyn Uial, Helluin and Barq greeted Anor as Arien carried that last flower of Laurelin o'er central Eriador. The Easterling horse found a tuft of new grass to crop for his breakfast. Helluin unwrapped an uninspiring hunk of waybread that she chewed with little enthusiasm whilst surveying the landscape. It seemed the wolf had been as good as his word, for the pack had moved far off during the last hours of the previous night and she could sense 'naught of them.

And so I deem we return to Amon Sûl this day, Barq asked as he chewed a mouthful of grass, the stems dangling past his lips jerking up and down as his jaw worked. Helluin found it a bit odd, hearing his words in her mind whilst his mouth was full and otherwise occupied.

"Just so," she replied after swallowing a pasty mouthful of bread. "I wonder how far the Host of Angmar came this night past and how soon they shall threaten Lindon."

Were I to be condemned to dragging a ram 'cross country, I wager I would be spending most of my time mired in mud. I deem they have made but poor mileage, but who am I to say? Perhaps the Witch King employs some fell conjuring to harden the landscape.

"Huh. I had not considered that he would traverse the backcountry roads, having assumed that he would take the king's road south from Fornost to the crossroads, and then the West Road through Sûza, which was indeed my fear," Helluin said. After a few moments' thought, she said, "I suppose he might choose either route, for he cares not if any mark his march on the paved roads, yet perhaps he begrudges the added mileage and time those roads would demand."

Barq nodded and continued chewing. Helluin swigged some water to wash down the waybread. Finally, after some continued rumination on the choices of the Ringwraith's route and reaching no decision, she sighed and packed away her rations.

"Come, let us be on our way, O Barq," she said.

The Easterling horse gave her a nod of assent and stood ready for her to mount, though Helluin marked that he snatched up another mouthful of grass as she approached. Shortly, they were on their way south, keeping just west of the outlying margin of the Weather Hills. She allowed Barq his head and he set an easy pace alternating canter and trot through the morn. They saw 'naught of wolves, Men, Elves, or enemies. 'Round noon, having come some thirty miles, Helluin noted that Barq was veering towards the foothills. Curious, she stayed him not and soon found that he had come to a small rivulet running down from higher ground. There he stopped and drank. Helluin hefted her water skin, found it had grown light, and dismounted.

"A good notion, to break for water," she said.

It smelled inviting for some time now, and after breakfast and the morning's run, I felt thirst, he said. After drinking a while longer, he added, the waters a few miles back smelt o'erly hard, salty in fact. 'Tis some taint picked up in the hills, I wager.

Helluin tasted the water from a cupped hand and agreed that it was pure and tasty indeed. She dumped the old contents from her water skin and refilled it with fresh water from the small stream. A glance uphill revealed a saddle of bedrock from which the rivulet flowed, bordered by higher hills of lighter, softer rock.

The King's Alchemists might have mentioned the niter deposits in the Weather Hills, from which Dúnedain settlers in mid-Arnor and the native Men of Central Eriador had long obtained a meat preservative for their sausages. Curumo and Olórin might have recognized the white, crystalline crusts sometimes found in caves or sheltered spots on the hills as a chief component of some very dangerous compounds they had been forbidden to produce on the Mortal Shores. In this, both would ultimately fail.

After resting the third part of an hour, Helluin and Barq continued on their way south, and in the third hour past noon, arrived at the East Road. Ten minutes later, they mounted the climbing track to the summit of Amon Sûl. The guards at the foot of the causeway waved them onto the ascending road and they took the switchbacks straightaway. Ere the fourth hour past noon, they greeted the lords Elrond and Glorfindel in the ruins of the Watchtower.

"Mae govannen, my lords," Helluin said, offering a dip of her head. "I return from the northwest in haste and with tidings."

Both Elrond and Glorfindel greeted her warmly and seemed eager to hearken. Both had risen from their chairs at her entry. Of course they had been aware of her approach to Weathertop long ere she had arrived.

"Pray share thy rede then, meldis nín," the Peredhel said, gesturing her to a seat. Glorfindel poured a glass of wine and slid it 'cross the desk to her, and she accepted it gratefully.

After sipping of the wine and finding it quite refreshing, Helluin offered the words of the wolf.

"'Tis reported by witnesses that the entire Host of Angmar marched from Fornost on the night of 20 Gwirith."

Her words were met with the grim stares of anxieties confirmed. Ere they could besiege her with questions, Helluin continued.

"Yrch, Hillmen, and Easterlings have vacated the king's city, no doubt with Tor to haul the ram that broke the gates. From that, I deem their goal is Lindon, for only there stand gates requiring such an engine of war."

"The Witch King marches on the Grey Havens just as we reckoned aforetime," Elrond said after some moments of silence. "'Tis just a shock to hear it confirmed at last."

Glorfindel nodded in agreement and asked, "whence came thy tidings, Helluin?"

"As aforetime, thou hast heard from the Laiquendi, I wager," Elrond guessed.

"Nay, my lords," she answered with a shake of her head. "These tidings came from watchers of another kindred, no less wide-ranging and little less feared."

The two ellyn looked at her expectantly and Helluin groaned.

"Pray look into my eyes, mellyn nín, and I shall share with ye what came to pass yesternight."

Both nodded for her to precede, the Lord Elrond with somewhat greater unease. O'er the desk they stared into Helluin's eyes and their consciousnesses were subsumed in her memories. They saw what she had seen upon the night darkened fields west of the Weather Hills.

Elrond and Glorfindel felt the slow plodding rhythm of the horse moving 'neath her and the slight breeze whispering in her face as she rode north. All 'round lay a softly rolling landscape, restful and dim, lit only by Ithil and Varda's stars. Then they felt her attention sharpen as from the north she marked the approach of a group of kelvar. Soon enough these came into sight from upwind, loping o'er the rises with effortless strides. 'Twas a pack of wolves.

They felt her lay a hand on her horse's neck and rouse him from his doze. He came to a halt and then froze at the sight of the wolf pack, his natural enemies. Helluin calmed him and surrounded them both with a dim ríl of Light that brought the pack to a halt. They marked the lack of fear in both parties and then heard the conversation 'twixt them clearly.

Well met this night, O Hound of Angmar. Whither hast thou come and whence art thou bound?

We serve none save the nature the One bequeathed us, having abandoned the dark spirit of Angmar. Much did he promise but little did he deliver, then winter approached. We had 'naught to gain by passing that time confined amidst starving Men and Yrch. Now we are free!

Thou came from the north. Know thou 'aught of what passes in Fornost?

Aye, we came from the north where the hunting has been good. T'would seem that many fawns survived the lack of human hunters the past year, but I digress. The entire sorry lot marched from Fornost yesternight, hauling that ridiculous ram 'cross country. We deem that war is soon to come and 'twas no place for us to linger. Now we go south, as far away as possible. I bid thee spurn the north for a time.

My thanks for thy tidings, grey hunter. I bid thee be ware 'nigh Amon Sûl. Many Elves tarry there.

I thank thee for thy tidings, bright one. We shall pass to the west. Be well.

The vision ended as Helluin and Barq watched the wolf pack loping off to the south. Helluin blinked, severing the connection. Elrond and Glorfindel sat silent, digesting the words of the wolf.

"I have had little contact with wolves since Beleriand," Glorfindel finally said, "and these seem quite different in bearing."

"I had thought the same," Helluin agreed. "They have rejected service to Angmar and now revel in their freedom, living the lives of predators and thankful for their place in the Song."

"I felt no lie in his eyes and so must accept his tidings, strange though the source might be," Elrond finally said. After some moments' thought, he added, "I shall have to remember to make a note that at least these wolves believe themselves created by the One and not by Morgoth, as some have come to believe."

"Morgoth had no hand save in their perversion as werewolves," Helluin said with certainty. "In the far north of Aman I met wolves during my explorations. They shied from me at first, but later deigned to converse with me on occasion. T'would seem they were 'neath a prohibition to hunt not any that went upon two legs."

At this, Elrond and Glorfindel both raised their brows in question. Glorfindel had lived in the Blessed Realm 'nigh as long as Helluin and had met no wolves there, whilst Elrond had been born in Beleriand and now yearned to record 'aught that he heard.

At their questioning looks, Helluin said, "T'wasn't just hounds, horses, and Eagles that abode in the Undying Lands. Well 'nigh all the kindreds that inhabit Middle Earth also abode in Aman, and many more that have no counterparts on the Mortal Shores. All such are diminished on this side of the Sea, yet their kinship is unmistakable. So too with the olvar, save perhaps the Onodrim and their wives. They were…unexpected."

Glorfindel nodded in acceptance of her words.

"I was born and raised in Tirion, and save for trips to Valmar for celebrations, spent little time wandering Valinor," he admitted.

After some moments of reflection, Elrond brightened, and with a smile told Helluin, "I have some work recently completed for thee."

Now at her questioning look, he said, "When first we arrived at Amon Sûl, thou had come into the possession of a Númenórean bow. As per thy request, it hath been shortened to five feet whilst preserving its draw weight. A quiver has been fabricated to hold the arrows shafted with the heads thou supplied. 'Tis a fearsome weapon, Helluin. May it serve thee well."

The Lord of Imladris went to a chest and withdrew from it the steel bow wrapped in an oil cloth. He also hefted the quiver filled with arrows and a bundle of replacements, four dozens all told. These he presented to Helluin with a flourish and she accepted them with great thanks. The bow was now akin in size to the bows of the Rangers, but with o'er double their power.

The two ellyn watched as Helluin strung the bow and then held it, flexing her fingers and rotating her wrist, getting the feel of the grip ere she drew the string back to her cheek and held it for a count of ten to appraise the weight. Then she slowly let off the tension, feeling for any unevenness in the flexing of the limbs. When she was done, a broad smile of approval shaped her lips. She unstrung the bow and shouldered the quiver. The leather was black and matched her armor. She could not have been happier.

"Pray convey my sincerest thanks to thy craftsmen, Lord Elrond, and great thanks to thee as well for arranging the work," she told her friend. "I have not held so fine a bow since Mt. Doom."

Now thereafter they commenced the planning for their response to Angmar's coming assault on the Havens of Mithlond. There were many possible courses of action, and it seemed that each had much to recommend it. Greatly did the Lord of Imladris desire to strike against the Witch King, for Elrond still felt shame at being unable to bring aid to King Arvedui a year past. The Lord Glorfindel and the other knights resented having been blockaded within the Hidden Valley for a year, waiting deedless whilst Arthedain fell. Some recalled similar feelings in an Age before, when they had remained in their newly founded refuge as the armies of Gil-galad and Ciryatur drove Sauron and the Glamhoth from Eriador.

"We must make a stroke against the Ringwraith on behalf of Arthedain," Elrond said, "and we have our own suffering to redress; 'nigh seventy-five knights lost at our first attempt to ride to Fornost and later in the purging of foes from the road."

Glorfindel and the other knights gathered there nodded in agreement.

"Bitter shall be our meeting with Angmar," the Lord of Gondolin's House of the Golden Flower declared.

"We have both advantages and constraints," Helluin offered. "The Witch King knows not that we have ridden from Imladris, nor that we are now so close, yet we are but four hundreds, and where we could not break a blockade of six thousands, how then to meaningfully assail a host of twenty to thirty thousands?"

That question gave them pause. It seemed that only as part of a greater battle plan reinforcing numerous allies could the knights of Imladris exact significant damage on their enemy. Finally, Elrond sighed. 'Twas apparent to him that further tidings of the combatants and the battlefield were necessary if his knights were to assist in defeating the Host of Angmar. He shook his head.

"Too little do we know of how the forces of Angmar and Lindon stand," he admitted, "of their positions and their counts. We know not even whither to ride to join the battle."

"We know that two nights past they departed Fornost," Helluin said, "and that they sought to transport their ram. The wolf said that they all marched, not rode, therefore I deem they advance afoot as an infantry force only.

In choosing their route, two choices lay before the Witch King. Either to take the North Road south to the crossroads, and then the West Road through Sûza to the Far Downs, the Emyn Beraid, and finally the Gulf of Lhûn. Or, he may have chosen to go 'cross country on back roads for a more direct route east of the Emyn Uial. Both choices have advantages to recommend them. Being an infantry host, Tindomul might have valued more highly the shortening of the mileage that going cross country offers, whilst seeing the advantage of paved roads as a boon mostly to cavalry. The wolf claimed they were, hauling that ridiculous ram 'cross country."

Elrond and Glorfindel nodded in agreement with her analysis, not even seeming to mark that 'twas mostly based upon the testimony of the wolf.

"Had I not the encumbrance of the ram, I should choose the cross country route for an infantry host. T'would save 'nigh a hundred miles' march. With the ram, I deem the road a necessity," Helluin said, "howe'er, my horse has his doubts, as did the wolf."

By this point, neither lord thought hearing the opinion of a beast ludicrous.

"What says thy horse, meldis nín?" Glorfindel asked, completely serious.

"Barq said thus to me this morn. Were I to be condemned to dragging a ram 'cross country, I wager I would be spending most of my time mired in mud. I deem they have made but poor mileage, but who am I to say? Perhaps the Witch King employs some fell conjuring to harden the landscape," Helluin reported.

"So then either he hath taken the North Road south and made perhaps fifty miles, leaving his host halfway to the crossroads, or he hath gone cross country as the wolf claimed, and come far less," Glorfindel said.

After a moment's thought, Helluin nodded in agreement.

"He could reach the crossroads ere dawn of the 24th, or perhaps he shall come to Baranduin this night and seek a crossing," Helluin guessed. "'Tis four score and ten from Amon Sûl to the crossroads. I could scout thither and return on the 25th."

To this, Elrond gave thought, but then he asked, "What of the Dúnedain and the Host of Lindon? When could they have marched, by what route, and how far could they have come? To these questions, we know 'naught.

'Tis possible thou would find the crossroads occupied, Helluin, but equally, thou could find it deserted, and if so, could not the battle have been joined in the meantime, somewhere west or north of Sûza?"

For some time all remained silent, trying to discern any answers to any of the lord's questions. In the end, all realized that they had no answers, for too much information was lacking. Then too, whether Helluin found the crossroads occupied or not, t'would still require days ere the knights of Imladris could muster and ride far enough to offer battle. They would then either be chasing the Host of Angmar down the road whilst trying to o'ercome a two or three day head start, or they would still be ignorant of the positions of both their enemies and their allies. They wound up wishing they could summon an Eagle.

"I deem we have no answers sufficient for a certain course, yet to remain at Amon Sûl shall accomplish 'naught," Helluin said, to which the others nodded in agreement. "I reckon that wheresoe'er the battle takes place, the allies now have the numbers to prevail. T'will be horsemen against footmen and they shall wreck devastation upon the Host of Angmar, for they shall offer this foe no quarter. In the aftermath, the survivors shall attempt to withdraw, perhaps to Fornost and a return to the starvation of winter, but more likely, I wager, to Carn Dûm which Men have ne'er assailed and from which escape to Rhovanion may be possible.

Might we not then take a leap of faith, assume the defeat of Angmar somewhere 'nigh Baranduin, and ride to assail those foes seeking to escape the battle? We could catch them in the open on their way back to Carn Dûm, deny their flight, and there complete the slaughter."

This suggestion, bloodthirsty as 'twas, received such approval from the knights that they took to stamping their feet and slapping their thighs. Most raised their voices in assent. Elrond and Glorfindel looked at the circle of faces gathered 'round and saw the eagerness clearly writ there. It took no great leap to imagine the knights in the two hill forts and at the billet on the causeway embracing the notion with equal fervor. The Peredhel looked to Glorfindel and canted his head. The reborn Noldo shrugged.

"Very well, Helluin," Elrond said. "We shall take thy advice and the counsel of wolf and horse. We shall ride northeast, beyond the North Downs, there to await the retreating Men and Yrch, and perhaps even their master. I trust thou shall welcome another opportunity to engage thy old enemy in combat."

"I shall indeed, should the Valar see fit to grant my wish," Helluin replied with a grim smile.

Then the Lord Elrond turned and dispatched two knights to the Weather Hills Forts to call for the return of those deployed there, and two more to call the knights in the billet to ready themselves to ride.

"We take our leave in the morn," he declared. "Prepare for battle."

For the remainder of that afternoon and through the night, the Elves made ready. Those posted to the hill forts withdrew south to Amon Sûl, whilst those at the summit vacated their camp. Supply wagons were packed with stores and spare equipment. By dawn on the 23rd, the cavalry was ready to ride. In the early morning light, a column of knights filed down to the East Road and followed it so far as to clear the base of Amon Sûl. Then, as Tindomul and his regent stood on the bank of Baranduin and surveyed the washed out ford, Elrond and Glorfindel led the Knights of Imladris north off the road and into the wide, rolling lowlands that stretched north from the border of old Cardolan all the way to Carn Dûm.

Fourteen score miles that way led, all of it well 'nigh deserted now. Even ere the wars of 1851 and 1974, the lands of Arnor had hosted a decreasing population of Dúnedain and Middle Men of Eriador. The Great Plague of 1636-7 had taken a grim toll and the populations had ne'er recovered after. 'Twixt the constant minor incursions and the major wars, the count of Eriador's people had continued to fall. Now, save for the population centers of Lindon, Fornost, Sûza, Bree-land, the Angle, and Imladris, only isolated farms and rural villages and hamlets remained. Those folk had fled Angmar's first onslaught in Nínui of 1974.

Riding north, the knights occasionally saw the ruins of a farm house or hamlet, burnt and abandoned the previous year. Save for weeds, fields lay fallow again for a second growing season. Fruit trees in some orchards that had escaped the axe now bloomed, but would any return to collect the fruit?

Just ere noon they crossed a country road and found it unkempt. Weeds grew up freely in the track, a dip had become a mud wallow, and an embankment had been washed out. Some imagined the effort required to haul a battering ram weighing dozens of tons o'er such roads and they grinned, wishing their enemies ill. The support staff eyed those same roads and hoped for the easy passage of their five wagons, knowing that sometime ere battle was joined they would be left behind, either to follow in good time, or to retreat in haste.

The column of knights rode about forty miles that day and on each of the next three, so that in the evening of 26 Gwirith, they encamped forty miles east of the northeastern end of the North Downs. Carn Dûm lay six score miles north, a three day ride. A hundred miles to their east, but only a score miles north stood Mt Gram on its westward arching spur of the northern Hithaeglir.

Before them lay a wide and inhospitable land, mostly flat, with scrubby vegetation of coarse grasses and heathers, lichen encrusted rock and the occasional stunted tree. This sere plain stretched off west to the Ered Luin and the Bay of Forochel in the north, five hundred unbroken miles to the Misty Mountains in the east. A 'nigh constant west wind blew, bringing the frigid airs of the north to torment to any cursed to dwell there. All the Elves felt a visceral distaste for it that fed their antipathy towards the servants of the Witch King.

Ten score miles to the southwest, a piercing whistle had broken the morning stillness and the fifty thousand infantry of Arthedain, Gondor, and Lindon had charged the final fifty yards to attack the camp of the Host of Angmar. At the fore were Prince Aranarth and Bregedúr Candon, commanding the Dúnedain and the Sindar. The early sunlight blazed behind them and none of the foe was prepared for battle.

In the camp, the Men were knee deep in the River Baranduin, struggling to place rocks and boulders to advance their repair of the ford. Most bore no weapons or armor, a practical matter meant to keep their steel and leather dry as they wallowed in water and mud. They had spent the past three days slaving thus and their morale was as low as their battle readiness. Indeed most had become so resentful of their master that their first inclination was to simply stare at the charging Dúnedain and Elves as if they were phantasms wrought by the Ringwraith for the increase of their torment. 'Twas only when several score of their comrades were pitched backwards by the impacts of arrows that they realized the reality of their fate and began to panic. Then some screamed and fled, splashing 'cross the shallow water towards the southern shore, whilst others tried desperately to reach the hither bank whither their weapons and their allies waited. Most could hardly believe the sheer count of the attackers. They had thought the Dúnedain 'nigh exterminated, for since the fall of Fornost o'er a year ago they had seen but few, and those 'nigh the crossroads where most had been slaughtered.

Now these same Men of the West and their Elvish allies were assailing their camp by the thousands. Grim were their faces and bitter their strokes. Unarmed and taken by surprise, many of the Hillmen and the remaining Easterlings fell quickly with only a few thousand able to rearm themselves in time to offer battle. As they desperately wielded their blades on the north bank, unseen archers picked off those of their comrades who had fled south 'cross the river.

By then, the attacking Dúnedain and Sindar had begun to o'errun the camp. There they engaged the sleep addled Yrch at every opportunity, hewing them with swords, impaling them with spears, shooting them with arrows, and turning aside their uncertain defensive strokes with sturdy shields. 'Twas the worst type of battle the Yrch could imagine, a combat that every Orch feared. They were forced to defend a flat field against numerically superior enemies 'neath the full light of the accursed sun. The river was at their back. No walls protected them. No ruins, caves, indeed little cover of any kind had they to retreat into. They were out in the open where they had been taken at unawares, order had broken down, and commands were not forthcoming. 'Twas every Orch for himself, but each was met by several grim foes that stood a head or more taller, with the light of hatred kindled in their bright eyes. By the river, their allied Men were being slaughtered. The Tor were buried 'til nightfall, and the Witch King was nowhere to be seen. It took not even the half part of an hour ere most of the Yrch turned tail and fled northeast, scuttling away from the river and their enemies.

During the battle, Prince Aranarth had been impressed with the war craft of the Rangers of Gondor. They slew their foes quickly and silently, and they were expert with the bow and the sword. During the march from Lindon they had ere remained a cadre apart and little contact had he shared with them, yet his impression was of well trained and proficient soldiers. Their encampments were set the quickest in the evenings, they spent the least time preparing and eating meals, and they struck camp quickest in the morn. Moreo'er, they managed to obliterate well 'nigh all trace of their camps ere abandoning them. They were courteous in speech and acknowledged his authority without question, yet they volunteered little, mingled little, and engaged in little visible mirth or levity in camp. As scouts and sentries they had proven unrivaled. Aranarth vowed to himself that he would engage with their captains after the battle, for his father had mentioned them years ere he had fled Fornost.

Now the bulk of the Yrch, with what remained of the Hillmen and Easterlings, fled the battle 'nigh Baranduin, and they thought first to escape back to Gondmar, there to endure a siege behind the strongest walls in the north. Though they had just spent the winter starving in that fortress, 'twas infinitely preferable to contesting with a greater enemy on open land. Perhaps the Tor would return after dark as well, perhaps not; few amongst the remnant of that host spent much concern on them. In those moments of flight, they cared only that a sanctuary lay not even thirty miles away, and they would run through the rest of the day and night to reach it.

They had barely made a league when they were confronted by their master. He appeared on his black horse and the sight of him cowed all to a halt. Then he projected his enchantments upon them, strengthening their hearts and bequeathing to them a measure of courage wholly unnatural to them. They ceased their rout and stood brandishing their arms, steeling themselves for the onslaught of their foes. But the Witch King had other plans and a longer view.

"Follow me now," he commanded. "We return north to our own lands, and the Men of the West shall tire long ere ye do, for I have granted ye strength to endure the long march in haste. We shall run them to their deaths, and once back in Angmar, regroup and plan to retake Eriador."

'Neath the spell the Ringwraith cast upon them, every one of them believed. They felt tireless and invincible. In an ordered company they set out on a double-time march that would take them northeast, 'round the North Downs and finally back to Carn Dûm.

By the river, the Dúnedain and the Sindar infantry were still engaged in the battle, slaying all who had not made good their escape. Twelve thousand died on the banks of Baranduin that day. Knowing that their cavalry waited 'nigh, Aranarth and Candon felt no compulsion to give chase. This should have been wondered at by the Witch King and his soldiers, but the former was preoccupied with his sorcery and maintaining the reinforcement of his troops, whilst those bespelled gave no thought to their foes save that they were no longer fighting. So it came to pass that for 'nigh on another two hours the reduced Host of Angmar fled unhindered and covered in all fifteen miles from the banks of the river.

Anor stood still two hours shy of the zenith when from the northwest the jogging column heard thunder and saw dust rising in the distance. None were so bespelled that they could remain oblivious, for minute by minute the sound grew louder as a host of riders approached.

At the head of the column, Tindomul marked the advance of cavalry. He deemed that the cowards from Fornost had finally dared take the field to offer battle. Though he knew not their exact count, for they had played no part in the defense of Fornost, the Nazgûl had a good estimate based on what he had seen in 1851. They could not number more than five thousands.

"The craven knights of fallen Arthedain make some gambit to halt ye," he declared to his host, "yet ye still number fifteen thousands, and they not a third of that. They shall find themselves sorely o'ermatched when they arrive. Now turn the column to face them and cut the legs and bellies from the mounts 'neath them as they pass the flanks. Once the survivors are fled, we shall stop to feast on the flesh of horses and Men."

The host gave a great cheer and began to reform their column. Ranks and files turned by companies and ere the cavalry arrived, the Yrch and Men faced them in ranks only fifty wide, but three hundred files deep. A mass charge could no longer impact their host as t'would when slamming into a tightly massed but long and shallow battle front. There they waited as the thunder grew deafening and the cloud of dust rose closer and closer. 'Twas too late when they finally realized their mistake.

Misinformed by his beliefs, Tindomul had based his expectation that five thousand riders were charging from a distance of a quarter mile on the tremors in the ground and the volume of the cloud of dust they raised. With his host, he waited. The tremors grew more intense and the cloud of dust expanded, but the cavalry still had not arrived. Ere he marked his mistake aright, a line of knights o'er a half-mile wide could be seen approaching in the distance.

As that formation closed in, the Nazgûl marked them clearly. Their front rank rode close, the horses spaced two rangar apart to preserve sufficient distance 'twixt each pair for the swing of arm and sword, axe, or mace. Five hundreds made up the front rank, and the block formation was nine files deep. Therein rode his expected four thousand five hundred Knights of Arthedain. But from his position on the far northern flank of his host whence he had led his column north, he could see five more blocks, all close in size.

'Twas o'er twenty-five thousand knights all told and they were now less than a quarter-mile off. He gave a silent, mental groan, realizing that he had completely misinterpreted the scale of the event, but ne'er realizing that he had beheaded the wounded Easterling from the blockade of Lindon prematurely. He knew not whence so many Dúnedain had come, only that the results would soon be very bad.

All the Witch King could do was to increase the enhancement of his troops so that they stood their ground and met the incoming enemy upright and with fell intent. Not a one wavered at the initial onslaught. Though their surviving archers and pike bearers were few, the fey courage that their master's enchantments conferred magnified the native savagery of the Yrch and the wanton violence of the Men. Their cause was beyond hopeless, and yet they stood and fought.

With Knight Commander Hírochon, Captain Belegon, who had conveyed the royal family to Lindon, and his other captains in the van, the cavalry of Arthedain charged toward the Host of Angmar with cries of "Arthedain!" and "Arvedui!" rising from their lips. Their pennants bearing seven stars in an arc o'er the Scepter of Annúminas lowered as lances were leveled against the enemy.

Behind the Knights of Arthedain came the smallest block formation, composed of two kindreds. On their right flank rode the Northmen of Rhovanion, whilst on the left flank rode the surviving thousand Knights of Lindon armed with lances and single-edged falchion swords. The Northmen numbered two thousand five hundred riders, of whom five hundreds bore short, recurved bows as their primary weapon. Another one thousand five hundred bore spears. The rear ranks of their formation were made up of five hundred armed auxiliaries, most bearing axes or swords.

Following these two blocks were four blocks of five thousands each, with each rank five hundred knights 'cross, and ten files deep. They carried pennants attached to their lances bearing the White Tree of Gondor 'neath an arc of seven stars, and at their head rode Prince Eänur 'neath a larger banner of the South Kingdom. With him in the first block were the five thousand knights of his own company. Following behind were the remaining fifteen thousand Knights of Gondor, selected from cavalry companies 'cross the realm and riding 'neath the command of their various lieutenants.

When the lead block of Arthedain knights were a furlong off, Hírochon marked the disposition of the enemy column. He raised his lance vertical and bobbed it left to right a couple times ere leveling it again at the Host of Angmar. At once the files of his block divided left and right to ride down both long flanks of their foes. Close behind, the blocks of knights from Rhovanion and Lindon separated to follow.

Now the Yrch and Men in Angmar's host watched as the charging cavalry split their files, and in haste they turned to their flanks to meet them. There was no time to rearrange their column. All they could do was turn right or left and present their weapons to the enemy. The Yrch who bore bows loosed their arrows against the horsemen at close range. Some knights fell and some horses stumbled, and the nearest files were forced to turn aside or leap the fallen, but many more planted lances in their foes. 'Twas only because the cavalry's block formation was but nine files deep that the Host of Angmar's casualties were limited. Most of the knights rode past the column with two or more knights 'twixt them and their foes, and so they were constrained from attacking. Indeed, the nearest knights were forced to ride a gauntlet, passing down three hundred files of hostile Yrch and Men. Arrows flew and some spears were thrown at them as they rode by. The Host of Angmar had received a momentary respite in which to inflict casualties, and 'twas the same on both flanks. Four thousand five hundred knights had assailed their column, but fewer than fifty had been in good position to bring their weapons to bear. Then the Knights of Arthedain were past the column and they turned in a wide arc to reengage from the rear.

The same arrangement of battle followed as the second block approached, but the results were different. On the southern flank, the Northmen met the Host of Angmar with five hundred mounted archers spread throughout their ranks. 'Twas also their habit to ride with their files more widely spaced than the Dúnedain knights, and this was an adaptation to favor their bowmen. The archers began to fire into the enemy column once they closed to a hundred yards, and they had time to fire a second arrow as they charged past. Ere they rode clear of the enemy, they had loosed 'nigh a thousand arrows, taking the lives of many Hillmen, Easterlings, and Yrch and wounding more. As had the Knights of Arthedain with their lances, those files closest to the Host of Angmar had flung their spears as they charged past.

On the Northern flank, the cavalry of Lindon made their pass, but unlike Men, the Sindar reacted faster and very few situations were unexpected. In the last furlong ere they engaged, the knights in their third and fourth files slowed and fell in behind the last rank of the first and second files in their block, effectively doubling their numbers and bringing more weapons to bear on their enemies. The outer files five to one hundred immediately broke off wide and positioned themselves for a return attack against the enemy flank. Their tactics were the result of their long practice at mounted combat. Centuries and millennia of drilling had provided them with more options than their mortal counterparts. Still, 'twas only forty Sindar who rode in position to attack, and once they impaled a foe with their lance, they broke off rather than ride down the full length of the hostile column.

By then, Prince Eänur had marked the disposition of Angmar's column and the tactics of his allies, and he too gave a command, waving his lance right and left, but the cavalry tactics of the southern Dúnedain had developed differently o'er the centuries since the Great War. Rather than his blocks dividing right and left, the outer two hundred files on each side immediately peeled off in tight arcs to their flanks and slowed to a trot. Once they had attained a distance of a hundred yards, they reformed their ranks and files and prepared to charge diagonally at the flanks of the enemy column. During that time, the center hundred files had followed the prince's banner straight into the Host of Angmar in a frontal charge at a full gallop.

The Knights of Gondor slammed into the front ranks of the Yrch and Men, planting their lances in bodies and slamming enemies aside with the power of their horses. Then their swords, axes, and maces were drawn, and they continued down the column swinging their weapons. They engaged the front twenty ranks of Angmar's host ere they lost momentum, and then they broke off and followed the prince south out of the engagement.

Eärnur's company had barely cleared the foe's formation when the central files of the second block slammed into the stunned Yrch and Men and the slaughter continued. The third and fourth blocks attacked in the same manner and ere the survivors could take a breath in relief, the cavalry of Arthedain charged their rear.

Finally the Host of Angmar broke and began to scatter. Despite the strength they derived from the Ringwraith's conjuring, they could all see the near future clearly enough to know that four out of every five Knights of Gondor would next charge into their flanks. The first waves of their cavalry attack had been devastating, and whilst fallen knights and horses littered the ground flanking their column, half their host lay slain. Enemy formations stood ready to charge north and south at the fore, whilst to their north waited the Elves of Lindon.

All this the Witch King too had seen. He marked clearly the disadvantage at which his host stood and he could see no gain in maintaining the engagement whilst so badly outnumbered. But most of all, he had marked the banner of Gondor and the commander who rode 'neath it. That one he would single out for his enmity should the chance arise. In the meantime, he projected his will into each of his surviving fighters and they turned to follow him north, charging against the Elves of Lindon in a tight mass. Before an infantry charge of seven thousand desperate Yrch and Men, the thousand Sindar were forced to give way. Halved again yet still a coherent force, the Host of Angmar fled behind the Witch King.

To Be Continued