Yes, I know, I know, this one was a long time coming. I've got lots of reasons, but I won't bore you with them. This chapter was really hard to write, not because it was too short, but because it was too long! Lots of stuff to fit in, and I reluctantly decided I had to move the Battle Of Helms Deep into the next chapter. BTW, for those of you who are out of the loop, chapters 1 and 2 have been improved, so you're welcome to read them again. I'll be revamping three next, before going on to chapter 22. This is the longest chapter of the story so far, and I hope it meets your expectations and slightly makes you forgive me for being late.
On with the tale!
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Thalia
We come, We come, with roll of drum, ta-runda runda runda rom;
We come, We come, with horn and drum, ta-runa runa runa rom!
Before them was a wasteland. For nearly a mile around the walls of Isengard, the ground was cracked and dry. Hundreds of bare stumps bore witness to the wanton hewing of the orcs. The very air seemed poisonous and it stank of smoke. Inside Isengard, it seemed the same. Clouds of black smoke billowed out. The hammering and clanking of metal rang loud. Harsh guttural cries emanated from inside. Tall wooden structures had been built, probably to aid in the construction of siege engines. At the very centre of the walls, the black tower rose, walls of obsidian stretching high, four sharp spires piercing the sky. Orthanc. Thalia's grip tightened on her spear.
Treebeard held out a huge arm for a halt. Something was happening. Suddenly, the huge gates of Isengard groaned open. Thalia raised an eyebrow in surprsie. What was going on? The first horseman rode out, armored in black. A white hand was imprinted on his helmet, and also emblazoned on the banner he bore. He raised the banner high. Behind him streamed the forces of Isengard. Orcs. Hundreds upon hundreds of them. Saruman had been very busy indeed. They poured out of the gates, the fighting Uruk Hai, snarling savagely, with the White Hand on their foreheads. Nearly half of them were riding Wargs, the giant wolves. Isengard was being emptied. But they were not all orcs. There were men, too. The Southerners and the Dunlanders, swarthy, ugly men, enemies of Rohan who had allied themselves with Saruman. His preparations were done. His army was ready, their weapons forged. They were bloodthirsty and savage. They were going for war.
Thalia felt a nudge from Percy, and looked up quizzically. Percy pointed up at the very top of Isengard. Thalia saw it. among the four spires, a white figure with a shining white staff watched as his forces swarm out of the gates. Saruman. Thalia made a rude gesture at him, and burst into quiet snickers with Percy. She directed her attention back to the army. There were so many of them. The procession must have been going on for nearly ten minutes, and still the men were coming.
A voice, magically magnified, sounded from the top of the tower. "A new power is rising! It's victory is at hand! This night, the land shall be stained with the blood of Rohan! March to Helm's Deep, Leave none alive!" The armies beneath cheered and banged their shields, roaring with approval. Saruman raised his hands. "TO WAR!" The army surged out the gates almost frantically. The voice was suddenly quieter now, but still audible. "There will be no dawn for men."
Percy's face was twisted into a mask of repulsion and anger. His hand gripped Riptide's hilt so tight that his knuckles were white. "Quickbeam, shouldn't we do something?" he asked.
Thalia had never noticed, but now she found her hand had already nocked an arrow to her bow, fire burning in her breast. Percy was right. It went against her nature to allow these monsters to pass unhindered.
"No. Our business is with Isengard tonight, Perseus, with rock and stone." Quickbeam answered.
Thalia interjected. "But these monsters are on their way to kill more people! How can we allow that to happen?"
"children." Thalia started. She hadn't noticed Treebeard coming up to them. Now, his old, green gaze was fixed on them, considering them. Merry and Pips waved from the branches that seemed to form his head. "Children, You are angry, and perhaps right. Even now, I feel the anger at watching the orcs that have killed our people march past, and I would dearly wish to crush them under my foot. But that would be too hasty. We should not lose sight of what we came for. Children, the strength of an Ent, and of a tree, are in its roots. If you lop off the branches but leave the trunk and root intact, an Ent can regrow his limb in time. It is the same here. Saruman is the source of all this evil here. We shall cut off this tree at the roots. We shall wait, then we shall strike."
"Alright, but right after we take Isengard, I swear I'm riding to Helm's Deep."Reluctantly, Thalia shouldered her bow and returned the arrow to her quiver. Percy grimaced, but Riptide shrunk back into pen form. Out of the blue, a loud CRASH startled her into nearly falling off her branch, but Perce managed to grab her hand just in time and pull her back up. Turning to see the source of the noise, she saw that the last of the orcs had finally departed from Isengard, and the doors had crashed shut. After the tramping of horseshoes and feet had faded into the distance, silence then fell upon Isengard.
Treebeard rumbled. "Now to wait."
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Thalia never thought time could pass so slowly. The hours till night drifted by slowly, very slowly. She tried to make conversation with the other three strangers, but they were silent, talking only amongst themselves. She sparred with Percy for a short while, keeping herself sharp, while the hobbits watched with interest, alternately cheering for her or Percy. The hours were an agonizing wait.
Finally, the last light of the sun sank below the mountains. A sudden mood change rippled among the Ents. It was like the forest had been tense for so long, like a thunderstorm brewing (And trust her, Thalia knew the feeling) and suddenly it had exploded. Suddenly awake and more alert than ever, Thalia and Percy clung to the branches as Treebeard turned to face Isengard again. He stomped his feet and issued a loud roar. As one, the Ents marched.
"To Isengard! Though Isengard be ringed and barred with doors of stone
Though Isengard be strong and hard, as cold as stone and bare as bone
We go, we go, we go to war, to hew the stone and break the door;
For bole and bough are burning now, the furnace roars – we go to war!
To land of gloom with tramp of doom, with roll of drum, we come, we come;
To Isengard with doom we come!
With doom we come, with doom we come!"
Thalia pulled out her spear and roared along with the Ents. They marched forward, destroying all the structures in their way. Shooting a quick look behind, Thalia gasped at the amount of trees following them. It was as if their numbers had doubled, even tripled! The trees themselves, the non-ents, were following them. They had been awoken!
Treebeard headed for the doors, trumpeting for Saruman in a loud roar. A small hail of rocks and arrows answered him. They didn't seem to do him much harm, but they certainly made Treebeard positively hasty. Thalia had never thought of trees as scary or particularly dangerous. Sure, they were big, and could probably kill you with a blow, but they had always seemed slow, quiet and peaceable. What she saw next totally changed her perception of trees forever. Treebeard let out a great HOOM HOOM, and a dozen more Ents strode up beside him. An angry Ent was terrifying to behold. His fingers, his toes, they froze onto the rock, and the rocks were torn up like bread crust. It was like watching the work of great tree roots in a hundred years, all packed into a few moments. The Ents attacked, tearing off huge boulders from the remains of the walls and launching them at the black walls of Orthanc. High on a balcony, a figure robed in white, rushed to the edge and gasped at the pandemonium below.
The Ents pushed, they pulled, they tore, shook and hammered. In five minutes, the huge iron gates of Isengard were lying in twisted ruins on the ground. The walls were torn up and launched again and again at the many structures around Isengard, totally reducing them to dust and splinters. The few remaining orcs ran around their feet uselessly, and Thalia had a grand time picking them off with her bow and arrow. Then Isengard fought back. Secret mechanisms ground under the dirt, and jets of liquid fire spurted out of a hole, setting an Ent on fire and bringing it crashing to the ground in agony. Fire continued to rise from holes positioned in the ground, bringing a stop to the siege. The Ents could proceed no further. Saruman started laughing from his perch high above.
Bad mistake. Treebeard pointed to the dam of Isen, roaring. "BREAK THE DAM! RELEASE THE RIVER!" Rocks twice the size of Thalia were hurled towards the wooden dam, and the supports splintered. For a moment, the remains of the dam hung in the gap, still holding back the water behind, tiny squirts leaking from the holes. Then the water pushed with the raw, unrestrained, unstoppable power of a river released. The Ents braced themselves against the flood, and the raging river swirled towards Isengard. As Thalia watched in awe, the water formed huge impossible structures. Gigantic figures of water rose and dashed themselves against the walls of Orthanc, drenching the wizard by the balcony and forcing him to retreat. The water rushed over the holes, filling them and quenching the fires. Huge billows of steam hissed as the water rushed into the holes. Streams of water spiralled into the air and twisted around Orthanc, soaking into any crevice and crack. Percy obviously knew water couldn't destroy a tower, but he was certainly aiming to make Saruman's life in the tower as uncomfortable as possible. For good measure and dramatic effect, Thalia summoned a few bolts of lightning.
The attack was over in less than three hours. Of Isengard, only the black tower remained, dripping wet and scored with the marks of hundreds of boulders. It was protected by wizard sorcery, and could not be destroyed. But that didn't stop the trees, which formed a ring around Isengard where the walls used to stand. There would be no easy escape route for Saruman. The grounds of Isengard were utterly flooded. Knowing they were safe, Thalia finally found the time to fall fast asleep in Quickbeam's boughs.
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Morning came all too quickly, though, and with it, an unpleasant surprise.
"HEAR ME, FOOLS. I HAVE A BARGAIN TO MAKE OF YOU!" Saruman (Who was soaking wet, incidently) called from the balcony, dragging something limp behind him. Thalia frowned and squinted up at the white wizard, wondering what he was doing. "MY FREEDOM, FOR THE LIFE OF GANDALF THE GREY!" With a vicious tug, he pulled the figure up and propped him against the balcony. The gasp tore out of Thalia's throat, joined by Merry and Pippin, and a shout of outrage from Percy. Gandalf looked terrible. His hat and staff were nowhere to be seen, his robe hung in tatters from his skeleton-thin body, his beard was matted with dirt and filth, and his wrinkled face was bloody.
"Why you..!" Percy had already uncapped Riptide, the waters of Isengard seethed and boiled along with him. Thalia quickly placed a hand on his shoulders. "Not now Perce, not now." She whispered to him.
Treebeard frowned as he studied the two Istar on the balcony. "What are you terms, wizard?"
Saruman laughed maniacally. "It's simple, wood demon. I leave Isengard unmolested with my possessions, and you can have this" He nudged Gandalf with his foot, "one back, a bit worse for wear, I'm afraid."
Unconsciously, dark clouds had begun to gather above Isengard, flickering with lightning. This time, it was Percy who had to shake her out of it.
Suddenly, there was another development. Hoofbeats, coming fast towards Isengard. Two horses rode up towards the destroyed gates, one carrying a man with a shrewd, pinched face, the other a man dressed in fine robes, yet looking very old and weary. As they approached the ruined fortress, the smaller man seemed to stop in surprise and despair. "What has happened here? Master?" He called.
Saruman glanced down from his tower. "Ah, it's you, Grima, with the King of Rohan, no less. You have done well. More bargaining chips for me to use."
Grima looked confused at that, but Percy stirred as if he remembered something. He looked Grima up and down. "I remember your name. Lady Eowyn said something about you poisoning the mind of the king! Wormtongue." Wormtongue gulped and tried to back away, but Percy held his wrist in an iron grip.
"Stranger, let my advisor go!" The King spoke up. "This is the order of the King of Rohan."
Percy gave him a long hard look, but released Wormtongue's hands.
Saruman laughed. "Yes, you have certainly done well, Grima. The King, a doddering old fool, unable to do anything for his beloved country. Totally under my power."
Thalia couldn't take it anymore. A bolt of lightning descended and would have fried Saruman if he hadn't backed away hastily. Saruman turned to her instantly, his sneer widening. "And you have those children with you! The children I have heard so much about. Children who have power over the very elements! Your powers would be very useful under me." He chuckled.
Percy gritted his teeth. "I really want to put a few dents into his face."
Thalia nodded in agreement. "He needs to have something of his fried. Perhaps that beard of his?"
Saruman chuckled derisively. "Would you like to test me, child? Remember your defeat at Caradhras."
"Saruman." A new voice spoke, quiet, but everyone present heard clearly. "You have gone too far." The strangers had spoken. Their faces were still in the shadow of their hoods, but they now radiated an undeniable aura of power.
Saruman looked confused at this new development. "And who are you to question me?" He said airily.
"You have abused your power and turned your back on what you were." The second, a female voice, spoke.
"You have gone too far." The third man agreed. "Curunir."
Saruman's face suddenly blanched, horror showing on his face. "No. It cannot be." He backed away from the balcony.
The lead man stretched out his arm and pulled it back, "We are not finished, Curunir." And Saruman found himself returning to the balcony against his will. He was breathing hard now, his face lined and shrunken, his hand clutching his white staff like a claw.
The man continued. "You have turned your back from what you had been sent to do. You have abused your power to form monstrosities. You have tried to hinder the progress of good men. You have used your tongue to deceive many. You have attacked a fellow Istari and held him in your cells, even to the point of breaking his staff."
The third man then held out his hand. "I am grieved, but I have no choice. Are the charges against you true, Curunir? May your own tongue condemn you."
With what seemed like great effort, the words tumbled out of Saruman's mouth against his will. "It…is…true."
The man hung his head, then raised his hand to Saruman. "You have become a fool, Saruman, and yet pitiable. You might still have turned away from folly and evil, but you choose to stay and gnaw at your own plots. Stay then! Even now, your new master might turn his eyes from the East on you again." His voice was terrible and commanding. "Saruman, you have no color now. I cast you from the Order of the Istari and the White Council. You are henceforth shunned and in exile. Saruman, your staff is broken."
There was a loud CRACK, and the staff in Saruman's hands split apart. Saruman shrieked and clutched his chest in agony and pain. He collapsed beside the figure of Gandalf.
The man then nodded to the first couple, who then held out their arms and intoned. "Saruman the White is no more, who shall take up his mantle?"
Gandalf weakly stood up, his eyes shining with joy as he recognized the two. "I will be honored to, my Lord."
The two smiled. "Then let Olorin, once Gandalf the Grey, take up the powers and responsibility of the White. He shall be Gandalf the Grey no more, But Gandalf the White, most powerful of the Istar and leader of the White Council."
White light shone around Gandalf, and as Percy and Thalia watched in awe, the light surrounded him and formed into snow white robes around him. Light coalesced into a new, smooth staff and landed in his fingers. His limbs seemed to grow stronger, and he could now stand on his own. Even his beard and hair transformed to pure white. He smiled entered into the castle, coming out the door. He knelt at the feet of the two beings. "Lord Manwe, Lady Varda." He nodded in the direction of the other being. "Aule."
Manwe smiled gently and placed his hand on Gandalf. "Rise, Olorin. Finish your task you were sent to do." Varda nodded at him, smiling proudly. Aule joined the group, and the three of them vanished in a burst of bright light.
"Oookay, someone want to tell me what just happened?" Thalia asked.
Gandalf, still glowing faintly with white light, chuckled as he walked over to them. "Saruman has finally gotten what had been coming to him. He is no longer wizard now, and all his power and influence had been erased from this world." He barely finished his sentence before he was tackled by Thalia in a tight hug, followed by the two hobbits. Even Percy was pulled into the hug. Gandalf smiled. "Yes, children, I have missed you too."
"What…has happened? Why am I at Isengard?" The King seemed like a man awoken from a dream. Thalia could see his face visibly growing younger, the beard fading and the lines melting into his face. Instead of a doddering seventy year old man, she saw a man of forty, still strong and able to fight, with an air of command. Saruman's power over him was gone. He found Wormtongue cowering next to him and frowned, confused.
"Ah…My King. I can explain, I can explain!" Grima stuttered, his palms outstretched.
"I think I would be better suited to give this explanation, Theoden King, don't you think?" Gandalf strode up, resplendent in his new white robes.
Theoden looked skeptically at the both of them, but ultimately seemed to decide Gandalf looked more trustworthy, and went to him.
Looking around, Thalia saw that Percy had vanished into the doorway of the tower. She rolled her eyes. Typical. Didn't even wait for me… She shouldered her weapons and ran into the dark entrance. The place was huge, with stairs everywhere. Hearing a sound from upstairs, she followed it and soon emerged in a grand black chamber. Percy was standing curiously in front of a stone plinth, his hands slowly pulling away a piece of cloth to reveal a glass sphere thing. "I wonder what this is." He muttered to himself.
"Hey Kelp Head, I don't think we should be messing around with those wizard stuff." Thalia warned.
"What's the harm? Hey, this looks like one of those crystal balls we have in fairs back on Earth." Percy joked, picking up the sphere. Suddenly, fire swirled in the depths of the ball, almost causing Percy to drop it in shock, but he held on. "WOAH! What the Hades?"
Thalia ran over to him, half-panicked. "What? What is it?"
"I can see like, all of Rohan! Hey look! There's Eowyn and Aragorn leading a bunch of people to that fortress!" Thalia tried to make a grab for the ball, but Percy held it out of the way. Stupid Kelp Head. Why did he have to be taller than her?! "Oh Styx, someone needs to warn them. There's wolves coming their way, and Saruman's army is only three days away – Hey! The views changing! Oh wow, is that Gondor? The White City? Cool!"
Thalia was hopping on one foot to the other in impatience. She tried tickling Percy's arms to make him let go of the ball. Percy pushed her away, suppressing giggles. "Stop that Thals! Hey!" Suddenly, his face went pale white, his eyes widened in shock and incomprehension. Thalia spotted…tears…in his eyes. Percy looked into the ball, as if unable to believe what he was seeing. "A..Ann…Annabeth?"
Thalia froze. Had she heard Percy aright? Then another stranger thing happened. "P…Percy?" The ball spoke. The voice was unmistakable. Thalia quickly ran to Percy's side and stared into the ball. Her own eyes widened. Annabeth was on the other side, a similar look of shock on her features. "Thalia?"
"Annabeth! You're alright!" Percy breathed.
"Of course I'm alright, Seaweed Brain. Captain Faramir seems to have understood now, considering Osgiliath was almost taken by the Nazgul."
"Osgiliath? Nazgul?!" Thalia butted in.
"It's a city on the banks of the Anduin, but enough of that. Where are you? Do you have a similar ball at your side?"
"We're in Isengard, in Rohan. And yes, Kelp Head's holding a crystal ball of some kind."Thalia answered, still trying to get over the shock. "Annabeth, we found Gandalf. He's alive!"
"Really? That's amazing news!" her voice turned somber. "Perce? Faramir told us Boromir was…dead. Is that true?"
"No…he's not. Nico managed to bring him back." Percy responded.
Annabeth gave a relieved smile. "It's so amazing to see you guys again, alive and well – hey! What? No!" Annabeth's face was flickering, her voice growing fainter, as if there was interference. Thalia suddenly had the feeling that they were being pulled, that something was pulling the ball towards itself Eastwards. The lights inside the ball blurred, as if speeding. Without warning, a red, fiery eye burst out inside the ball, glaring at them. Thalia screamed, and Percy let out a muffled curse, dropping the ball instantly. The sphere hit the floor and bounced along it, the fire inside finally extinguishing. Percy and Thalia shared a shocked, horrified look.
"So it seems that you have found the palantir of Orthanc." Came a quiet voice from behind. Both whirled and had weapons outstretched in an instant, their nerves still on edge, but it was only Gandalf, leaning on his staff, watching from the doorway. He walked forward and picked up the stone from where it had fallen, putting it into a fold in his robe. "As you have found, it is not a thing to be trifled with."
"W…what was it Gandalf? We saw Rohan! And Annabeth! We talked to her!" Thalia found her voice.
Gandalf gave a small start and studied them with an air of wonder. "You saw other things before the Eye? Did you not feel it pulling?"
Thalia didn't know what he meant, but Percy nodded. "Yes, when I picked it up, I felt it pulling…East, but I didn't want to see East, so I resisted. It was the shock of seeing Annabeth that made me slip, and I felt the pull win, just before the eye appeared."
Gandalf smiled and patted Percy lightly. "A strong will you obviously possess. I fear if others had used it, they would have seen nothing but the Dark Lord. Now the reason for Saruman's fall is clear. He has been using the stone to converse with the Dark Lord for so many times, that the stone seems attuned to the Barad-Dur stone, that whoever uses it will see nothing but Him, unless he has a strong will."
Thalia snorted. "I think the word you're searching for is 'stubborn'." Percy mock glared, and stuck out his tongue, an act which she returned.
"You…say you saw Rohan?" A new voice spoke up. Sometime during their conversation, Theoden and the hobbits had also arrived at the room. "What is happening in my country?" He asked, almost fearful.
Percy frowned. "It's not good news. Saruman has emptied his strongholds of his orcs, and ten thousand of them are marching towards…'Helms Deep', I think."
The King's face tightened. "I have to go to my people, then." He strode outwards at a great pace, heading for his horse.
Gandalf frowned. "Even if Theoden King reaches Helms Deep in time, I fear your fighting men are still to little." He observed.
Theoden paused in the doorway, his face regretful. "Ah, I remember. Faithful Eomer, banished." He sighed. "There is no help coming from them. Even if I knew where they were, I would not be able to get them to Helm's Deep in time. Who is leading my men now?" He directed the question towards Percy.
"I think it was Eowyn, sir." He replied.
Theoden nodded curtly. "I take my leave now, gentlemen." He hopped on top of his horse.
"Wait!" Thalia called, running towards him. The King half-frowned, but stayed momentarily, waiting. "I swore an oath as the Ents attacked Isengard, King. I swore I would ride to Helm's Deep and help in their defense." The King made to protest, but she pulled out her spear and twirled it expertly, daring the King to question her experience. "And don't even think about saying something about girls not fighting."
A genuine smile crossed the King's features. "Your help is most welcome, then." He stretched out his hand, and Thalia grabbed it, allowing herself to be hoisted behind the King.
She gave Percy a quizzical look. "You're not coming, Perce?"
He shook his head. "Naah. I think Gandalf and I have something else to attend to." He turned to the King. "Mind if we borrow that white horse?" He pointed to the magnificent white steed that Grima had ridden. The poor horse seemed to be very cruelly restrained by many things to curb its fiery spirit.
Theoden chuckled once. "If you can tame Shadowfax, he can be yours. Farewell." He whispered into his horse's ear, and they shot off in the direction of the mountains. "Prepare yourself, child. We may likely be emerging into a battlefield."
Thalia shrugged nonchalantly as she reached for her spear. "Hey, I was born ready."
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Boromir
Everything was quiet. Too quiet. Boromir watched the plains uneasily as he rode beside Legolas at the fringes of the crowd. More than two thousand men, women and children were being herded towards the mountain fortress, Helm's Deep. He knew of the place from stories Faramir had told him, about the impenetrable fortress of rock. He only hoped those claims were true. So far, already a day into the journey, everything was going to plan, but somehow he got the feeling it was only the calm before the storm. In only a matter of hours, they would reach the hills and the fortress. If Saruman had something planned, it was going to happen now.
As if on cue, he saw Legolas tensing out of the corner of his eye. His hand fingered his sword and half-pulled it from it's sheath. "What is it?" He asked in a low voice.
"Wolves with the stink of orc filth."Legolas answered, already reaching for his bow. Seeing Boromir's uncomprehending look, he continued. "Wargs. Giant wolves from the north. The orcs ride them into battle. The last time I saw them was sixty years ago at the Battle of the Five Armies. That Saruman has been breeding them again is not good news at all."
Boromir whistled urgently for Aragorn, and the Ranger brought his horse over, Nico and Gimli not far behind. "Aragorn, wargs approaching. Try to gather to Rohirrim. I'm going to warn Eowyn." Aragorn nodded curtly and galloped off to find Erkenbrand, while Boromir spurred his horse a bit faster till he reached the front of the line. "Lady Eowyn! Enemies are approaching. You need to pick up the pace! The Rohirrim will fall behind to protect you. You must get the people to Helm's Deep at all costs."
Eowyn seemed to struggle, then nodded. Pulling out her horn, she blew a few blasts on it, and the people started to walk faster. Boromir rode again to the back of the line, where a line of Rohirrim had already gathered, spears at the ready. Aragorn was waiting there, his sword already unsheathed. He slowly got off his horse and unsheathed his own sword and settled to wait.
They didn't have to wait long. In the distance, there were horns blowing, and soon the howling of wolves filled the air. The Rohirrim held steady, to their credit. They had three hundred men, with the other half still following Eowyn in case the wargs broke through. Would it be enough? He could only hope. Almost unconsciously, his hand reached for the Horn of Gondor, only to grasp empty air. The howls got louder. He raised his sword.
Then suddenly they were upon them. Speeding across the land, a hundred and fifty gigantic brown wolves the size of horses thundered towards them, carrying lightly armored orcs wielding scimitars and yelling whoops. The Rohirrim charged to meet them. The two sides met in an epic clash, with men and orcs alike being swept from their mounts, most killed within minutes by tramping hooves or gnashing teeth. A rider charged straight for him, his scimitar narrowly missing his scalp by a few inches. Boromir slashed the side of the warg, and blood spurted out. The Rider fell to the ground, and was stabbed before he could even arise.
Glancing around the battlefield, he saw Legolas was showing off as usual, somehow making every move seem planned and graceful. He would have thought Gimli and Nico would be at a disadvantage, but their own height proved to be their edge, as the orcs could rarely lean low enough to reach them. Gimli and his axe caused dozens of wolves to suddenly buck and throw their riders off to hit the ground, at just the right height for his axe. Nico focused on the orcs that had fallen to the ground, stabbing them and draining their life force away.
A riderless warg snapped at him, and he barely avoided having his arm amputated. Suddenly struck by an idea, he grabbed handfuls of the wolf's fur and pulled himself up to it's back. The warg bucked and tried its very best to throw him off, snarling and growling all the while, but Boromir grimly hung on. Then with a well aimed kick on it's flank, he sent the warg charging a cluster of other riders at the edge of a small cliff. At the very last moment, he leapt off, and the warg crashed into two others, sending them falling into the river below. He allowed himself a smug smile of satisfaction.
Then he turned around and saw five more riders heading for him, anger and vengeance in their eyes. He took a deep breath and stepped away from the edge of the cliff, holding his sword high. Maybe he could dive out of the way at the last moment. No such luck. The orcs dismounted, forming a circle around him. Boromir took his round shield from his back and strapped it to his arm. Then it was a free for all. Kicking, punching, stabbing. Boromir fought for his life. He was one of the strongest men in Gondor, and the orcs were not Uruks, but they had the advantage of numbers. A glimpse over the heads of the orcs showed the battle mostly finished, with only a few wargs left for the Rohirrim to finish killing. Nico turned and saw the cluster of orcs gathered by the cliffside, and a sly smile played over his face. He waved to Boromir, who instantly realized his plan and nodded once. He gave the orc in front of him a good kick to the groin and ducked out of the way, heading away from the cliff. Nico waited a few more seconds, then he jammed his sword into the ground. Then the groundf the orcs were standing on peeled away from the cliff, and they all fell into the ravine below. Boromir was left on the cliffside, unharmed. But at the very last moment, there was a sharp tug on his shoulder straps. His eyes widened as with a sudden jerk, he was dragged down into the ravine. Everything went black for Boromir.
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Orcs. Thousands of them. Maybe even ten thousand, marching out of Isengard. He had never seen so many orcs before in his life. The Uruks tramped forward, marching towards the mountains. He knew these mountains. He had only been heading for them this morning. Helm's Deep. The orcs were going to Helms Deep. He saw the Rohirrim had made it back to the fortress and even now were preparing the defenses. There wasn't enough. Not enough men, not enough weapons, not enough time.
"Yes, not enough time." A new voice sounded. He whirled and saw a figure in white watching him pensively.
"Who are you?"
"You know me. I was the one who sent you to Rivendell."
He bowed. "Lord Lorien."
"Rise. There is not much time. Help is going to Helms Deep, but they need time to get there. You have to buy them time, do you understand?"
"I have to buy them time?"
"yes. When you wake up, go with your friend Daechir and find a way to slow down the orcs."
"Daechir?"He was puzzled. He knew no one of that name.
For the first time, Lorien chuckled. "Shadow Lord. It is a Sindarin name Mandos thought up for one of the helpers we have sent you. Now go. Awake and do your job."
"Thank you, Lord Lorien."
=o=o=o=o=o=o=
"Boromir! Boromir!" Someone was shaking him. His clothes were wet. The ground he was lying on was crumbly and had a lot of loose rocks and stuff. Sand. Blearily, he opened his eyes to see a figure in black.
He groaned. "Daechir?"
"Huh?" Boromir's vision cleared, and he saw Nico standing before him. He raised an eyebrow, then chuckled softly. Shadow Lord? It certainly fitted. Nico gave him sheepish smile. "Uh, sorry for making you fall off a cliff? Perce did that stunt on a bridge back at home, so I though I could try it. Didn't see you there at first."
Boromir rubbed his sore head. "Why am I still alive? Why are you here?"
Nico shrugged. "Search me. I didn't have anything to do with it this time. Maybe its just your thick skull. And yeah, I jumped in after you."
Boromir raised an eyebrow. "Aragorn didn't try to stop you?"
Nico snorted. "He tried"
Boromir gave a short laugh and raised himself up before turning serious. "Just now, I had a vision. Ten thousand orcs are marching to Helms Deep."
Nico's eyes widened." Ten thousand? We barely have seven hundred men who can fight!"
Boromir nodded. "Lorien told me help was coming, but we must slow down the orcs to give them more time to arrive."
Nico frowned and looked down. "Two Men against ten thousand orcs? What could we do?"
Boromir thought about it. He stood up and brushed the dirt and earth off his body, then an idea sparked in his mind. Slowly, he turned towards Nico. "Nico. In the Mines, and just now, you have power over earth and stone?"
Nico looked at him, confused. "Yeah, I'm a son of Hades. It's real tiring, though. I can cause earthquakes too, but I need a looong nap first."
Boromir grinned and grabbed Nico's shoulders. "Now, Helms Deep is a mountain fortress, surrounded on both sides by rock cliffs."
Nico's eyes twinkled mischievously. "I see what you mean."
Boromir laughed. "Let's go make life miserable for some orcs."
Nico made a raised earth platform for them to return to where the attack had taken place and summoned skeletal horses, then they rode off to plan their ambush. Those orcs probably wouldn't know what hit them.
=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=
Annabeth
Osgiliath was going to be a war zone. Orcs waited on the west bank of the Anduin, who were trying to take it to control the bridge. Annabeth had analyzed the city immediately upon reaching it, and understood it's strategic significance. It was the only bridge big enough to carry an army across the Anduin river, and a direct line into Gondor. Captain Faramir was busy surveying the battlefield, trying to come up with a strategy, but even she could see this battle was heavily slanted in the orcs's favor. From what she had seen, the rangers operated on stealth, hit-and-run and ambush tactics, very effective in forests and woodlands, but in this city? They were going to be outmaneuvered very soon. The rangers had separated, as per usual, but in this city, where there were very few places to hide from, they were going to be easy pickings. They were heavily outnumbered. From a quick glance, she knew the rangers to be less than five hundred men at the most, while there seemed double, almost triple the amount of orcs on the other side of the river.
The situation wasn't looking very good at all, and the fact that Faramir had Frodo at his mercy made it even worse. Annabeth didn't know what Faramir would do. When she had met him, she had pegged him as a honorable man, from the way his subordinates treated him, and the way he commanded them. He was also fair and reasonable, right until the moment when he saw the ring. She supposed the cursed thing had this effect on everybody. Frodo had told her nothing about what had happened with Boromir, but she had guessed enough. Somehow the Ring had gotten to him, and he must have tried to get it from Frodo. From then, Faramir had seemed undecisive, battling mind against heart. Annabeth felt sure that given time to think it over himself, he would have released them, but the pressure of having to defend the city had swayed him. Now, she realized that she couldn't predict what Faramir would do. Men could change very suddenly when faced with war and fear, she had seen it firsthand. With the Ring so close by, would Faramir be able to resist it's lure?
The whole situation was tense. Rangers were hiding behind pillars, bows at the ready. A regiment of orcs slowly marched out from West Osgiliath. Annabeth's eyes widened as she saw Faramir's plan. To ambush them as they came across! She had to stop them, or it would be carnage. "Captain Faramir! Captain Faramir!" She called desperately.
Faramir turned to glare at her, making a motion with his hands to keep quiet.
"Faramir! This plan is doomed to fail! Your rangers won't be able to win like this!" Faramir motioned to one of his men, who started to take Annabeth away to the back of the lines. "You must listen to me! The orcs will swarm you, and all of you will be overwhelmed! FARAMIR!" Too late, she was pulled back and thrown roughly against the wall, where Frodo and Sam were huddled together miserably. She cursed under her breath. If they stayed here with the rangers, they were going to die. It was up to her to save themselves. The rangers attention was still firmly fixed on the opposite bank. Good. Quietly, she pulled at her bonds. Ropes, good rope. The knots were strong too, tied by experienced men. Her knife, if she could reach it, was safe in her boot. She turned to the two hobbits. Frodo was shivering, his fingers shaking in their bonds, trying to grasp the ring on his neck, while Sam was doing his best to make Frodo as comfortable as possible. Unfortunately, their weapons had been taken by the Rangers.
She wiggled around and tried to get her bound feet near Sam's hands. "Sam, my knife is inside my boot. Can you reach it?"
Sam nodded and fumbled for a minute, before bringing out the knife triumphantly in his hands. It was a classic escape, done hundreds of times on tv, yet still surprisingly effective. Once her hands were free, she sliced off the ropes as best as she could, trying to leave it in one piece as far as possible. Rope was always useful, after all. After that, she quietly cut Frodo and Sam's ropes, whispering to them to get up to safety. She would try to find a way to do…something, at least. And fast. The orcs were coming. She could feel the rangers tensing up. She was running out of time. Now if she had her backpack, there would be some Greek Fire inside, but it had been taken too, and she didn't know where it was now. She would have to improvise.
She crept up the stairs, searching desperately for something, anything to help with. There wasn't much. Osgiliath was basically in ruins. She found a catapult by the walls, but it had rotted with age. A pile of rusted swords lay discarded near the wall. There were some still-intact barges floating on the river nearby, but there wasn't much inside. Annabeth was starting to panic. She was running out of time! Not for the first time, she truly wished Percy had come with her. Not only would he have been a great comfort to be near and the best of companions, he could have waved his hands and used the Anduin to wash the orcs away. The River! That's it!
A plan formed of desperation came into her mind, and she took it. Running towards the barges, she quickly made a few adjustments as fast as she could, her mind furiously calculating the maths behind the motions. A hasty look back revealed the orcs were already halfway across the river. A hail of arrows flew to meet them from East Osgiliath, dropping dozens, but it didn't seem to make much of a difference. She couldn't find any torches, so she snatched up pieces of wood on the ground and dipped them in a jar still half full of oil. The barges were still too light. Spotting a reasonably sized rock nearby, and with still some oil left in the jar, she hurriedly finished the rest of her preparations. It was done. She raised her knife and sliced through the ropes holding the three barges.
The barges, now loaded with rocks to make them heavier, and with her improvised torches attached to their prow, started off, carried by the raging current of the river. The weight of the rocks made the barges slow at first, but then it soon worked in Annabeth's favor, building up momentum and going faster and faster, straight towards the line of orc barges across the river. Half of them never knew what hit them. A few managed to spot the three flaming barges coming towards them at full speed, but before they could do anything more than gape and gesticulate at their leaders wildly, the flaming barges crashed into their line, the fire immediately catching to their own barges, leaping among the line like a wild beast. The heavy barges splintered as they hit the line, but their weight and momentum meant that the orc barges suffered the most damage. More than ten barges were taken out with her improvised plan, and the rest that remained on West Osgiliath didn't seem very eager to move forward, wary of what may come next. She felt the familiar rush of a perfectly executed plan flow through her. Now, time to check on Frodo and Sam.
But as she got closer to where she had come from, horror filled her heart. She had been too slow. She had taken out lots of barges, sure, but at least two barges had landed before her plan had worked, and now the Rangers were in a pitched battle. Without the advantage of their usual tactics, the rangers managed to hold the orcs off, yet they were disoriented. They had no idea of how to fight in a group. Even as she watched, an orc drove a spear right through the body of Captain Faramir's second in command, Madril, twisting it cruelly. Faramir sliced the orcs heads clean off, his eyes blazing with fury. Finally, the battle was over. Thankfully, the rangers had only lost three men in the fight, though a lot of them had wounds to tend to. It could have been a lot worse.
Turning, Faramir noticed her standing unbound, watching them, and his eyes narrowed. Somehow, Annabeth was unafraid. Faramir grabbed her wrist and looked her in the eye. They had a stare down, grey eyes to grey. Annabeth saw sadness, fear and anger in his eyes, but also a new respect. Faramir slowly let go of her wrist. "Thank you." He said quietly. "I was a fool not to listen earlier."
She resisted the urge to agree, focusing on the problem at hand. She returned his gaze. "That was only a temporary setback for them. They will be back soon. Now if you'd listen to me, I can help to keep you safe. I am a strategist. I understand tactics, and I will tell you this. Using the same tactics you use in Emyn Muil and Ithilien will not get you far here in Osgiliath. This is a whole new battlefield, and you need to learn its rules. Do you understand me?"
Faramir frowned, but his mouth twitched at the sides. "Go on."
Annabeth nodded. "I will need my supplies back, then. We have to make a plan quickly, before the orcs have a chance to regroup."
Faramir agreed. "Let us talk then. What would you have us do?"
Annabeth pulled out a piece of paper from her backpack and twirled a pen between her fingers, taking a deep breath.
=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=
As predicted, the orcs attacked again at night. Under cover of darkness, when they would be strongest. But Faramir's men had been busy. With eighty of Faramir's best archers hiding behind a parapet, Annabeth and Faramir waited. Frodo and Sam had been put in a room that was still mostly intact and given food and water, to protect them during the fighting. Now, as they watched, the barges were slowly making their way across the river again. It was too dark to aim, but Annabeth was prepared for that. She gave Faramir a quick nod. Faramir nodded in assent, and whispered to his men. "Alpha Squadron, arrows ready." In a swift and silent movement, the arrows were nocked and aimed in the general direction of the river.
Annabeth turned to the ten men by the temporary catapults. "Go!" The men lit torches and set them to bales of flammable material collected from around the city, and then the others drew their swords and sliced the ropes holding the catapults. Two flaming balls flew in a graceful arc over the river, lighting up all the orcs on the river below, who snarled at the sudden light. In that instant, eighty bows were released, and eighty arrows found their mark, dropping dozens of orcs into the river. In an instant, they reloaded again and fired a second volley, killing yet more. Then the balls hit the water and were extinguished. Osgiliath was in darkness again.
But not for long. "Torches!" Annabeth called. A whole line of torches suddenly flared to life, just as the orcs got onto the shore, throwing a harsh yellow glare onto East Osgiliath and blinding the orcs.
Faramir drew his sword. "Alpha squadron, Arrow rain!" In a practiced maneuver, forty archers stood and released a new volley on the still-blinded orcs, then knelt to reload, while the other forty stood and fired. Together, they sent a relentless barrage of shafts towards the enemy. Finally, the orcs wised up and headed for the cover of the pillars. Bad mistake. "Beta squadron, attack!" From the pillars where they had been hiding, one hundred swordsmen ran out and charged the orcs, slashing and cutting their way through. None of the orcs made it through. But what the orcs lacked in intelligence, they made up for in sheer numbers. More and more orcs swarmed up the river banks, and Alpha squadron could only do so much. Annabeth called for the other three squadrons to attack, each man killing as many as possible then retreating before they were found out. Carefully positioned traps of falling rocks and ruins incapacitated many more orcs. But they were tiring. Annabeth saw the three squadrons on the ground start taking casualties, and ordered them to retreat.
By now, the orcs had located her and pegged her as the commander, and were heading in their direction now. This was going to be a very hard fought battle indeed. Annabeth recalled Squadrons Beta, Gamma and Delta and they fell back to their new positions. As they tired, Annabeth called for Zeta Squadron to replace Alpha squadron, and the fight continued. Gradually, the orcs drew closer, and bows were thrown aside in favor of knives and swords. The orcs advanced closer, but Annabeth had one last trick up her sleeve. The orcs drew within twenty feet. Annabeth sucked in a breath. The lead orc stepped on a particular loose flagstone…and activated the two jars of Greek fire buried underneath. Half of the orc squadron was blown sky high in an explosion of green, and the resulting explosion, just like Annabeth calculated, shook free enough rocks to bury another quarter of the orcs. Now there were only less than two hundred orcs left. Faramir had a fierce smile on his face as he yelled. "ALL SQUADRONS, ATTACK!" Victory was near at hand.
And then everything went wrong.
SHRIEEEK! A terrible scream split the air, like the cry of death itself. Heavy thuds beat through the air. A gigantic outline with bat wings and a long neck whooshed overhead. The heavy whoosh of the wings extinguished the torches still burning. The world was plunged into sudden darkness once again. Annabeth's heart plummeted. Faramir froze in place, his features locked in an expression of fear. The rangers backed away a few steps, crying out with fear. Sudden despair seized them, and only their devotion to their captain kept them from throwing down their weapons and running.
The beast flew overhead again, and to Annabeth it seemed as though the world had suddenly grown so much colder. SHRIEEEK! Annabeth shivered and turned to Faramir. Faramir seemed unable to move. His fingers were twitching on his bow. Annabeth growled and looked around desperately. The beast thrived in darkness. They needed more light!
The beast alighted briefly, landing on the catapults they had been using and smashing them into kindling, then taking off again. A man suddenly screamed in terror as it was snatched up by the Nazgul, and then his screams were suddenly cut off. Faramir's men gasped in horror, and more than a few were already putting their weapons on the floor. Annabeth grabbed Faramir's arm, "Faramir, if you do not keep them together, your men will all die today. Make them regroup and tell them to head for the cover of the pillars. Get Alpha squadron and Beta squadron's bows on the ready. When I light this place up, be ready to shoot." She hissed in his ear.
Shakily, Faramir nodded. "ALL SQUADRONS, FIND COVER, BUT STAY TOGETHER!" He screamed. The rangers scattered, just as the beast made another pass. Faramir fired blindly into the night, but he didn't hit anything. Annabeth ran towards the direction of the smashed catapults, and fumbled in her backpack, trying to find her lighter. Giving up, she gingerly opened a jar of greek fire and hastily calculated the amount needed to set the wood alight and not blow a hole in the ground. A small amount of greek fire glowed green as it soaked into the wood. Praying that her calculations were correct and she wouldn't be blown up, Annabeth backed away and threw a rock towards the pile of wood.
Boom!
Perfect. The small explosion managed to set the wood on fire, and finally, the light flared up again, just as the fell beast flew overhead. The beast shrieked again, it's eyes not used to the sudden light. Arrows flew straight for it, but bounced off its hard underbelly. Suddenly, Annabeth caught sight of a horrifying scene. Frodo slowly limped towards the beast, his eyes milky white, his arm outstretched, ready to put on the ring. Sam was desperately trying to stop him. Out of the corner of her eyes, another figure ran forward to the two hobbits. Faramir. Annabeth knew she had to get there as fast as she could now.
Frodo put on the ring and vanished from sight. In the middle of the sky, the beast suddenly jerked its head in the direction of the ring and wheeled towards it, flying straight to Frodo. She finally reached the small group just as Sam tackled Frodo and forced him to pull the Ring off his fingers. Frodo snarled and fought back, but Sam held on grimly. Faramir drew his bow and arrow and faced the Nazgul, which was steadily coming closer. SHRIEEEK! The head of the beast stretched up the wall, its beady eyes staring at Faramir with malice, the black figure cackling evilly on its back. Faramir determinedly aimed for the creature's 'face', and released the string. The arrow flew straight…and went right through the creature's hood. It was unharmed.
"Foolish Mortals, You did not really think I could be destroyed by an arrow shaft?"The creature laughed mockingly. It sounded like nails being dragged over a blackboard. "I am a Nazgul, an Ulairi. I am immortal! You see how you have no hope now?" Faramir's hands went limp, and he stared at the creature, defeated. The creature laughed again.
Annabeth herself froze, chilled to the bone by that eyeless stare. For what seemed like hours, her heart stopped beating at the pure malice and evil the thing radiated. Waves of cold rushed over her. Faced with this, what could she do but despair? The thing was still laughing. In it's black hood, she could see the promise of a slow and torturous death, both for her, and for all her friends.
NO! She shrieked, anger filling her heart, fury washing away the fear. She would NOT allow that to happen. She whipped out her dagger from her belt and hurled it full strength into the void that was the creature's face. For a moment, it actually connected, and the creature's hands flew to its face, hissing in anger, but it didn't do any lasting damage, and the knife glittered as it fell to the ground below. But it had done it's work. Suddenly shaken out of his trance, Faramir shot her and admiring glance, then his eyes narrowed. He gazed up at the beast, pulled back his bow and fired. Every eye followed the shaft as it flew forward, and pierced the neck of the beast. The nazgul gave a final, hateful scream, and the beast fell into the river. The orcs, disheartened, retreated slowly. They had won. They had won.
=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=
"I realize now, what a burden the Ring is." Faramir finally spoke, his men gathered around him. He knelt and took Frodo's hand. "I have been a fool. In fact, it was probably the ring which drew the Nazgul to Osgiliath. I am sorry for my mistake. It seems we finally understand one another, Master Baggins."
Frodo nodded slowly. "Thank you, Faramir."
Faramir smiled. "My men will provide you with what you need for the rest of your journey. Dried fruit, waterskins, meat. I wish you good fortune on your quest, and may the Valar guide you to your destination." He turned to Annabeth, who was standing nearby. "Annabeth, the rangers of Ithilien are in your debt. You saved us all yesterday, not once, but thrice. Your plans saved us from what would have been a disaster for my men. Without them, I fear that far less of us will be standing here today. You were also instrumental in driving away the beast. I, and all the rangers thank you." As one, the group bowed to Annabeth, who felt herself blushing slightly. He then turned to Sam. "You are a stout halfling, Samwise. Take care of your master. He will need your loyalty and your strength in the coming days." Sam nodded, his face set.
The Rangers came forward, carrying their packs, which were laden with provisions, just as Faramir had promised. They were also gifted a map of Ithilien and its surrounding areas to aid them as much as they could, with walking sticks for the road. The men had even found Annabeth's knife where it had fallen the previous night and returned it to her. They were ready to leave.
"Annabeth." She turned as she heard her name being called. Faramir strode forward, carrying something spherical shrouded in a cloth. "My men found this in the abandoned tower. What do you make of it?"
Annabeth unwrapped the cloth to find a glass ball. However, as she held it in her hands, it seemed to wake. Lights swirled in its depth. Faramir's men backed away, uttering cries of surprise. As she held it in her hands, she suddenly found that she could see other places in Middle Earth! For the first time, she gazed upon Amon Hen once again, her gaze swept over the plains of Rohan, which she hadn't seen before. She saw Lothlorien again, but she couldn't see inside. Suddenly, something seemed to click in place, as if the sphere had aligned with something else, and her heart stopped. Inside the ball, she saw a very familiar face. She couldn't speak.
"A..Ann…Annabeth?"
"P…Percy?"Her eyes widened as she saw him staring at her with a similar expression of shock. Then another face came into her field of vision. "Thalia?"
"Annabeth! You're alright!" Percy breathed.
Her heart melted as she saw his worried expression."Of course I'm alright, Seaweed Brain" It felt so good to say that name again. "Captain Faramir seems to have understood now, considering Osgiliath was almost taken by the Nazgul."
"Osgiliath? Nazgul?!" Thalia butted in.
Annabeth smiled wanly, still recovering from her shock"It's a city on the banks of the Anduin, but enough of that. Where are you? Do you have a similar ball at your side?"
"We're in Isengard, in Rohan. And yes, Kelp Head's holding a crystal ball of some kind."Thalia answered. "Annabeth, we found Gandalf. He's alive!"
"Really? That's amazing news!" her voice turned somber. "Perce? Faramir told us Boromir was…dead. Is that true?"
"No…he's not. Nico managed to bring him back." Percy responded.
Annabeth gave a relieved smile. "It's so amazing to see you guys again, alive and well – hey! What? No!"As she spoke, it suddenly seemed as if the connection was broken. Once again, she could see other places, but she couldn't speak with others again. Her eyes felt wet.
Faramir slowly stretched out a hand. "May I?"
She put the heavy ball into his hand. He gazed at it reverently. "The palantir of Osgiliath. It's still here! This is a valuable find indeed!"
She nodded, her voice thick. She couldn't believe how close she had been, and suddenly she felt another keen pang of loss. "Keep it. We're…leaving now. Farewell, Faramir."
Faramir smiled sadly, and they shook hands. "May our paths meet again, Annabeth."
Annabeth smiled at the two hobbits, who were still waiting, and together they set off Eastwards again. They had a job to finish, then she could see Percy again.
Unknown to them, a thin, skulking creature slipped after them, snarling and muttering curses under its breath.
=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
I must say, I really liked writing Annabeth's part. The part with the barges I just came up with on the fly, right after I typed the word river, then the plan sprung up in my mind.
You know the deal! Leave a review if you can, for nothing brightens up my day as much. I really hope you guys liked this chapter too, and I am really sorry for leaving you hanging for that long. Life can really get in the way sometimes, but I swear on the River Styx, and also Pinkie Promise that I will see this story to the very end.
If you forgive me, leave a review! :P
PJCrazy signing out