I'm really sorry, it took me so long to update, but I had a lot to do and I wanted the chapter to be a good one (I'll try to have the next one ready as soon as possible!)
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8. To The Black Gate
So the Spartans marched with the host of the free people of Middle-earth to the Morannon. Their bright red cloaks stood out against the green of the Rohirrim, the grey of the Dúnedain, the silver and black of the Gondorians and the blue of the people of Dol Amroth.
Day after day they marched and as they came further north, the land became more desolate.
The sky was full of grey clouds and the sun was shrouded in mist.
Slowly, a feeling of despair begann to creep on the men.
A harsh shriek sounded above them and Aragorn looked up.
"Nazgul. They are watching us."
Leonidas, too, had seen the winged creatures.
"What are they?", he asked.
"They were once kings of men. Sauron's dark magic corupted them and now they are wraiths, trapped between the world of the living and the dead. They are Sauron's most feared servants, for they are almost impossible to kill.", said Aragorn.
The Spartan king risked another glance at the sky. Two black shapes were circling high above them and just then another shriek sounded through the quiet twilight.
Leonidas repressed a shudder. These were foul creatures indeed.
Closer and closer they drew towards the Black Gate of Mordor and already they had lost some men. A few days ago, Aragorn had sent the faint hearted back to guard the roads of Ithilien. Some of the men from Gondor, Dol Amroth and Rohan had turned back then, but not a single one of the Dúnedain or the Spartans.
Now they were approaching the Black Gate. It guarded the only pass through the dark and steep mountains surrounding Mordor and was bordered by two high towers. The gate itself looked uninviting and gloomy with its dark and sharp metal panelling.
Aragorn led his men a bit away from the Gate and they made camp at the foot of the grey hills to the north-east of the Morannon. It was a quiet and subdued camp and they trippled the guards.
Leonidas was staring into the flames of the small campfire. Tomorrow would be the decisive battle.
The irony of the situation did not escape his notice that they would now fight at the Black Gate, when, just some days ago, they had defended the Hot Gates. Only this time, they would not be the defenders, they would be the ones to attack.
Or maybe not. From what Aragorn had told him, this Sauron was every bit as arrogant as Xerxes. Maybe he would make it easy for them and have his army march out, instead of just holding the gate.
'So let us hope, that our enemy is arrogant enough to fall for it… to make a rash decision out of pride', Leonidas thought.
If they were to arrange themselves around the foot of the hills, building an impenetrable phalanx… they could hold their position for days… maybe it would be long enough…
With a silent nod to his friend Dilios, the king of Sparta got up and went to find the Lord Aragorn. They should use the remaining hours to discuss strategy.