Disclaimer: See chapter 1.
Chapter 2: The Storm Is Rising
The spring went by, mostly in dull monotone. Training, inspections and days off followed each other in a steady chain. Ereg was most of the time bored, but did his best as it was best not to draw the attention of officers. On Wednesday evenings and Sundays he sometimes went with Nárion, and had good time chatting with his friend and telling stories to Dilthwen. He met Nárion's sister the next week after he had first followed Nárion, and nearly every week after that. Riliel was quite a pretty woman, small and black-haired as her brother. She had blue eyes, which seldom seemed to rest on one thing more than a few seconds. Ereg no longer wondered from where Dilthwen had got her quick temper and lively manners. Riliel seemed to be careworn, but still quite hopeful about the future. Only when she remembered her late husband did her eyes fill with tears. She was very pleased that Ereg wanted to look after Dilthwen with Nárion.
"She's such a little squirrel, always running about. My brother sometimes has difficulty to keep her in eyesight. It's very good of you. You must be a very good friend to Nárion."
When Lótessë drew near its end, Ereg told his parents about Nárion and his relatives. His parents were good-hearted and invited them one Sunday to a visit. Nárion and Riliel didn't want to come at first, but Ereg persuaded them at last. When they walked towards Ereg's home in the northwestern part of the city, Riliel told him:
"Mind you, I only accepted because you asked so nicely. I do not ask for alms and will not accept them, however rich your parents are."
Ereg nodded, a bit worried about his father's behaviour. His mother instinctively knew how to treat people well, but his father could sometimes be annoyingly patronizing. His fears were unfounded, however. As they came to the large door, they saw Ereg's parents standing in the doorway. His father stepped closer and greeted them with a bow, his hands crossed on his chest, as was the custom of Gondor. He said in a polite manner:
"Well met, honoured guests! Corchion in your service. This is my wife Ylwen. Welcome to my house."
He shook hands with Nárion and Riliel as Ereg introduced them. Corchion said to Nárion, as they stepped inside:
"It is a pleasure finally to meet one of my son's comrades. I am happy that he has such good friends as he has told."
They sat to the table in the dining hall and a good dinner was served. Riliel seemed embarrassed, when Dilthwen played with her food and chattered constantly, but Ylwen only smiled gently at the child, and the men were so deep in their conversation that they didn't even notice. Ereg was very pleased when he saw that his father and Nárion got along admirably with each other. His mother and Riliel seemed also like each other and Ylwen was instantly charmed by the little girl.
When the dinner drew to a close and the wine was served, Ereg started to worry again. Riliel had said she wouldn't accept alms, but his parents had hinted that they would give a little present to her. What could it be? Hopefully not money. Ereg knew, however, that at least his mother was more tactful than that. When the siblings and Dilthwen finally were leaving, Ylwen suddenly exclaimed:
"Oh, I nearly forgot! Wait a minute, Riliel, we have something for you." Then she walked out of the room. Riliel opened her mouth to protest, but Nárion signed her to be silent. After a few moments Ylwen returned, carrying a bundle. She opened it and showed a finely-made doll, which she gave to Dilthwen.
"Ereg said that your daughter likes dolls very much, so I took the liberty of buying one. It should last a few years. I hope you will accept this little gift."
Riliel looked first at Dilthwen, who was instantly in love with her new toy. Then she raised her eyes to Ylwen, smiling.
"It is wonderful. She has many dolls, but they all are very worn. It was very thoughtful of you, thank you. Dilthwen, thank kind Ylwen!"
Dilthwen sprang on her feet, beaming.
"Thank you, madam! I will name her Star-shine."
Then the siblings went out, Ereg staying behind because his father wanted to speak to him. Corchion laid his hand on Ereg's shoulder.
"They are charming people, thank you for introducing them. But I must ask: Do you have any designs towards that Riliel? She's very lovely and seemed to like you."
Ereg was very confused, he hadn't even thought about the whole thing from that viewpoint. He stammered:
"Uh... I haven't thought it like that. She's the sister of my friend, that's all. But what if I had any... designs?"
His father sighed.
"Well, you are a grown man now. I won't interfere with your choice, if you choose wisely. Riliel isn't that kind of bride I intended for you, but she has a good heart, I deem. Do what you will."
Then he paused, but continued soon.
"I have another thing to say to you. It is said that the Easterlings are again on the move and that their attack is to be expected any day."
"Father, it is said so for many a month. They will attack eventually, but until then nothing can be helped by worrying."
"I know, but this time they are said to be stronger in numbers than ever before. I don't tell you to be a coward, but remember – you are our only child. Fight with honour, remembering your oaths, but don't waste your life needlessly. Go now with my blessing."
Ereg embraced his parents and went out. He was surprised when he saw that Nárion, Riliel and Dilthwen waited for him outside.
"I thought you went home already!"
Nárion answered:
"Well, we thought you perhaps would want walk with us home and then go the garrison with me. And Dilthwen wants you tell her the tale of the Snowman and Dwarves." Dilthwen exclaimed:
"Yes, you tell it so well! Please!"
Ereg laughed and complied. The siblings conversed in a low voice, as Ereg recounted the adventures of the Snowman in the dark halls of Dwarven King to the avidly listening girl.
After an hour they came to Riliel's house. Nárion and Dilthwen went inside, but Riliel remained with Ereg. She offered her hand to him.
"Thank you for this evening! Your parents were very nice and Dilthwen had great time. So did I. I will eagerly wait our next meeting."
Then, as if she had said too much, she turned her eyes downwards. Ereg felt his blood flowing to his cheeks. He took her hand and answered:
"I hope it will be soon. Are you free next Sunday?"
Riliel answered in affirmative, looking Ereg in the eyes. Her gaze was steady for once, and Ereg felt better than ever in his life. The woman seemed so beautiful in the light of rising moon. He reminded himself that she was a widow, had a child and was nearly five years older than he. But at that moment it didn't matter at all. His heart beat furiously and he feared she would notice it. He managed to stammer:
"Uh, well, until next Sunday then. Good night!"
Then he abruptly walked away, leaving Riliel standing quite confused. He stopped behind the next corner and breathed deeply. His behaviour seemed childish to him and he cursed himself for being like a love-stricken boy. After all, he had known Riliel only for nearly two months. Besides, she was from a much lower class than he. He had practically no experience with women, also. Those thoughts, however, seemed only cowardly excuses. He gazed to the moon and smiled despite himself. After a few minutes Nárion turned around the corner and stopped next to him. He looked a little bewildered.
"Did you quarrel with my sister? She was very silent and thoughtful, and you left in such a hurry. Strange, I thought you were friends."
Ereg regained his composure and answered:
"Oh, we had only a little chat and I fear she misunderstood something I said. It was nothing serious, I'll explain that to her when we meet again."
"If you say so," Nárion shrugged as they started to walk towards the garrison.
When they came to their quarters, they saw that the rest of the squad were playing cards. Bruidir, a muscular, middle sized corporal from eastern Osgiliath, shouted to Ereg:
"Hey, come to play! That fatty Manceleb wins all the time, maybe you can beat him."
Ereg declined, but Nárion was in a second seated at the table. As Ereg took his uniform off, he saw Manceleb once again throwing his cards on the table.
"Nine again! Guys, pay up!"
The others groaned and pushed some coppers towards him. Ereg laid down on his back, staring at the ceiling. The players shouted "eights" and "nines" and the clink of copper coins was constant. But Ereg saw only a black hair and blue eyes and heard only Riliel's voice:
"I will eagerly wait our next meeting."
Slowly he wandered to the magical land of dreams.
--
The next day and a few more Ereg walked like in a dream. He had a small smile on his face even during rigorous exercises, and endured stoically the rebukes of ensign Belranc and sergeant Gladhir.
On Wednesday morning Belranc was raging to him again. He had fumbled pathetically in a sword-handling practice and almost notched the blade. Also in spear exercise his thrusts were feeble and his mind seemed to be elsewhere.
"Are you drunk or stupid, what? Had too much fun with a juicy wench, so you can't even lift a weapon, huh? When the Wild men come, you will be as useful as a pile of crap! They'll kill you like a kitten and that'll serve you right, you moron! I will myself laugh at your funeral! If you mess like that in the afternoon too, I'll cancel your Sunday leave! That teaches you to dream of wild nights, you lecher!"
Ereg was shocked. The threat of losing the Sunday leave was only too real. Every week some hapless fellows had to remain in garrison, cleaning barracks and doing guard duty. The thought chilled Ereg and sobered his rosy thoughts. After the noon-meal, when they had some drill and a short spear-throwing exercise he tried his best, earning a grudging approval of the ensign.
"We'll make you a soldier one of these days. Your leave is secured, for now."
During the rest of the week he was careful not to annoy Belranc or Gladhir. He tried to do everything perfectly, and the sergeant sneered:
"Seems you have found some motivation! Lust make wonders, I see!"
Nárion heard this and later asked Ereg:
"What did he mean? Is there anything true in that? You seemed to look very tenderly to my sister."
Ereg was embarrassed. He answered:
"He draws only his own dirty conclusions. Only one thing is true: I will meet Riliel next Sunday. I like her very much. But don't be worried, I won't stain her honour."
"You have better not, or you'll answer to me for that. I know that every brother says this, but I'll beat you to a pulp if you harm her. She is my only relative, with Dilthwen. I trust you, don't betray me now!"
Ereg offered his hand to Nárion.
"I won't, I swear."
--
Finally Sunday came and Ereg was able to leave the garrison, well groomed and his boots shining. He walked with a painful limp, though. In Saturday afternoon they had played the customary football, and a corporal had kicked his knee hard. It was swollen and didn't bend very much, so the healer had recommended complete rest for a few days. Ereg nonetheless hobbled through the gate, for there was nothing that could have hindered him now. He stopped only to buy a few flowers from a woman who stood in a corner, offering flowers and cheap jewelry.
The journey took much longer than in the first time, but finally he was before the familiar door and knocked. Nárion had left even earlier than he for the city, promising to look after Dilthwen so that he and Riliel could be alone. He had, however, severely warned Ereg before he left. It was quite unnecessary, though, as Ereg was no lady hunter. Now he stood on the paved street, almost crushing the violets in his nervous hand. The door opened and he saw Riliel, smiling shyly and clad in her best clothes. The gown was plain but very pretty to the eyes of Ereg. In his grey uniform he felt like an old jackdaw beside a lively nightinggale. He greeted a bit clumsily:
"Good day, I mean hello, Riliel! I brought you some flowers."
With that he offered the somewhat crushed violets to Riliel. She took them and laughed merrily, but a little nervously.
"They are beautiful! Well, what if we took a little walk? The day is so sunny and wonderful!"
Ereg forgot his aching knee for a moment and complied enthusiastically. After a few furlongs, however, his limp worsened again and he grimaced in pain. Riliel said:
"Oh, forgive me, I did not realize you are hurt! Shall we turn back?"
"No, it's aching only a little. Let's walk on and find a place where we can sit down. It will be all right then."
They found the same garden where Ereg had met Nárion and Dilthwen and sat on a bench. They were silent for some time, looking over Anduin where the eastern Osgiliath bathed in sunlight. Riliel seemed to be calm, but Ereg's thoughts raced. He wondered what he should do or say. Gathering his courage, he took without a word Riliel's hand in his own. She pressed it gently, smiling. Finally Ereg found his words and started a foolish conversation about weather. Soon the talk drifted elsewhere, though, and they spent a few pleasant hours talking just about everything. When noon came, they rose and seeked a little tavern, where they ate, still conversing merrily. Ereg couldn't tear his eyes from Riliel's fair face.
The day turned to evening all too quickly, and it was time to part. Before the door of her house, Riliel stopped and said to Ereg:
"This has been a wonderful day. After my husband died, I thought I would never feel like this again. You are so gentle, but also young and inexperienced. Can I trust your feelings to last, if you have any?"
"If I have any! This is the first time I am truly in love, but still I am sure you will be the only woman I will ever desire."
Riliel smiled.
"At least you can sound convincing. But think about it, would you be a father to Dilthwen? Would your parents approve, if, I emphasise IF, we decided to marry?" Ereg answered vehemently, pressing her hand against his heart:
"Oh, don't worry, my love! My father already said me he will accept my decision when I take a wife. And my mother, she liked you and even adored Dilthwen. And as for Dilthwen, I will love her like my own child, because she is your daughter."
Riliel lowered her eyes and pondered for a while. Then she looked Ereg in the eyes.
"So be it then, for I love you. But I hope you won't regret your choice in the coming years."
Before Ereg could answer, she pressed a gentle kiss on his lips and hurried inside, leaving him standing there, his heart almost bursting from emotion.
--
He informed his parents next Wednesday, and they were delighted. Only his father had one reservation.
"Don't rush to marriage, my son. I know that your heart is true when you decide something, but you never know what can happen. Besides, the war is coming. Do you want to leave a grieving widow, maybe expecting a child, if you fall in battle?"
Ereg pondered this. He wanted to marry Riliel as soon as possible, although it was customary to be engaged for about a year before that. He knew, though, that his father was right. He answered:
"We will wait until I come back. Riliel will approve, I hope."
--
Corchion was indeed right. In the last day of Nárië came a message that the Easterlings were moving south of the Sea of Rhûn in great numbers. They were heading for west and moving as fast as they could. The King Ondoher himself had come to Osgiliath with the regiments of Anórien and other lands directly ruled by him. He inspected the Regiment of Osgiliath and was seemingly pleased. Ereg was impressed by the height and noble features of the King. He looked like he was invincible, such was his confidence and dignity. He spoke to the regiment briefly.
"My soldiers! In this hour of need, I expect that you do everything in power to stop the cruel enemy. Remember your mothers, your sisters and your wives! They must not be in the mercy of Easterlings! Remember the oaths you have taken! Flinch not, for the West shall not fall! The tide from the wide East has been stopped many times before. Now, soldiers, take up your arms and march into victory!"
Great banners were unfurled, their embroidery glittering in the rays of sun. Ereg felt his heart to swell with pride, as he drew his sword with others. A great cry rang all over the parade field:
"Long live King Ondoher!"
In the bright light of noon, two thousand swords and helms shone like a great fire.
--
The next day they had orders for march. As they were going to parade through Osgiliath, they were ordered to don their hauberks and full battle equipment. Shortly before noon the first companies marched through the garrison gate. The air was heavy, and grey clouds were gathering in the north. A thunderstorm was coming. Ereg sweated badly in his armour, but kept his head high as he marched through the streets. Nárion was next to him in the four-row line. There was much people watching them, cheering and throwing flowers on them. It seemed like the whole population if Osgiliath had crowded in the streets and balconies along their route. Amidst the noise Ereg's ears caught a high, familiar voice.
"Ereg! Nárion!"
The two turned their heads and saw Riliel standing in a corner, waving to them. She had tears in her eyes as she cried again:
"Take care of yourselves! I will wait for you, Ereg!"
Ereg would have answered, but suddenly a song was started ahead him and he joined in it:
Like fathers once in battle falling
have repelling struck the East,
so we, the taken oaths recalling,
make our ranks hold fast.
No greater joy we know
than to protect our land,
to defend its woods and fields,
for its safety and honour stand.
No fate can weaken our hand,
the tide of war must be blocked.
Our goal the safety of land,
its gates must be locked.
And if our sword breaks,
if once we fall in the field,
only glad that us makes
if only serve our country we did.
They marched on, past Riliel. Ereg and Nárion waved to her for the last time as they passed and were then lost among the grey tunics, steel helms and hauberks. She stood there, weeping, until the last soldier had passed. She watched the young, grim faces, some of which seemed very small and frightened under the helms. But she could only think of the features of her betrothed and her brother. In despair she saw the last row of sombre uniforms turn at a corner, only dust hanging in the air behind them. The first rumble of thunder was heard.
--
The rain started just after the regiment had crossed the bridge over Anduin. They marched through the city, the fierce water whipping their faces. Lightnings started to crackle and the streets were soon empty. After the city was behind them, they paused to take their armour off and put it in their backpacks. They were in a crossing of two roads, and saw other troops on the move along the northward route. Ereg recognised the green mantles of the Ithilien Regiment and heard the curses of the drivers of the pack carts. Slowly, like a great green centipede, the regiment passed them, the men looking dejected in the heavy rain. Along the march column officers rode, shouting orders and encouragements. Ereg heard their captain, Túrgoth, speaking to lieutenant Aiwenor sourly.
"I wonder why the colonel didn't purchase horses for us also. Even those green bastards have them!"
"Captain, I think the funds of the regiment are a bit low. We just had orders that only hopelessly broken equipment will be discarded. Even boots with no soles at all must be repaired, regardless of time required."
"Splendid! Fortunately the weapons are in good condition. How much spare equipment do you have with us?"
"Not much, captain. The boots and spare nails for them will last only for a week's march."
"Well, then some of the men have to go barefoot, when we return."
Then the captain commanded the company to move, because the road was now clear. The rain was somewhat lessening, but it didn't make the mood of the men any better. The march before them would be long.
--
They came out of Ithilien on the tenth day of Cermië. For two days they marched along the Ered Lithui, now slower because the men were tired and the enemy was expected to appear any day. On the twelfth day they were near the Gates of Mordor. The men looked in awe at the mighty battlements, as they ate their breakfast. But the gate was not a threat, and their eyes constantly wandered to the east. Shortly after noon, when they prepared to march again, a sentry shouted:
"Look to the East! A great cloud is rising from there!"
Ereg turned his head with the others and saw a yellow and brown cloud in the horizon. Higher and higher it rose, until it covered the whole eastern sky. He wondered what it was, when the captain cried:
"The enemy is coming! To arms, prepare for battle!"
As his voice rang, wind threw the first clouds of dust against their faces.