Chapter XXIV
The Defeat at RedHorn
The hobbits, Gandalf, and Gimli were relieved to hear the news that an escape had been found, forced by mere hands through the snow-choked path. Welcome, too, was the word that the Sun was shining somewhere in the world at that moment, for it was so cold and dark still on the mountain that one could easily forget that warmth and light existed at all. The strong Men returned, and without stopping for longer than the time it took to draw a deep breath, Boromir took up Pippin and set him on his wide shoulders.
Battling through the ice and snow had not daunted the Gondorian prince's will. Though obviously tired, he seemed as pleased and mirthful as Pippin had ever seen him, even in Rivendell. "Hold on to me, Master Peregrin," Boromir exclaimed. "I will need my arms still." He turned at once and swam through the drifts, shoving aside the snow, widening the track further for those who would follow.
Aragorn took Merry, who was far too cold to protest being picked up and clung gratefully to the ranger's back, his fists knotted in Aragorn's travel-coat. As they moved down the slope, Merry looked back toward were Gandalf had remained with his cousin and Sam. "You should t-take F-Frodo first, Strider. He's m--much more important than I."
Aragorn covered Merry's hands with one of his own, a smile breaking on his tired face. "I think that your friends would say that you are not unimportant, Meriadoc. Frodo is safe for now with Gandalf. Besides, I do not think that Sam would wish to wait behind whilst I took his master ahead, and I can carry but one hobbit at a time."
Legolas paced alongside the men as they struggled back down the path, vigilantly watching the snow-burdened cliffs overhead. Elves are the Firstborn children of Middle-earth and through their long lives, winding ever down through myth to history, gain and hone skills that to Men and other races seem almost magical. Legolas sensed that they were being watched; though he did not see the grey faced stone-thrower again, he could feel his presence, or the presence of others. However, no more boulders were hurled at them as they began their slow retreat.
Legolas worried a little about leaving Frodo on the mountain, even for a brief time. Only his complete faith in Mithrandir and the loyalty of Samwise convinced him to remain with Merry and Pippin when they arrived through the snow-gate. The Elf could not carry a hobbit and wield a bow, should it become necessary, and leaving the two young halflings alone was out of the question. Still, he fretted for the others and stood staring back at the mountain toward the shrinking forms of Aragorn and Boromir as they trudged once again back up the treacherous path.
Then a greater realization occurred to the Elf; Legolas remembered the hearty Dwarf was still with Frodo. As unlikable and stubborn as that one could be, the Elf knew that Gimli would do the task that he could not return to perform; the mountain Dwarf would see and hear as sharply as any Elf when sitting on the stone of his ancestral home, and his axe would labour to protect the Companions should battle become necessary.
Somewhat amazed at his own relief in the realization, Legolas turned and joined Merry and Pippin where they sat huddled together, and with mirth and confidence lent them his warmth.
⌂
Of the companions still waiting to descend from the mountain-side, only one seemed reluctant to make the descent. Burdened with extra packs and a muttering Dwarf, Bill the pony shied as Gandalf tried to lead him down the beaten track. Only when Boromir went ahead with Sam clinging to his back would the beast budge. The gentle-hearted hobbit clucked to the pony and coaxed him with encouraging words, until Bill grudgingly obeyed. Aragorn followed with Frodo. They all moved slowly, for the two men were very tired.
Gimli was muttering because he was not happy. How was he to wield his axe if danger crept upon them, perched as he was among the baggage like a sack of flour? He kept his eyes on the ridge of stone above, conscious of malignant eyes upon them.
"Yes, my good Dwarf, I feel them, too," Gandalf said quietly, as Gimli twisted yet again to cast his glance upward. The wizard was walking just ahead of Bill, holding the pony's lead rope. "I think as long as we are leaving their territory, that they will not cause us more harm."
Gimli nodded and let his muttering subside. He hoped that Gandalf was correct, for there would be little any of them could do-- axe, sword, or bow-- against beasts of stone and ice.
Frodo tightened his arms around Aragorn's neck, turning his face out of the buffet of the wind. "W--what is it, Aragorn? What has put Gimli so ill at ease?" Now that they were moving Frodo felt less cold, and he became more aware of his surroundings. "Is there danger that the ice on the cliff will fall on us?"
"I think that is unlikely to happen, Frodo," Aragorn said. "Yet if it does, it would be very bad news for us indeed. Still, the snow will fall whether we would have it do so, or no. It seems better for us to be away from it now. Hold on tightly; we are almost there."
As they passed through the wall of snow through which Boromir and Aragorn had beaten their gate, Frodo saw his two young cousins waiting with Legolas. They were sitting off of the track where the snowdrift blocked most of the wind now howling down the mountain after them. Boromir had just lowered Sam to his feet and Gandalf had halted Bill so that Gimli could dismount, when a rock came bouncing down the mountain-path, narrowly missing Aragorn and Frodo. The soft sighing sweep of snow grew suddenly into a roar of avalanche, and the whole of the cliff-face seemed to detach and fall on the way they had just came. The snowdrift collapsed upon them all like a wave cresting at hightide, and all the companions were buried in the fall. A few stones rained down after the roar had subsided to an echo, chasing down the valley like a grumble of thunder.
⌂
The fall of the cliff seemed to occur in slow motion, and Legolas reacted swiftly. He shouted a warning and covered the small bodies of Merry and Pippin with his own, trying to shield them from the weight of the falling ice. The cold crystal sand filled their eyes and mouths and blacked out the sky. The air was pressed from their lungs as if they were being squeezed.
Legolas fought upward through the freezing drift, each hand full of a hobbit's tunic. He burst though the snow, shaking his head to clear the ice from his face. Merry and Pippin he dragged to the surface, where they coughed and gasped for breath. Looking around, there was only a smooth waste of snow where all their companions had just been standing. Beyond the path only a few feet the void yawned, still gulping the icy wind and falling snow.
Feeling the spurs of panic, Legolas scrambled toward where he had last seen Aragorn and Frodo. Without heed of dignity or practicality, he began to dig, clawing at the snow with his bare hands. Merry and Pippin struggled toward him to help, but before they had moved more than a few feet, Boromir popped out of the drift right in front of them, shocking them into shouts. He had Samwise by the collar and hauled him out of the snow, setting him on top of the flow.
"Stay here!" he commanded, and he burrowed toward where the path had been, toward the now-moving mound that was possibly Gandalf, Gimli, and Bill the pony.
Legolas's desperate hands found the corner of a frozen green cloak, and he redoubled his efforts until he freed Frodo from the snow. The hobbit gasped for air as the Elf uncovered his face, and then the hobbit was suddenly thrust upward, for Aragorn was beneath him, lifting him toward the surface. Legolas took Frodo's hands and helped him free, then reached down and took Aragorn's arm in a firm grip. The man wriggled his way out of the burrow, Frodo tugging on the straps of Aragorn's pack, to help what little he could.
Gimli found air again by holding on to Bill's tail. The little pony did not like being buried in the snow, and he fought his way to the top of the drift with fury and energy that none of the companions (save Sam) would have given his credit for. Gandalf appeared, looking more white than grey with a coating of snow on his garments and beard. He caught Bill's rope before the pony could injure himself, struggling in the deep snow.
"Enough!" Gimli shouted back at the mountain, and the grey faces of cool granite leered down at the companions. There was more ice and snow to fling, but for now, the spirit of Caradhras seemed satisfied that they would not trespass again. "Enough! We are departing as quickly as we may!"
Slowly but eagerly, the companions struggled through the snow; Legolas lifted Pippin and Gandalf took Merry, Gimli still clinging to Bill's thick tail. Only a short way did they have to trek yet, for Legolas had reported truly; not far down the path the snow became quite shallow and passable. But the way up the mountain was now choked with ice, snow, and probably stones as well. There would be no going back that way, even if Spring arrived that day and melted the disposition of Redhorn and its evil-tempered weather.
The hobbits were set upon their feet and they continued on somewhat swifter. Though now they were all weary and sore for their trials, they were eager to get off of the mountain and find a safe place to rest. The place where they had been at the beginning of the previous evening was visible through the now-clear air, and the sun was breaking up the clouds overhead, though little of Her warmth could reach them yet. Down below, in the air between them and the distant glades, circling black dots moved about; the birds were waiting.
They had no choice but to continue down the mountain. Each companion now bore a heavy burden, in addition to their leaden limbs and frozen faces: they had been defeated.
