Chapter Nineteen

People were whispering, Estela noted. She was sure they mistrusted her. They were foolish if they trusted easily, so she couldn't fault them. Instead she kept to herself, biding her time until getting the work done.

Vorondo was upset. What it was, it troubled her that he would not open them. But she had told Gil-Galad and the other leaders that they should build a more secure base, complete with trenches and fortifications. When Amdir, king of Lothlórien had protested that it would take too much time with the Haradrim close by, Estela assured him that it would not and started to get busy with Vorondo, Maltariel, Fëapoldon and a number of her companions, while the others stood and kept guard and everyone else watched in amazement as sooner rather than later, a strong, advanced fortification was built that would be difficult if not impossible to impregnate by enemies but easily accessible to those that used it. She had designed it herself and was extremely glad of the work, after all, it kept people from staring at her for simply appearing out of nowhere, as it seemed, and from mistrusting her. Of course no one should trust her fully, but she was confident she could help them a great deal.

A number of scouts, including her most trusted one, named Alwion, hurried away to spy and bring news of the Haradrim's advance. Telperinquar was keeping a close watch on the Númenórean fleet and reporting on their advances every few hours via mirror communication. And soon she had a meeting with the other leaders in Gil-Galad's counsel tent.

She was glad to have done all the activity, she thought again as she entered. After all, it certainly broke the tension- the ice had melted slightly but not completely. She informed them all the news Alwion and Telperinquar had given her and the ones her spies on the Easterlings had provided her. They seem astounded.

"You are extraordinarily well-informed, my lady," Eärendur leader of the Elendili said. She smiled at him. "I have my sources and my own ways of gathering information. To know your enemy is to defeat them, whoever and wherever they are."

"Indeed," King Oropher said. His eyes never left hers. It would make her uncomfortable if she was a weaker spirit, she thought. But it seemed as if those eyes could see deep down inside her, right into her very soul.

As if he knew something- a secret that only she knew.

"So," Elrond said. "Shall we proceed?" He gave Estela a look that only she could see and interpret. Once again, it was: I hope you know what you're doing.

The maps before them pin-pointed the Haradrim's position and the miniature figurines represented everyone who would be in the battle.

"He's being clever," Estela remarked. Gil-Galad and Elrond raised an eyebrow. "Ar-Gimilzôr telling the Haradrim to fight here. He's a brilliant tactician and strategist. The plains outside of Perlargir are flat and expansive. Excellent for the massive Mûmakil, and for horses."

"Which is also excellent for us," Ælfnoð of the Éothéod. They were horse-lords after all.

"Yes," Estela admitted. "But with their giant Mûmakil…" she trailed off. "They have the advantage of brute strength, and they are able to cross great distances in very little time. Which means that to stop them, we would have to target the Mûmakil to stop them- and we have to do it quickly. And they are not easy to stop, especially when they are going in fast. Arrows are meaningless against a giant Mûmak. Spears would have to be used, which is a disadvantage because a spear is often a primary weapon and the owner would need to get it back."

"Yes," Gil-Galad agreed ruefully. His mouth twitched in an amused grin.

He was unusually calm and level-headed, Estela thought, even for a renowned warrior who had fought countless battles.

"Fortunately," Estela added. "We do have something that might help."

They all looked at her puzzled. "We have mounted crossbows but that would take a slower to reload and aim. So we have developed double-crossbows- weapons that when we first devised them- required the use of two archers or more. However, we developed them further and now they are mechanized and advanced enough to be pulled by lever- pulled by one person. The arrows they fire are, in this case, thicker and stronger, sharper and harder in edge. If we were fighting in places like the woods, they would be used to fire slimmer, finer arrows, but still with a deadly edge. The weapons are currently outside waiting for inspection."

It was only polite to offer them for inspection, even though she already tested them as well as designed them herself. They all looked at each other, incredulous by this new turn of events.

"But I think that should wait until afterwards," she continued. She turned to Gil-Galad. "My king."

Gil-Galad moved forwards and pointed in turn, to the figurines on the map, moving each of them.

"If what you say is true and they are positioned here," he said thoughtfully, "The Easterling cavalry on the left wing would hold our cavalries' charge," he said. He moved the cavalry pieces. "So we would have to go through numbers of expert horse-men, not an easy task." He calmly moved other pieces. "The Haradrim themselves would be at the centre. In front of their high commander, are ten-to-fifteen Mûmakil so their leader would be well-defended. Unfortunately the head of the snake is he, and to disorganise and defeat them, we need to capture or kill him. The right holds infantry and a few horse-men with long pikes to break us apart. This means that we have to do our job quickly. I have ensured my warriors have long pikes of their own, razor-sharp and sturdy. I have more available, it would be useful for infantry." He smiled. "Our phalanx is very powerful. But cavalries are easy to manoeuvre and as we all know, have the advantage of speed." He moved the pieces representing their combined forces.

"I propose that we place the cavalry on both sides, left and right," Gil-Galad said. "But we must also have cavalry behind them, in case- and this is very likely- we run into trouble."

"That's easy," Oropher remarked. "There are plenty of cavalry to go in those directions. It will act as a defensive in the last resort and as a surprise offensive."

"Yes," Gil-Galad said. "Our infantry could be left vulnerable and we do need that. But the second phalanx could also help. We are in fact outnumbered, however, and we run the risk of being out-flanked."

"Hmmm," Estela murmured. Everyone turned to her. "We could lead the cavalry to the right, towards the edge of their lines,"

"Yes," Gil-Galad sounded almost surprised. Really? Did he not think she was capable?

"This could draw their cavalry," Estela continued. "They would follow our cavalry and-" she looked straight into Gil-Galad's sapphire eyes. "It would draw them away from the centre."

"Yes," he breathed. "That's exactly what we could do." They stood there staring at each other. Gil-Galad's eyes were a burning blue, she thought. For once, she actually did feel uncomfortable and did not know what to think. In fact, she didn't even want to know.

Concealing her unease, she turned back to the table. "But what if they surround us?" she asked, more to distract him than, she secretly admitted, in real concern.

"We would have to charge quickly," Gil-Galad said softly.

His voice stroked her. She nodded, concealing everything well. They worked on everything for some time, before Celeborn suggested they go outside and see the mounted crossbows and double-crossbows for themselves and the arrows that went with them. Estela warned them, they could fire at long-range and cross great-distances.

"The Mûmakil have their eyes in the front," she advised them. "They are sizeable enough to see well, but from a great distance and in comparison to the rest of their body, they are quite small. However, as they are in front, this gives them a small chance of vulnerability and they are exposed." She stated loud and clear. "We can target them there. Behind the ears as well, it's their most vulnerable spot. No one needs to waste their spears. They will need them for later." They tried them eagerly. They actually seemed to enjoy themselves.

She felt Gil-Galad's eyes watching her from behind. She struggled not to squirm. No, he didn't know who she was, and yes, understandably, he would be curious, even suspicious, but was this really necessary. Masking her unease she turned to him.

"My king," she greeted. "Very impressive," Gil-Galad said smoothly and softly, approaching to stand beside her. He had a calmness to him that made her feel uneasy- although technically speaking this should reassure her. His blue eyes burned. "I must say you are more impressive than I had ever expected."

"Thank you, my king," Estela said cautiously. "My companions have trained long and hard. We have had plenty of experience together."

"Oh, not your companions." The king said pleasantly. "Yes, I find them admirable indeed, but I was speaking about you." His blue eyes twinkled with humour. "I didn't expect someone to back me up in counsel. Not everyone does. In fact, usually I had to reason with and even argue, but everyone seems to agree with you."

She struggled not to blush. She was not a blushing girl! "You are too kind," she said slowly, even more cautiously, fearfully wondering where this was leading to. "But your proposal was indeed excellent and well-reasoned. Why shouldn't they back you in counsel?"

Gil-Galad's mouth twisted in wry humour. "Probably because they either think that I'm a pompous king who thinks he's better than anyone else so they decide to contest me, or that I am a soldier, not a king in fact." He smirked.

"Well, that is unreasonable," Estela said surprised. "I would be indignant if they thought of and acted as if I were that- it is rude, surely."

"It's politics," Gil-Galad shrugged, bored. "And I'm used to it. In the end, it's them who've proved themselves to be the idiots, not me. So yes, I have the pleasure of annoying them and saying: 'I told you so.'"

Despite herself Estela laughed, startling them both. Gil-Galad smiled. "So you can laugh," he remarked casually. She stared at him. "Of course I can laugh. Although," she added pressing her lips together. "I rarely do. My life is not for laughter."

He stared at her. "Why do you do it then?" she knew what he was asking. "Surely glory cannot be worth that much. And you do not seem like the sort that need gold and precious gems." She shook her head. "No, I don't do it for payment." "What about glory?" "No, not for glory either." "Then what?" he asked, waiting.

She took a deep breath. "I do it because someone must." She said quietly. She looked him straight in the eye. It took all of her courage to meet his fiery blue eyes that so unnerved and intimidated her. "And because the world has suffered more than enough griefs as it is. There is no need to add more, but there is a need to heal and to save those that need it."

She gave him the honest- if not partial- answer. She felt compelled to do so, primarily because of everything going around them, but also because the shame of living in peace was too much to bear, when so much has happened, and mostly because of her kin. It might not be her fault, or any of her cousins, but was it fair if she should live in comfort and relative safety, when the kin of those that had been slain had suffered?

Her mind wandered off to Eluréd and Elurín- twins and brothers of Elwing, mother of Elrond. Sorrow threatened to overwhelm her within, even though she had never met them, never even heard of them until the Sack of Doriath- the Second Kinslaying. Her uncles Tyelcormo, Carnistir and Curufinwë had died there, along with Dior King of Doriath and his wife Nimloth. The vengeful servants of her uncles had escorted the twins Eluréd and Elurín, sons of Dior, somewhere deep within the woods. When her father had found out what had happened, he desperately searched the deepest parts of the woods for them, but they had vanished. Perhaps they had faded, she thought, icy on the inside. Her father had broken down, stricken with grief and guilt at what had happened.

Elwing their sister had fled. After marrying Eärendil, Itarillë's son, they had twins of their own: Elrond and Elros. Unfortunately Elwing took the thrice-damned Silmaril her grandfather forged and the one Thingol's daughter had stolen from Morgoth. This meant that her father and remaining uncle, bound by their oath as they were, had to attack the Havens of Sirion where they lived. After Elwing's transformation, her father and uncle had taken Elrond and Elros to raise. Estela herself had had a key role in raising them. She was, technically, of their grandmother's generation, although slightly younger than Itarillë, but she was treated as an elder sister, and the twins remained close to her, grieving together when her father died.

What could she honestly say to Gil-Galad? To Oropher and Thranduil who lived in Doriath for a time? To Amdir? To anyone? That her fathers, her uncles, were the cause of their suffering? Will they even look at her, and wonder why she was still breathing, alive and gloriously successful in combat and other things, while Eluréd and Elurín, Dior and Nimloth, the Falmari slain in Valinor and the ones dead in Sirion, no longer walked on Arda? Maybe not her fault, but certainly unfair. And she had never felt the wrath of the Fëanorions. In fact, quite the opposite- she was unbelievably loved. It might not be her fault, but the weight of everything still lingered and there were those that suffered, still living, still mistrustful. And she needed to help them.

"Your thoughts are very deep," Gil-Galad's voice said softly.

She was startled from them. Looking up, she saw the king's blue eyes gaze at her in concern. "Yes," she sighed. "But I am fine."

"And yet it seems to me as if you have had your share of grief," he said slowly. "Forgive me, if I broached painful subject."

"It is alright," Estela responded, reassuring the High King, and herself. Gil-Galad's eyes gazed deep into hers, it seemed as if he was about to say something, but someone arrived.

"My king!" he called out. Gil-Galad closed his eyes in irritation. "Yes?" he asked, going over to the ellon. Estela stayed there in silence. After a while, she felt Elrond approach.

He sighed. "You have had me and Celeborn worried for you," he said. "Not just for the upcoming battle." He looked over to her in concern. "Are you alright?" he asked. His brows furrowed.

She sighed. "I am fine." He raised an eyebrow. "What?" she asked irritated. "You don't believe me?" she sighed again and in order to change the topic, she asked. "Is the High King always this calm before a battle?"

"Normally yes," Elrond said dryly. "But strangely, not this time, at least, not until you came along." He gave her a pointed look.

"And what, may I ask is that supposed to mean?" she asked softly, fixing her emerald stare onto his grey eyes. She lowered her tone, in case anyone passing by might have heard them and guessed at their familiarity.

Just then a rider galloped into the camp. "The Haradrim!" he cried. "The Haradrim are advancing. They are going to attack!"

Gil-Galad's eyes sharpened. "Are the warriors ready?" he barked. An ellon came beside him and replied, "Yes, my king." "Are the archers practiced at those?" he referred to the weapons Estela had built. "Yes, my king." "Saddle the horses," Gil-Galad issued. "Have the infantry phalanx move into position with the others." "Yes, my king." Estela heard Oropher issue out similar orders. She turned to Elrond. "It is time. We fight and whatever happens today will decide the outcome of us all." She did not know how right she was.

Estela stood with the cavalry. She was an expert rider. Ereinion Gil-Galad led the cavalry charge, going to the right, as he had proposed. She was thankful he was a military genius. Estela went with him, feeling her horse gallop beneath her and the rush of energy in her blood, as always during a battle.

Before long, they were followed by the Easterling cavalry division of the Haradrim army. No doubt wondering what they were up to and determined to put a stop to it, chasing them in hopes of slaughter. The dust from the earth billowed upwards around them creating a cloud but elven eyes were unaffected, although the enemy were easily bewildered and were beginning to think they should start to panic.

But they had missed something crucial that was far too late. By the time they had pulled considerably away from the centre, the Haradrim leaders realised what was happening. The Haradrim panicked and gave the signal. Their left wing began to advance.

"We have to charge!" Gil-Galad shouted over the dust and the thunder of the horses' hooves. "Now!"

"Forward!" Estela screamed to her companions. They rushed forwards, galloping as hard and fast as they came. Estela felt the power of the horse's strength accelerating them forwards. She was wide awake and felt the lingering, powerful rush in her blood.

They had to move past. Heading straight towards the centre, she heard someone scream: "This is insanity, we'll be slaughtered."

She always knew that was a possibility. After all, they were outnumbered. But they had to try and it seemed like a chance of success. She urged her companions. "Faster!" she shouted.

Their horses kept galloping. Finally they hurled onto their opposing infantry which had quickly defended their centre, and Estela was in the heat of it all. She had always preferred to use two swords, one in each hand, but being on horseback did not make it an option. It did not mean she was any less skilled though, her father had trained her well.

Her single blade sliced, emitting strangled screams of agony and a gush of streaming scarlet from one opponent. She didn't even blink before she moved to her next attacker. Clouds of dust billowed everywhere making it harder for the humans to see. That was all well for her enemies, but her allies needed help. They had to get this over and done with as quickly as possible.

And they weren't the only ones at risk. Amidst the smoke and blood, and the mass of heaving, struggling elves and men, she saw the gigantic shapes of the Mûmakil advance. Not good, not good at all.

Their commander had seen the window of opportunity and seized it. The giant mammals lowered their heads and their six tusks, colossal ivory adorned with razor-thorns, were ready to smash through their phalanx far behind.

Cursing inwardly, she screamed for Gil-Galad. Ereinion stood poised but bloodied, after imbedding Aeglos onto a fallen enemy, finishing him. He straightened his blue eyes sharpening.

Estela looked over to him. "They're charging!" she screamed. "The Mûmakil are charging!"

Ereinion cursed. He was off his horse so he quickly found it and mounted. They had exceedingly little time.

"Lower them!" Elrond shouted. They lowered their long spears and pikes. These were in front. The middle had their spears upwards to deflect anything thrown at them. Those that were behind carried shields and swords.

It was a good thing they were disciplined. "Advance!" Elrond shouted.

The phalanxes advanced. The shield-walls stayed slightly behind them but they did not move too much.

Then in between the openings, Estela's mounted cross-bows and mechanized double-crossbows were brought forth. Men and elves alike aimed and fired the weapons accordingly to their instructions. Thankfully, their practice times was sufficient. The special arrows whipped smoothly through the air before imbedding themselves in their targets.

The first Mûmak gave a trumpeting scream. More of them were hit, some in the eye and others behind the ears, as the elves and men, reloaded and shot the arrows, their legs buckled and they landed on the ground with an enormous crash.

But while most of them went down, others kept coming. Archers with ordinary bows and arrows targeted the drivers and warriors atop the Mûmakil and some of them grabbed the ropes beneath their Mûmak's ears causing them to go down and crash sideways onto other ones.

The few remaining Mûmakil were urged by their drivers to go faster. Elrond shouted at the troops to hold firm. Then they opened rank.

The Mûmakil were like bovine bulls in that regard- they could not break a charge or halt all of a sudden. The curses of their drivers were heard as they actually went past the phalanxes and thangails, and some even snickered.

But there was no time to laugh. Elrond directed them to fire Estela's arrows and ordinary ones at the Mûmakil and their drivers. The men's screams and the trumpeting roars of their Mûmakil were followed by the crash as they landed. They were swiftly eliminated.

Elves were excellent archers after all.

Meanwhile, Estela had spotted the way their phalanxes had dealt with the Mûmakil charge. She thought they should have brought more. It was arrogant of them and of the King's Men to think that only a few gigantic Mûmakil would be more than enough to win the day. What the Númenórean king was thinking, she would never knew.

She looked at Gil-Galad with relief in her eyes. Ereinion saw that it was safe and there was no need to go to the phalanx, thangail and infantry's aid. He turned just in time to slash through the body of a charging adversary.

They carried on fighting, harder and faster than before. Estela swiftly dispatched one enemy then another. She was sorely tempted to jump off her horse and fight on her feet so she could use two swords but there was always the risk that she needed to get out of there quickly to help another division and couldn't afford to waste time finding her horse.

But they weren't going to stay there for long- a relief as anyone who stayed for too long were sure to get killed. The Haradrim Commander- who was not even participating in the battle on a Mûmak- had ordered his cavalry to reinforce his besieged troops from Gil-Galad and Estela.

Estela spotted the gap and so did the High King. They looked at each other and wasted no time. Estela shouted to her companions and Gil-Galad gave the order. She could see the blue of the king's eyes blazing brightly, blazing in ferocious determination and rage. The calm, level-headed ellon before and during the first part of the battle had given way to something else- someone full of rage at the dying screams of men, elves, horses and Mûmakil. Like most elves he grieved the unnecessary loss of living creatures, being and beast alike. And it filled him with rage.

Estela never raged in fire. Her kin, particularly her grandfather and a few uncles were famous for their raging-hot temperaments, but Estela had trained herself to react in ice, never heat. She felt that it would be dangerous to react angrily in such a way, especially if they were capable of doing many things. She did not feel rage, but grief and dread for more. She looked at Gil-Galad. Their eyes, his sapphire ones and her emerald, met and both knew. They had to finish this, as soon as possible.

The gap that had been created by the reinforcing cavalry were charged at by Gil-Galad and Estela. They swerved left and entered straight into the opening.

The Haradrim commander was there, Estela saw. Gil-Galad saw him too and urged his horse faster, his blue eyes so bright they could have burned all that they saw. The phalanxes and shield-walls advanced as well when they saw what the cavalry was doing.

He wielded Aeglos in his right hand.

Estela urged her own horse and went ahead of him.

The Haradrim commander, war-painted (as if he did any work himself), and wearing costly armour, stood flanked by many warriors. At first glance, his armour- not like the ones the typical Haradrim men wore, looked as though it were of Númenórean make. Then she realised in horror, that it was elven. Elven armour.

Seeing it gave her anger. But also steely determination. She had meant to go ahead. She would hold them off for Gil-Galad. If she died, anyway, he would be able to take the head of the snake.

His warriors shouted in alarm. She spun on her saddle and her blade swiftly sliced through them left and right.

There wasn't time to decide otherwise. She drew her other sword and sliced through enemy bodies and air as swiftly and gracefully as she had ever done.

They didn't even have time to process what was happening. They were all dead before the others caught up. It was the same way all her enemies- including the ones she had killed back there- had died. And she charged with Ereinion, straight at the commander.

His two closest bodyguards huddled fearfully around him. Estela sliced through the ones that were foolish enough to run forwards, Ereinion following close behind her. And she cut off the head of the bodyguard on the right, the same time the High King killed the one on the left. And she sliced her sword into the commander's neck, despite his futile attempts to save himself, just as Ereinion plunged his spear into his heart.

Dead.

Those opposing that were left screamed, and some of them started to flee. Some were cut down, but thankfully, as Estela felt, some escaped. They were unlikely to get back. She didn't want to kill any more than she had to.

She turned to him, feeling mildly surprised that he had achieved their goal at the exact same time as she did. He wore the same look of mild surprise; their nerves were too full of battle-rush for them to experience anything more. All around them, the men and elves were slaughtering any enemy who remained. Estela felt them blur around her and their shouting voices fade into nothing. All she saw, were the sapphire eyes of the High King, and how they gazed at her, fixed, unmoving. They could have been killed by vengeful enemies. They could have been hit by something. But they weren't. And nothing distracted her from the power of his gaze. And of her own.

Her sword hung limply from her side. He had forgotten Aeglos, still imbedded in the commander's corpse. There was a strange power at work in that moment, mightier than anything she had ever experienced. It frightened her.

She turned away. But Gil-Galad's eyes remained on her for a very long time. And she felt as if they would remain forever.

Well, that was that done! Unbelievable, I actually wrote a battle and the story in detail. The Battle is inspired by the Battle of Gaugemela- the famous battle fought by Alexander the Great to win the Persian Empire against Darius King of Persia. However, unlike the men and elves here, they did not use Mûmakil- instead they had chariots with blades sticking from the sides of the wheels. And Darius escaped that battle only to be killed by his generals later on, unlike the unknown commander here. Double Crossbows are a weapon used by the Khmer soldiers from Angkor. They were two bows put together and operated by two archers. They could be used in amongst the dense vegetation of the jungles of Cambodia and were easy and silent to carry out, with a longer range. However, unlike the ones Estela developed here, they were not mechanized and did not have levers!