Chapter 4: The Conflicts of Men

The next day dawned bright, and Galadriel felt refreshed from their journey. She ate a small morsel of waybread before slipping out of the tent to look over the town. The camp still appeared a jumbled mass of tents, but there was some order to it. The eastern shore of the river held a few small permanent structures belonging to the Númenórean traders, while the western shore had been taken over by the Southlanders. It appeared that those of the queen's soldiers who had stayed were dwelling on the eastern shore with their brethren.

The western camp was a sprawling affair as more refugees were still being found on the wooded western slopes of the Uruk wasteland. More had survived than Galadriel had expected, which pleased her greatly, though she feared their resources would be over-stretched.

The sun had nearly cleared the tents around Galadriel when Arondir fell into silent step with her. She greeted him courteously then lowered her voice. "I heard Bronwyn yesterday, but I fear she was trying to put a good face on things. How have the last few months been? What are the attitudes among the refugees?"

"It has been… challenging, my lady. Bronwyn was not entirely truthful on some counts. Many of the men wished to journey south and integrate in Pelargir, but we were rebuffed by the Númenórean soldiers. One explained to Bronwyn in private that the men of Pelargir are considered rebels by most in Númenor. It seems they are among the few who have kept faith with the Eldar. This is good for us, but it means they will be slow to trust a group of Southlanders, especially under a native king. Hopefully Halbrand's friendship with the elves will ensure the two groups can live in peace."

Galadriel nodded, turning this information over in her mind. "I noted that the general opinion of both elves and other men had soured among the people of Númenor. They have become proud and resistant to counsel. Queen Miriel, though in some ways faithful like her father, is caught in an impossible position. If she defies the will of the people openly, she risks an uprising."

Before Arondir could respond, distant shouts and a lone trumpet reached their ears. Arondir gestured for Galadriel to follow before running toward the river. "Bandits. They have attacked the eastern bank several times now."

Galadriel veered to the right as she caught sight of a small boat tied up on the bank. Drawing her sword as she ran, she sliced through the rope securing the craft and pushed it into the river, jumping in once it was caught by the current. Arondir climbed in beside her and the two began to paddle across the wide Anduin.

They could hear the clash of steel as they neared the far bank—some of the remaining soldiers must have been near the provisions stores when the bandits attacked. Galadriel rowed faster, listening intently to the fight.

As soon as the boat hit the sand, the two elves leapt forward, Arondir hardly pausing to pull the boat out of reach of the current. They flew toward the sounds of the skirmish. As they turned the corner of the largest building, Galadriel could see the bandits, a group of six, fighting two soldiers and a merchant who were standing in a circle around a fallen sack of grain.

One of the bandits looked over, meeting Galadriel's eye. His own widened and he stumbled back, calling out to his compatriots to fall back. The bandits nearest to him followed his gaze and immediately turned and fled.

The remaining two attackers were focused on the merchant who appeared to be injured. However, now that the other bandits had fled, the Númenórean soldiers quickly rallied to their companion's aid, pushing the attackers off.

"Grab them!" Galadriel shouted, adjusting her course so that she could cut off the remaining bandits if they began to run.

It was over shortly. The two remaining bandits were disarmed, and a length of rope was found with which to secure them.

"We didn't need your help, elf," the merchant grunted as one of the soldiers began bandaging his arm where a knife had caught him.

Galadriel smiled frostily at him. "Indeed? I shall keep that in mind next time I hear the clash of steel on this side of the river."

The soldiers paled slightly, and the taller of the two quickly offered to help Galadriel and Arondir secure the bandits in the barracks.

Once they were away from the others, he sighed. "I'm sorry about him. Númenor has a complicated history with elves, and many of us have never met any ourselves. I hadn't until you showed up on our shores, my lady."

Galadriel took a moment to scrutinize the tall man's kind face and curly hair. She recognized him as one of the cadets she'd tested on Númenor. "And what do you think of us now?"

He sighed and ushered them into the barracks. "I'm not sure. I've never believed that we were betrayed by the elves after the war with Morgoth, but I'll admit that I've always envied elves their long lives. The men of Númenor do not live as long as our fathers did. The kings of old lived nearly half a millennium, yet now two centuries is considered an extraordinarily long life. The loss has devastated my people. Many seek a cure for death, but none have succeeded."

Galadriel chuckled coldly as she knelt to check the ropes on one of the prisoners and secure it to a beam. "It is foolish of men to think they might overturn the making of the world. Men pass into peace while the elves live on unless their lives are cut short to founder in darkness. This may seem a great envy to you, but the potential for unending joy has also brought us the reality of unending sorrow. I have trod the shores of Middle Earth for millennia, watching the bones of the fallen pile higher than the peaks of the White Mountains. The only end I see is if I join them."

The soldier, Galadriel recalled his name was Ontamo, was silent as he secured the other prisoner. When he stood, he looked thoughtful. "I've never thought of that. To walk the roads of the world alone with only the memories of those who I'd expected to walk with. I don't know that I would be able to endure it."

"Do not underestimate the strength of men." Arondir led them out of the barracks and closed it behind him. He looked at Galadriel, then the soldier. "I have lived among your kind for almost eighty years. Elves have a long-suffering strength, weathering the passage of millennia and the changing of the world beneath our feet. The strength of men is that which changes the world. Even now, you and every man in this camp is remaking the world of men. Do not let the image of the new world be defined by men of ambition or folly."

Ontamo stared at Arondir, eyes wide. Finally, he chuckled and pressed the heel of his hand to his brow. "You speak to the wrong man. I am a foot soldier, not a maker of worlds. Perhaps such advice should be given to Queen Miriel or this Southlander king, Halbrand."

Galadriel felt the corner of her mouth rise. "Even the lowest of men can change the course of the future, especially at such a turning point as this." She led them away from the barracks and toward the river. "I sense a time of great change is coming. Men of strength and character will shape the dawning age.

"For now, we must bring news of the attack to Halbrand. Ontamo, Arondir said there have been other attacks. Are you able to provide details of them?"

Ontamo nodded and followed her back to the boat on which she and Arondir had crossed the Anduin. By the time they arrived back at the king's tent, the whole camp was a flurry of activity, ready for the new day.

Inside, they found Halbrand and Bronwyn already deep in conversation with various inventories scattered across the table before them. Halbrand looked up when they entered.

"Good, you've returned. The state of the stores is better than I feared, but we must act swiftly if we will supplement it enough to survive the coming winter. There are some vegetables that grow in these parts that will survive the early frosts. We must plant those as well as anything that will be ready for harvest before winter falls."

Galadriel nodded. "We will start at once. However, our stores will surely fail if we cannot protect them. Arondir and I have just returned from the eastern shore where we helped limit our losses in a bandit attack."

Halbrand's brow creased, and he looked sharply toward Ontamo. "I take it this is not the first attack. Soldier, what can you tell me of these bandits?"

Ontamo's posture straightened. "My lord, we have been hit by the thieves four times previously. There is no pattern to the attacks that we've been able to discern. The bandits try to avoid conflict with our men, but they are able to hold their own as long as they have the advantage of numbers. I've also spoken to the men who were here before we escorted the refugees. They'd seen similar attacks before, but never so many in such a short time. The bandits have either grown bolder or more desperate after the destruction of the Southlands."

"Bands of robbers troubled us on occasion as well, my lord." Bronwyn broke in. "I do not know if this is the same band, but the tactics are similar. They have always dwelt in the mountains, though they used to be a bit to the north of here where the peaks are lower and there are easier passes. I don't know of any passes this far south."

"There is one, but it is treacherous." Arondir said quietly. "I doubt the bandits are dwelling near it. They likely moved southwest into the forests since there is less prey to the east of the mountains now."

Halbrand sat silently as Galadriel moved to sit at the table. He looked at her once she'd settled. "Did you manage to apprehend them?"

"We captured two. They have been secured in the barracks for now."

Halbrand nodded, looking more confident. "Good. Then we have leverage if we need it. Arondir, see if you can get any information from the captives that will help you find the bandits. We need to know more about this band. How many they are and how well equipped. In the meantime." He turned to Galadriel. "I need you to start training the men. They must learn to handle what weapons they have."

Galadriel nodded and turned to Ontamo. "If you could assist me? There are too many men for me to train effectively alone."

Ontamo agreed quickly. After Galadriel requested that he return in the afternoon to begin training, Ontamo left with Arondir to interrogate the prisoners. Bronwyn soon followed, explaining that she had to help prepare the noon meal for the camp.

Now alone, Galadriel turned again to Halbrand. "What are you planning?"

"I'm not sure yet. It depends on many factors. However, at a minimum we will need to move the stores to this side of the river. We'll need defensible structures to do that. I will send a team of the men to start felling trees. There was some forest on the slopes of the White Mountains where we passed near them. I'd like to avoid having the men pass to the eastern shore in large numbers for now."

Galadriel nodded. "We must not move so far north as Fanghorn, but there are younger forests on the slopes here that should be sufficient. In the meantime, you ought to go out and walk amongst the men here. Both times I walked through the camp, you were the topic on everyone's lips."

Halbrand smiled, a roguish glint in his eye. "Was I indeed? Then I suppose I shall. Would you care to accompany me? As the king I'm quite sure that I'm expected to have an armed guard with me."

"I thought I was your envoy. Have I become captain of the guard as well?"

"If you're willing, I'd be happy to promote you."

Galadriel stared at him for a moment, unsure whether he was playing her for a fool. "I will accompany you today while I await Ontamo, but I refuse to be saddled with another meaningless title."

Halbrand sighed dramatically, but a slight crease around his eyes betrayed his amusement. "If you must. Although, I'm quite sure we'll find you a new title in due time."