Seventeen: Fly for the Last Time
Alatar and Pallando agreed to remain in Mordor and keep watch over the land while Talion was away. The wraith was grateful for their support; even if their powers were less now than before Sauron's final defeat, as were the Elves', they were still Wizards of the West, and their word had weight.
The queen's reply arrived swiftly, only two days after it was sent, acknowledging the danger and saying only for the king and his companions to enjoy their adventure and bring "something interesting" back with them. Her apparent lack of concern for the Ringwraith on their border, together with the king's own desire for peace and Talion's most solemn vow that he would see Aragorn returned to Gondor alive and well, at last fully swayed the other three Rangers. To assuage any remaining concern, the necromancer also showed them the route he planned for them to take on one of the maps the Nártelumë Corps had made of Middle-earth before his fall. It was far from complete, and had the Dark Lands themselves as only vague coastline, but all the north was laid out clear and precise, from Tol Morwen in the west to the shores beyond the Orocarni in the east.
"The most direct path would be to go south into Umbar and the Harad lands, then follow the coast of the Inner Seas to the strait between the South Reaches of Rhûn and the Dark Lands," he said, tracing the route he named as they all pored over the maps. "The West has allies amongst the Haradrim who would help us if they knew we were coming, but though they are weakened, the Corsairs of Umbar still serve the Dark Powers and themselves, and hold the coast and inland. If we went that route, we would start a war between them when our intention is to end one. Though the most sure of provisions along the way, that path is also the most populated; even if we flew only at night, we would surely be spotted, and if they know of her, are allied with her even when their lands are so distant from one another, there may be spies of the Corsairs who would send word of our coming to Adûnaphel.
"To my mind, the safest route would be to turn north instead, to the Sea of Rhûn, and follow its tributaries east to the Orocarni. For the most part, save on the rivers and the Sea, Rhûn itself is only sparsely populated by nomadic tribes, and the mountains the same by dwarf clans with little love for Sauron and his servants. But there are those amongst the Easterlings who can be trusted as well, in the Southern Reaches - Fan Jingyi's daughters, Xiuying and Xiulan." He glanced up at the king, who inclined his head; he recognized the name of the shade that Talion had summoned. "Though they are not the leaders of their people, their family has grown in power now that Sauron is gone, and they have the favor of the emperor of their land. We can hide with their clan for a few days to rest, then fly south across the strait. What route we will take home I cannot yet say, nor when - it may be that there will be a war of succession once Adûnaphel is dead, if the surviving prince is dead or disgraced - but I mean to take it slower and allow us all time to rest and recover after the battle."
"A long journey, but a necessary one," Elessar said with a nod. Then he looked up at Daerwen, who was also peering down at the map. "Can you fly so far, my lady?"
The dragon huffed a smokey fume. "Yes. It will be easy with rest."
Talion rubbed her nose. "No flames around the maps please, sweetheart. But we will need to fly to Coldharbour first, for provisions, and to drop Swinsere off and pick up Horza. He would never forgive me if I left him behind for this."
Though still young for a dragon, Daerwen was strong beyond her years. Carrying two Men, an Elf, and a dwarf was no strain at all for her, and she easily took flight from Minas Gorthrim and winged north and east towards Coldharbour, Maglor and Gaerdil scouting ahead. Gimli swiftly learned that it was better not to look down and see the ground racing away so very far below his feet, but Legolas and Elessar - who said to call him Aragorn or Strider on the road - looked around curiously and watched their flight, the Elf more eagerly than the Man. "Do you think we will see where the Walls of the Sun once stood from the Dark Lands?" the Sinda asked the wraith.
"That I cannot say, for I have never been so far from Mordor. Not while my mind was my own, at least."
That made the Elf's attention focus on him instead of their impending journey. "While your mind was your own - do you remember your time as a Nazgûl then?"
Gimli sputtered and hissed that it was the height of rudeness to just ask that to someone they had only just met, but Talion did not take offense. "Some things, dimly - vague shapes in the dark. Like catching glimpses of another room through a knothole in the wall. I remember following the Ringbearer through the land I now know is the Shire, and afterwards drowning… a bright light in the distance, burning some of the other wraiths… Sauron screaming as the One was destroyed… but little else."
Aragorn let out an 'ah' of understanding. "Frodo - that is, the Ringbearer - was stabbed by a Morgul blade after fleeing the Shire, and Arwen took him ahead in all haste to Rivendell for healing, but she was pursued by the Nine." He nodded to Talion. "After she crossed the ford into Imladris, she commanded the waters of the Bruinen to rise and 'rush against the Ringwraiths.'"
"Hence the drowning." Talion nodded in return, with a faint smile. "I am relieved to have some explanation for that, at least. I thought it might have been some punishment of Sauron's, for failings I do not remember. Not that he ever needed a reason."
Daerwen let out an angry rumble at that as she soared out of the Ephel Dúath and into the open sky over Núrn, the spire of Graveshadow piercing the clouds to the north and east. The wraith patted her shoulder. "He's dead and gone, sweetheart, or in the very least his power is broken beyond hope of recovery. He can't do anything to us now; the only one we need to worry about is Adûnaphel."
"The Quiet, yes?" Gimli said, chewing on the end of his pipe. They were too high and moving too fast for either him or Aragorn to actually smoke; the wind would have smothered the flames before they had even truly caught. "Why is she called that? Is she mute? Or an assassin?"
"Her once-teacher Akhôrahil said it is because, like a Maia, she does not require chants or words of power to shape her sorcery - most of it, anyway. She simply wills, and it is so. Some great spells still require chants, but it is my understanding that she can shorten them, or say them after to empower the spell further."
"A hard fight, then," said Aragorn, tapping the stem of his own pipe against his lips, "since we will not know what art she will use against us until the spell is already cast."
"I mean to keep the bulk of her attention on myself for exactly that reason. Because of my own Ring, I will bear up better under her sorcery, and though her knowledge of magic is far broader than mine, I am hopeful that my skill with necromancy is deeper, and will allow me to… rot her magic, if that makes sense."
The king straightened. "You mean to destroy her spells while they are in flight."
"If I can. In time all things decay, and even magic is no different. Nothing endures forever."
They arrived in Coldharbour to find it much as they had left it. Daerwen and Gaerdil spiraled down into the courtyard of the fortress, but before they had even settled, Talion called up a handful of shades and sent them off to find Horza, the quartermaster, and his aide-de-camp, the last of whom would be assisting Maglor while the wraith was gone. Prâk was exceptionally tiny for an Orc - she barely reached the bottom of Talion's ribcage - and not a good fighter, even with the Mystic Tribe's sorcery. But she had a sharp mind and a good grasp of politics, even if she herself had no patience for it, and she was perfectly content to follow the Nazgûl around and assist him in running Mordor.
She was also the first to appear in the courtyard as they all jumped down. "Gravewalker. Who's this?"
"Warriors and witnesses for Adûnaphel's death," Talion answered, leading the way into the citadel. "She's been found at last, and we're going to slay her as swiftly as we can. Swinsere will mediate until I return, and Alatar and Pallando if they come this way, though I believe they will be staying in Minas Gorthrim."
"Got it. You need provisions? Should I grab Ar-Pratu?"
"He should already be on his way. We will be staying the night in the citadel, but is there anything I need to attend to before we go?"
A few normal messages had come in from Lithlad and Núrn, nothing unexpected. But there was a message from the team he had sent to at last investigate the ruins of Barad-dûr. They had arrived safely in Gorgoroth but found a substantial tribe of Sauron-worshippers in the wreckage, paying homage to the broken stone in lieu of the vanished Maia. The captain leading the band, Thrak the Faithful, had not engaged them yet, and Talion dictated a return message to Prâk, telling him to withdraw to a safe distance and hold position until the wraith got there, though it would be some time until that happened - but if he was attacked, he was to fight back, even if it meant killing Sauron's lingering fanatics.
He also dispatched another band under Ur-Edin the Painted for support, just in case, and to take him additional supplies. The Olog had an excellent eye for detail, a side-effect of his artistry, and Talion trusted that by the time he arrived, on the way to Orodruin to destroy the other Eight Rings, the Orcs would know everything there was to know about the renegades.
While they spoke, Ar-Pratu swayed into the main hall, the shade of his blood-brother Ogg perched happily on his shoulder. "Gravewalker. How many people, and how many days?"
"Four, and at least a month. We'll be hunting on the road, so focus less on food and more on everything else. Mostly waterskins." Daerwen always carried enough for one passenger - usually Horza - not four. Since they were following the rivers, they didn't need to carry everything with them, but they couldn't be landing every hour just to take a drink, either.
"Send a runner to the Marauder Tribe too," Prâk said, still scribbling messages. "See if they've got any East-coin and South-coin from the traders. The Gravewalker might not need it, but it can't hurt to have it anyway - at least on the way back."
"A good idea, Prâk; I didn't think of that." As a Nazgûl sustained by a Ring, he needed nothing that required trade or payment, so now he rarely ever thought about coin of any kind outside of governing Mordor. "But I'll send a shade; it'll be faster."
The Olog nodded and swayed off again, calling to his subordinates.
Then Horza arrived, bursting through the doors and scowling at the wraith. "You took Swinsere over me?"
"For an investigation, which you would have found boring." Mostly true, given there had been no real fight. "And now I'm taking you to kill a Ringwraith."
The Orc perked up at once. "The Quiet?"
"Indeed. We leave at dawn, so make sure your gear is ready."
Horza grinned fiercely, then left to do just that. When he had gone, Talion turned to the king and his companions. "Did you want separate chambers for the night, or a large one to share?"
"Separate, but on the same hall, if that can be done," said the king. "Gimli snores."
He shot an amused glance at the dwarf, who sputtered indignantly but did not deny it.
Talion put Aragorn in his own chambers, since he never used them except for storage, and Legolas and Gimli on either side. The Elf and dwarf left their gear in their rooms, then set out to explore the city together while the king wandered alone, still disguised as an ordinary Ranger. The Nazgûl handled the business of state, such as it was, then went through the contents of Daerwen's saddlebags, sorting what they would take with them from what they would leave behind. When he was done and repacked everything, he settled next to her, and the dragon dropped her head into his lap, purring. He scratched her chin and brow ridges, then sank down into the still silence of his Ring, going blank and quiet like those years under the Eye.
At last the king returned, looking pleasantly surprised.
"I trust Mordor is to your satisfaction once again?"
"More than," he replied. He bowed to Daerwen, then sat next to the wraith. "I never imagined such a thing would be possible after the ages of darkness they have endured, but I find that I am glad beyond words to see the Orcs becoming a people, now that they too are free of the Shadow."
"They were Elves once, or their ancestors were, even if they themselves are much changed," Talion said. "But it stands to reason that lacking the Dark Lords' whips at their backs, they would return to their deepest roots, and reclaim their own history."
Aragorn hummed in agreement and took out his pipe to smoke. Daerwen added her own to the mix, and huffed small clouds through the rings he blew for her until she figured out how to do it herself. Then her spiked tail wiggled with delight, and the necromancer patted her side with a smile.
