Three: Blood of the Forest

Talion returned to Cirith Ungol to find that Ghûra had finally arrived, mostly because she greeted him in the usual fashion: attempted assassination. He blocked her long knives with Urfael and Acharn, slammed a booted foot against her knee to make her stagger, and leaped back out of range.

Ghûra just threw her head back and laughed, the fresh scar over her missing eye looking thoroughly wicked, then sheathed her blades and gripped his arm in greeting. "Good to see you, Gravewalker. Hear we're heading for warmer territory; my boys'll be glad they ain't freezing their parts off every day."

"Yes, we're going for Núrn and Lithlad at the moment, though we may push through and clear Seregost out completely if ever we have the strength and a reason to hold it. By chance, did you look in on Tar Goroth before you left?"

"I did, 'cause I knew you'd ask," she answered. "He hasn't moved at all as far as we can tell; didn't so much as flinch when the Tower came down. I left Az-Harto and his band to keep an eye on him, though. Mordor hasn't seen this much sun since probably the War of Whatever, when the Elves and Men attacked the Tower."

"The War of the Last Alliance."

"Yeah that. Don't know how it's gonna affect the land, but if the ice starts meltin' and he starts movin' up there, they'll let us know."

"Good thinking. When we set out, I want your troops scouting ahead of us so we can get a feel for the opposition, and be on the lookout for the other Ringwraiths. There are too few of us left; we can't afford to just walk into a trap."

"Understood. Don't worry, Gravewalker; we'll keep a sharp eye."

Swinsere appeared right as they were about to leave, seeming to materialize out of the rough rock of the Mountains of Shadow together with several dozen Orcs and more supplies. He looked far more tired than Talion remembered but relieved to see him nonetheless.

Much to the necromancer's surprise, when he came in arms' reach, the Elda hugged him. Only briefly, but it was still more contact than he expected, and he hesitantly returned the gesture. "It is good to see you, my friend," the Elf said, patting his shoulder and stepping back to look him over. "You have been missed. When we received Ishmoz's message, we hardly dared believe it."

"I hardly dare believe it myself - I thought the end of Sauron would be the end of me, too - but here we are. Our fight isn't quite over yet."

"Unfortunate," the minstrel said sadly, "but things rarely ever turn out exactly as we hope. Torvin has gone on into Ithilien to pass the news to the Rangers; hopefully we can get word into Minas Tirith as well and send for some of our allies."

"I'd rather they remained in advantageous positions in the court. Idril, at least; she will be upset not to be here, but we need the support in the city. We can reconnect with the merchants once the trade routes are open again - they'll have some pull, at least in terms of coin - but she, Denethor, and Boromir are our only allies of noble blood."

"We need spies, you mean. To tell us what the new king intends."

Talion paused next to his caragor, laying a hand on the beast's side. "So I didn't imagine it, then. That was indeed the king's banner at the Black Gate."

"Yes. The Heir of Isildur has come at last to Gondor and ascended the throne of his forefathers. I have heard that he has delayed a true coronation in favor of restoring the city, but I cannot say if that was his decision or if it was made for him."

"Time will tell," Talion said quietly. Anything more than a simple passing of the crown would be costly in the extreme, draining funds from the treasury better suited to restoring the nation.

His caragor turned to whuff into his face, its breath smelling strongly of meat. He scratched the beast's throat and behind its ears, making it purr, then swung up onto its back. "Any sign of Eltariel? Or…?"

The Elf shook his head. "The last time I saw her was more than a year ago now, though not more than two, and it was from a distance. And… no sign of Him, either."

Of course it could never be that easy. Talion reached out once more, seeking his Ring's tether to the New Ring, but when he called down the bond, there was no answer - and no presence, either. No sense of the New Ring being worn - by anyone. What had happened?

He sighed. No use worrying about it now. "Are you coming south?"

"I will stay here for now to heal the wounded and guard the pass," Swinsere answered, "and if Torvin sends along news from the West, I will make sure it reaches you."

"That will be immensely helpful; thank you." Then Talion whistled to the rest of them, spurred his mount forward, and led the train of Orcs and Men from the fortress, crossing the Morgai and descending to the plateau of Gorgoroth before turning south along the road.

Even at the speed of Orcs and Mordor beasts, it took the better part of three days to reach the foothills of the Maegond Spur, and another two after they turned east to finally spot the slender spire of the tower at Graveshadow on the edge of the mountains. Ghûra had gone ahead with some of her fighters to scout, and apparently they had the situation well in hand; when the main force approached, a horn sounded from the wall, and the city gates ground open.

Unsurprisingly, the Dark Tribe Overlord was waiting for him in the courtyard of the tower.

"How was it?"

"Easy as breathing," she answered. "Like Mozû said, not even a warchief here. Was one captain, but the word is 'was'. When we showed up, he just attacked us on sight. I put him down, and his boys came over."

"Anyone with promise?"

"A few, maybe. Got an archer for Ishmoz, and a few for Nákra. Beyond that…" She shrugged. "There wasn't a whole lot of training being done towards the end; most of them were just meant to be fodder."

"Numbers over skill. Hoping the sheer size of the army would overwhelm the West's defenses." Talion swung down from his caragor and ascended the steps to the top of the inner wall, Ghûra walking alongside him.

The city fanned out below them, very similar in layout to Minas Morgul. Orcs had not been bred by the Dark Lords for artistry or creativity, but they did have ingenuity on their side. Once Talion had mapped the city and Swinsere and their few dwarven allies had figured out how to safely build a duplicate of it, their Orcs had nearly flown through the construction, devising all manner of clever machines to build faster of the Númenóreans of old, though with less refinement. But Graveshadow and Coldharbour had not been meant to be beautiful reflections of the cities of Númenor lost beneath the waves of the Belegaer, only unbreakable fortresses to close the Gap of Núrn to Sauron and his armies. As such, they were simple and unadorned but strong and built to last.

"We'll stay for a day, do a quick search and see what's here, then press on to Núrn," the Ringwraith said. "You took it. Do you want it?"

Ghûra snorted, loud and ugly. "Morgoth, no. Give it to Nákra or Skoth or one of their warchiefs. If you're gonna give me anything, give me Cirith Ungol."

"Mm. That's not a bad idea."

"Which part?"

"Any of it." Talion turned back to descend the wall again. "Nákra and Skoth would want Graveshadow or Coldharbour for the trade routes, although for different reasons, and the Morgul Vale is long and narrow and passes right under the Tower of Cirith Ungol. Not to mention Shelob's tunnels are confusing for those who don't know them well, and your tribe has experience underground in Seregost, though not nearly so much as Ishmoz and Gorgoroth's lava tubes. I can't promise the weather will be much better, given Darz-Gurum is high in the mountains, but whenever we return, Cirith Ungol is yours - though you may have to fight Skoth for it. He might want the Vale for a more advantageous position in terms of trade. He was angling for Minas Morgul, but he may decide to settle."

Ghûra grinned fiercely and clenched her new metal fist. "I can take him."

Talion hummed in amusement. "Don't kill him. Ishmoz won't be happy, but if needed I'll put him in Khargukôr instead, given Ghâshgôr got absolutely wrecked when the mountain blew. I don't want to start a new Age with a Balrog running around causing trouble."

"You think he can deal with Tar Goroth?"

"I doubt anyone can without Carnán, but I trust that he can hold it off long enough for me to get there."

Skoth agreed to take Graveshadow for now, and his tribe started sorting what had been left behind while the rest of them pressed on to Núrn. Mozû had an essentially eternal claim on the southernmost region of Mordor, rich in the wildlife that the Feral Tribe worshipped and worked with. He also had a surprisingly good relationship with Carnán and the Avari, especially for one of the Uruk-hai they detested. When Talion asked after them, Mozû said, "They're happy Sauron's gone, at least, and they celebrated with us for a bit after the Tower went down. For any more than that you'll have to ask them yourself."

The necromancer and his army arrived on the far side of the valley from Sharkhburz, on the opposite side of the Forest of Carnán. "Keep going to the docks," Talion called to the Feral Tribe Overlord. "Take the outpost, set up command there, see if there's anything worth catching to supplement our stores. Once we have the fortress, we'll check the fields to see if they were planted or if Sauron just left it. And send out some scouts to see if any livestock survived!"

"You got it, Gravewalker!"

The Ringwraith nodded and veered off under the ruined archway and into the trees, following the swiftest and most direct route to the heart of the forest.

He felt eyes watching him even before the canopy's shadow fell on him and his caragor, but no one approached until they were almost at Carnán's tree. Then an almost impossibly slender Elf dropped out of another tree so close that even Talion, who had known it was coming, jumped nearly a foot in the air. His caragor snarled but quieted quickly when he stroked its head. "Tamnaeth," said the wraith.

"Gravewalker," she acknowledged in return, inclining her head to him as he did to her. "We are glad to see you alive beyond hope. Mozû brought word, but we didn't dare believe."

"I wouldn't have believed it either," Talion replied, swinging down to let his mount rest as they walked the rest of the way. "And I almost didn't come back. You can thank Shelob for that, if ever you have cause to meet her."

"It is true, then," the Avari said, falling into step beside him. "The other Eight yet remain."

"Six. The Witch-king was slain on the Fields of the Pelennor, and Suladân has already died by my hand."

He showed her the Ring on the knotted twine around his neck. She touched it with the barest tip of a finger, then shuddered and withdrew, eyes tight. "Yes indeed. You intend to cast them into the fire, we hope."

"Of course. I have no intention of replacingthe other Ringwraiths; I simply haven't yet had the time to dispose of this one, or retrieve the Witch-king's Ring to do the same. When our position in Mordor is more secure, I will findthe time. But until then… have you seen Daerwen?"

Another Elf, Saleh, dropped from another tree with barely a rustle. "I saw her last," he answered, falling into step next to them. "She went south over the Sea of Núrnen a few days ago."

"Aya, sweetheart. Can't you stay in one place for five minutes?" He sighed. "No matter; I'll try to call her. Thank you for the news."

The Elves both nodded and stopped at the edge of the trees, letting him approach Carnán alone.

In the times since, he had done as Celebrimbor had suggested the first time; he unbuckled the belt holding his sword and dagger to his back, letting them slide to the ground as he walked forward and sank to one knee in front of the massive twisted tree. There he waited for several long minutes, letting the utter stillness of the Nazgûl fill him and drown any impatience - though a few worries floated like leaves on the surface of his mind. Was Carnán ill? Had she not woken with the spring? Had the destruction of the One wounded her? Had he wounded her unknowingly while under Sauron's dominion?

But then the tree creaked, the trunk parting with a groan to reveal a tunnel into the heart, and Talion rose and followed it in, then knelt once more before the manifestation of the nature spirit.

"Undeath has come back to Mordor," Carnán rumbled, branches swaying around the necromancer, "arisen once more in Doom Shadow."

"Yes." The Maia had been far from thrilled that his Ring-begotten powers had matched Zog's, who had caused so much harm to her, but Talion had proved time and again that he was her ally, so she had grown to tolerate him, at least. "Some of the other Nazgûl have survived as well. I mean to put an end to them."

Carnán hummed. "Yes, you will," she said. "You seek your dragon-child; I will call her for you. She will return with the sunrise."

Talion bowed deeply to the nature spirit; that would save him the effort of meditating all night trying to contact Daerwen through their bond, which may very well have been a fruitless endeavor given how it had thinned during his time as a Nazgûl. He had closed it off before he Fell in an attempt to protect her - which she had not been thrilled about - and time and Sauron's domination had weakened it further; he half-feared it would snap under the slightest pressure.

He stood, bowed once more, and departed.

The Avari had gone by the time he returned to his mount, but he had not expected them to linger. They had left some meat for the caragor, though, which it was eagerly devouring, and Talion waited for it to finish, buckling his blades back on before mounting up and galloping for the forest's edge.

The camp at the docks was well on its way to being firmly entrenched by the time he arrived, defenses haphazard but strong. Ghûra materialized at his side the instant he set foot inside the barricades. He had not even dismounted before she said, "Gravewalker, the Overlord - it's Brûz."

Talion stilled.

His history with Brûz, even after shaming him, had been… tense. After Celebrimbor had left him for dead on the bridge to Barad-dûr, he had eventually rehabilitated the massive Olog, some distant echo of guilt filtering through the darkness of Isildur's Ring like dim rays of sunlight through clouds of heavy storm. It had… mostly succeeded, but afterwards Brûz had always stared at him with venom in his eyes, though he had never made any moves against him. The Olog had seemed to know that with the Ring on his hand, the wraith would not have allowed another betrayal.

Talion was not yet sure if that had changed.

"His warchiefs?"

"Ashgarn Cave Rat, Feral Tribe, and Ogbur Tree-Killer, Machine Tribe. Not really any threat - I could take them both out on my own - but I also heard Horza and his boys are lurking somewhere east of here."

Horza Shield Master, a Defender Tank from the Warmonger Tribe. An unusual Orc if ever there was one, he had joined up with Talion of his own free will, but not because he wanted a fortress of his own. Instead he had served as the wraith's bodyguard to ensure he got the most interesting fights, and he had stayed loyal in exchange for regular sparring, threatening to betray Talion if he ever lost their fights and so proved himself undeserving of his protection.

Talion had lost, several times as he was finally dragged down into the dark, but even so Horza had stayed by his side until the very end.

"Have someone send him a hell-hawk," said the necromancer. "Tell him about the Six, ask if he's interested. If not, we won't pursue it as long as he doesn't attack us."

"On it."