Chapter 6: Allies and Enemies
The road home felt like an eternity, though in truth it took less than three days. The men created a makeshift stretcher to carry Isildur and took turns with it. Even Galadriel and Halbrand took their turns. Galadriel noted the surprise in the men's eyes when Halbrand stepped forward to take the first shift.
By the time the small band arrived back in the city, surprise had been replaced by renewed pride, especially on the face of Tindómëon. The Númenórean had not left his countryman's side throughout the journey and insisted on helping carry the stretcher more than his share. As the other soldiers scattered to their tents, he, Galadriel, Halbrand, and Arondir carried Isildur the final steps to the small tent on the water that was being used for healing.
"My lord! You've returned!" Bronwyn bustled out of the tent and dropped into a brief curtsey. "The child is here and recovering. She will be quite alright in a few days. Is that the other captive there? Please, bring him inside."
The four laid the litter on an open stretch of floor. Bronwyn knelt beside Isildur and began her examination.
"Please keep us informed regarding both of their progress," Halbrand said quietly before beckoning Galadriel out of the tent. She followed him immediately, leaving the others to their work. He was quiet for a way before speaking softly. "What do you think his chances are?"
Galadriel pursed her lip and considered her answer. "I am afraid I have done but little healing for men. The men of Númenor are strong, and Isildur is young. With Bronwyn's treatment, I believe he will recover, but he will likely have some lasting damage to that arm."
Halbrand nodded thoughtfully. "There's nothing we can do now but wait. In the meantime, I will check on the fields and you should check on the men. Then we need to begin building."
"You have little trust in the woodsmen." Galadriel observed.
Halbrand laughed. "And I'm sure you have less. However, if we can make it far more difficult for them to steal from us while also honoring our promise to pay them for their help, we may yet live in peace."
"I suppose the time has come for us to build a proper city then."
"Indeed," Halbrand agreed.
xXxXx
Days and months passed almost without notice for Galadriel, like grains of sand from an hourglass poured out along a vast seashore. The weather cooled and the harvest was brought in, snow fell and soon melted away, crops were planted and tended as the dance of the seasons began again. However, living among men for the first prolonged period of her long life made her acutely aware of the impact of time on the lives of mortal men.
Where a ramshackle collection of tents had once stood, now a carefully planned collection of buildings had sprouted up, starting with larger central buildings that could double as barracks until every family had a dwelling of their own. Tall fields of grain and vegetables grew around the young city, heralding an eventual end to rationing. Even the small band of soldiers Galadriel had begun training so many months ago had grown to a disciplined and capable force.
Like so many of her afternoons, this one found Galadriel in the small field set aside for training. The two dozen men and women clustered around her were the best of her recruits and the core of their small army.
The clash of steel rang in her ears as she watched Theo lunge at Ontamo. The older man sidestepped and began a counterattack, but Theo had gracefully shifted his weight to redirect his movement, catching Ontamo off-guard.
Ontamo stumbled back, hastily aborting his attack to return to the defensive, and Theo pressed the advantage.
Theo pushed forward. One step. Two steps. Another swing.
Ontamo blocked each strike but was being pushed back.
Theo feinted with a slash from his dominant side, but at the last minute adjusted to a precise though less powerful thrust.
The group erupted in cheers as the tip of his blade came to rest against Ontamo's sternum.
Galadriel smiled and moved toward the two men who were now relaxed and breathing heavily. "You both fought admirably. Well done." She turned to Theo and set a hand on his shoulder. "I said once that we would make a soldier of you. Today, you have claimed a victory from your teacher, proving my words. Congratulations."
Theo grinned widely and thanked both her and Ontamo.
"You've become quite a warrior. Come, let's tell your mother the news. I'm sure she'll want to hear it from you," Ontamo said, laughing.
Galadriel nodded and dismissed the rest of the group for the evening. Then she, Ontamo, and Theo began the walk back into town. The whispers that had once followed her through the camp had dwindled almost to silence. The common men of the town had grown accustomed to her presence, though they would never accept her as a part of them. Her small army, on the other hand, had long since forgotten their early discomfort with her presence.
On this day, as she, Theo, and Ontamo passed laughing amongst the mud and timber structures, Galadriel felt for the first time in centuries as if she had made herself a home. She smiled, listening to the comforting chatter of the two men, as they came to the center of camp were Halbrand's and her old tent had once stood.
Now a set of mid-sized wood and stone buildings formed four sides of a central grassy square on the banks of the river. The largest of these was usually called the "Palace" but it functioned more as a generic government building. The next two buildings were smaller and served as a barracks for the troops and the town storehouse. Finally, opposite the barracks was a long thin building with a wide, grassy lawn overlooking the river. As they approached this final building, the bitter scent of herbs and medicines wafted out to meet them.
"Mum!" Theo called as they reached the open door. Inside the building was a long row of cots, mostly empty, opposite a couple of small hearths about which were hung the various herbs they'd been able to smell from outside. Only one of these hearths was lit during the warmer months, but all would be blazing in the winter to keep the patients from catching cold.
Bronwyn straightened from where she'd been tending a small kettle in the one active hearth. "You're back early. How was training?"
Theo smiled at his mother. "I won an exhibition match against Ontamo today. General Galadriel said I'm a true soldier now!"
Bronwyn cried out, rushing forward to scoop him into a hug, and Galadriel was suddenly struck by how much he'd grown since she first met him during their escape from the Dark Land. Then, Theo had been a short young man, scraggly with nervous eyes. Now he stood taller than his greying mother, passionate and strong in the face of an uncertain future.
She smiled as she watched the boy resurface in the face of his mother's excitement.
"Isildur? Why are you here instead of at the practice field?"
Galadriel turned to see Isildur, who had just walked in with a basket of herbs, coloring. "Ontamo. I did not expect to see you here. Cerys asked me for help collecting some herbs she and Bronwyn were running low on." Isildur's eyes kept darting away from Ontamo as he spoke, and Galadriel heard a little snort behind her.
She turned back to Bronwyn, raising an eyebrow.
The healer chuckled softly and spoke softly so the two Númenóreans wouldn't hear. "He is here every few days, either because he feels poorly or has a 'day off' from training and is available if we need any assistance. Cerys, my assistant, seems to believe he wishes to be a field medic. As long as she is set on helping him learn, Isildur seems unwilling to correct her."
Galadriel smiled and looked back at the two men. Ontamo was still harassing his friend, but Isildur was laughing now.
"Oh, my lady, I think the king wished to speak with you after training. He came by this morning after you left for the day and was disappointed that he'd missed you."
Galadriel thanked Bronwyn and bid a quick farewell to the others before crossing the small grassy courtyard that separated the house of healing from the palace.
The heavy wooden door swung open at her approach, revealing Tindómëon, who had recently been promoted to Captain of the Royal Guard. The Númenórean had been intensely loyal to Halbrand ever since Isildur's rescue. He bowed once as Galadriel entered and directed her to a smaller room off the main hall.
When Galadriel entered the room, she found Halbrand as usual, leaning over a large table spread with maps and notes.
"Halbrand. You sent for me?"
He looked up and smiled at her. "I'm glad you've come. I received a message from the woodsmen. They've had skirmishes with orcs in the forest. They requested we send men to help them identify where the orcs are crossing from the Dark Land."
Galadriel felt her eyebrows rise. "Where? Do we have reason to think they have abandoned the northern passes?"
Halbrand nodded, his face drawn with worry. "Indeed. The two most recent sightings were south of the woodsmen's camp.
Galadriel watched as Halbrand idly traced the location on the map, his brow furrowed in concentration. She looked closely at the thick black lines of the mountains separating them from Adar's country.
"Do you recall, Arondir once mentioned a southern pass through those mountains. At the time he deemed it unlikely that orc or man would willingly traverse it, but if the orcs have grown bold it could explain their presence so far south."
Halbrand instantly summoned Tindómëon. "Would you send one of the boys on the green to find Arondir? His king requires his counsel."
Tindómëon bowed and left the room, silent in his darkened leather uniform.
Halbrand turned back to Galadriel and smiled wanly. "I am most glad you came by. I confess I had entirely forgotten Arondir's words until you mentioned them. We will need to send a party to stake out the southern pass first and verify whether the orcs are using it. From there we can set up a guard post if needed."
Galadriel agreed readily, and the two began discussing the logistics of their scouting mission. Soon, the door opened again and Arondir entered.
The other elf inclined his head then stood at attention. Galadriel greeted him warmly and gestured for him to join them at the table.
"We have heard news from the woodsmen of orcs in the southern reaches of the forest here and here." She gestured toward the wooded slopes of the mountain just south of the woodsman camp as well as another spot, closer to their city. "The woodsmen came to us in fear that the orcs had discovered or created another pass out of the Dark Lands."
Halbrand looked at Arondir closely. "You mentioned another pass once. Why did you deem it unlikely the woodsmen were dwelling near it?"
Arondir's face was impassive. "It is the dwelling of a malevolence that escaped from the north when Beleriand fell. I have never encountered the fell beast myself, but the guards who had been in this land for centuries whispered that it is the dark spawn of our ancient enemy, the Gloomweaver."
Galadriel felt herself go cold and she heard a strangled breath from Halbrand beside her. She forced herself to remain calm and focus on the situation. "Setting aside for a moment that such a stain dwells upon our doorstep, would even orcs be so rash as to pass through such danger?"
Halbrand answered her slowly. "I don't believe orcs would take such a road unless ordered to. If orcs are indeed crossing the mountains that way, then these are not idle wanderings. Something is brewing in the Dark Land."
Arondir nodded once in agreement. He picked up a small piece of charcoal from the darkened hearth nearby and made a careful notation on the map. Then he nodded to them each again and withdrew.
Galadriel stared down at the words in quiet horror. Cirith Ungol.
When she finally looked up again, she found Halbrand, pale and discomfited, still staring at the map. A wave of anger rose within her, driving away the cold that had lingered since that hateful name was first spoken.
"So, shall you ally with the demon spawn as with the mother?"
Halbrand flinched and, for a moment, his face was unguarded. Galadriel saw fear, hatred, and something else that looked almost like regret. Then he steadied himself with a breath and his face became a mask of indifference.
"I have no interest in such an alliance, and we do not have time to throw recriminations about ages past. The task immediately before us is to watch the pass and, if needed, guard it against encroaching orcs."
Galadriel felt the tide of anger rise again but fought back the bitter words that threatened to spill forth. "Indeed. Shall I assemble and lead the party?"
Halbrand looked at her quizzically. "Of course not. I need you here. Theo or Ontamo can lead the force."
Galadriel forced herself to consider the situation, swallowing her anger. "Ontamo is needed here to lead the training of the militia, and Theo is still untried in the field. Perhaps Isildur?"
Halbrand nodded absently, already focused again on his papers. "Whoever you think best. You know the soldiers better than I. I trust you."
Galadriel felt a wave of nausea at the offhand remark. She quickly excused herself and left the palace, hardly registering Tindómëon's bow as she passed him.
I trust you.
She needed to get outside, into the open air. Perhaps the sight of the water would clear her head.
She stumbled past the healing house and fell to her knees on the riverbank, feeling the gravel and thin grass crunch painfully beneath her.
Trust.
Galadriel let her head fall back and the sun warm her face. Closing her eyes against the glare, she forced herself to breathe slowly.
In and out. In and out.
He trusted her. Despite everything. Despite their millennia as adversaries, fighting as opposing generals in the great war for the future of creation, he trusted her. And, though she was loathe to admit it even in the confines of her own mind, she had at some point come to trust him as well.
May the Valar save me.
She shivered despite the warmth of the sun.
AN: I am so sorry for the delay in getting this out. Life has been busy, and I've been having a bit of trouble translating my thoughts into words for the upcoming couple of chapters. I hope you find this chapter was worth the wait. I certainly enjoyed writing it.