Isildur Page 10

  "Every year the Corsairs grow more powerful and more bold. Their attack last year was on a settlement in the Ethir Anduin, not twenty leagues from here. Some there are who whisper that they might even attempt an attack on Pelargir herself, though I myself believe they would not be so foolish. Still, they could be at sea even as we speak."

  "They are indeed," said Isildur suddenly. "It is most certain."

  Heleth blanched and gripped the hand of her husband, and the guests glimpsed for a moment the great fear with which the Pelargrim share their lives.

  "We have had no reports of pirates off the coasts this half year or more," protested Barathor.

  "I have seen them with my own eyes," replied Isildur, "and within the month past has this blade been crossed with those of Umbar."

  "Alas," cried Heleth. "Full oft do the black sails ghost through our nightmares. But it is chilling indeed to know they sail again in reality."

  Barathor looked close at Isildur. "It would seem there are tales and tales here. If the Corsairs are abroad again I would know all you can tell me."

  "Aye, there is a tale indeed, though it is not a pleasant one. Know you that we have marched around the whole of the Ered Nimrais, seeking allies for our struggle with the Dark Lord. But we crossed all of Calenardhon with little aid to us, and we grew discouraged. When we came unto Anglond it was at peace and many there were eager to ride with us to the relief of Ithilien. But the very day we arrived, the Pirates of Umbar fell upon the city and we were besieged there. They came in many long ships and they put the fields and the farms to the torch, until the sky was darkened with the reek. The folk of the country flew to arms and most reached the safety of the walls, but those caught in the fields or on the roads, the old and the lame, were hacked down like wheat before our eyes." Heleth hid her face in her hands.

  "Two weeks were we besieged there, while all about us bands of pirates pillaged the land, taking all they could bear off and despoiling the rest. Again and again they drove against the walls, but we held firm, and in the end they withdrew and sailed away to the south."

  "They remained in siege for two weeks?" exclaimed Barathor. "They have grown bold indeed. They usually strike quickly and are gone in a few hours. It is not like them to lay a siege against a strongly held town."

  "Aye," agreed Ohtar, "the people of Anglond were not prepared for so strong an assault. There was but little rejoicing when they sailed at last, for many had died and the spring crops were destroyed, the livestock slain. We fear they will have a hard time of it when winter comes. We tarried with them until the dead were buried and the defenses repaired, but when we left that sad place, few indeed of the brave knights of Anglond marched with us. Many were needed to rebuild the town and the farms, others to toil in the fields to gather what might be gained before autumn, and still more mouldered beneath the great down and tall menhir before the gates of the city."

  "This is grave news indeed," mourned Barathor. "The people of Anglond are our friends and allies, and we have good trade with them in safer times. May they find peace." He was silent for a moment, but then he looked again at Isildur.

  "But you say you received little help from Calenardhon? What of the brave lords of the vast grasslands? Did they not rally to you?"

  Isildur shook his head. "The plains of Calenardhon are vast indeed, but few people live there. The only town of any size is at the great citadel of Angrenost in the southern end of the Mountains of Mist. The army of Gondor has long maintained a garrison there, for it is a wild and strange country, bordered as it is by the wild lands of Dunland and the mysterious Forest of Fangorn. The mountains have always been dangerous, but they have become much more so of late. Trolls and orcs and huge wolves roam those dark forests, and it is even said that the trees walk in the deep reaches of Fangorn. Of this we cannot swear, but the orcs are real enough, for we spied several roaming bands in the brief time we were there. The garrison was already undermanned since the muster for the war in the east, and they could spare but few. Still, threescore volunteered to join us, and they have proven fierce warriors and horsemen without equal."

  Duitirith struck his fist down on the table. "A curse on all the servants of evil! They thwart us on every side. And were there no others to aid you in all the northern provinces?"

  Isildur shook his head sadly. "No. We had hoped for a thousand or more, and as many from Anglond, but it was not to be."

  "Then all the host we see with you now is from the southlands?" asked Duitirith. "Still, I should have thought more would have risen to you."

  "The worst is not yet told," said Isildur. Heleth raised her eyes to him, and he could see that tears already brimmed there. "I am sorry, lady, to be the bearer of such ill tidings, but we live in evil times."

  "Tell us all, Sire," said Barathor.

  "After leaving Anglond we marched toward Ethir Lefnui in Anfalas. But on the way we met the remnants of the people of that city. The Corsairs have sacked Lefnui and destroyed it utterly." Heleth gave a wail of grief and all nearby gasped in dismay.

  "There were no more than thirty survivors all told. The rest were slain. The city was pulled down to ruin. There was no longer any point in journeying there. And so we pressed on through the highlands and crossed the river Lefnui near its source, not at its mouth as we had intended. A week of hard travelling brought us to the banks of the Morthond. There we struck the road which follows the river up from Ringlond, away down on the coast. Turning north, we passed through the great Blackroot Gorge with the river roaring and foaming far below, and emerged at last into the high valley of Erech. There indeed my chief hope lay, for the Eredrim are a strong nation and already sworn to our aid.

  "We met there with their lord Romach and I called them to fulfill their oath. But they had taken evil counsel and they refused me in despite of their word. For their minds had been turned against us by an emissary from Umbar."

  "The cursed Black Pirates again," cried Duitirith, leaping to his feet. "They have ever conspired against us and harassed our ports and shipping. I urge you again, father. Let us sail against them and drive them forever from the sea!" Several of the younger knights shouted their agreement.

  Barathor shook his head. "We dare not. Not yet. They are mighty indeed, and we are sorely weakened by the war. It is all we can do to keep them from our shores."

  "They are the tools of the Dark Lord," said Isildur. "They work his will, thinking in their vanity that they will rule beside him when we are destroyed. They are but poor pawns to be swept from the board when he has no more use for them. We must first unite to strike down Sauron, then gladly will I take ship with you against Umbar."

  But Barathor's brow was knitted with concern. "Yet now it seems we have yet another enemy at our door. The Eredrim are many and fierce in battle, and Romach a clever and experienced commander. If they marched against us, we could be hard-pressed to hold the bridge against them."

  "I do not believe that the Eredrim will assail you," said Isildur. "They have refused us their aid, it is true, but I doubt that they would take up arms against us. Romach hopes to hide in his fastnesses beneath the mountains until the war is over, then seek the favor of the victor. But they swore allegiance to me many years ago and they shall not so easily evade their duty. Romach has chosen to wait in the mountains and not come down. But he shall abide there much longer than he had thought, for I have read their weird and laid their fate. They shall remain forever in their holds, to death and beyond, until they fulfill their oath." And he fell silent, grim and thoughtful.

  Then did the company look upon their king with wonder. Again they were reminded of the strangeness and power of this man from the far places of the lost West. Those that knew him best read his grim eyes and saw the anger that burned there. This treachery of the Eredrim had struck deep, the last and cruelest blow to all his plans for victory. The Lords of the Alliance had expected a great host to be in his train by the time he reached Pelargir, and for many more to join him here. And they had p
laced their greatest hopes in the Eredrim. He thought of Malithôr with his proud heritage and bearing, meanly performing Sauron's errands, and his fist clenched on his wine horn.

  Then Isildur became aware of the long silence that had fallen on the company and their fearful stares as they looked on him.

  "But enough of sad tales and the litany of our woes," he said. "No more shall we bear the insults of our enemies. The time for a final stroke approaches. The need is great and the time is short. My Lord Barathor, I have need of all the men and supplies of war that you can spare."

  Barathor stared down at the table and paused long before replying. "I had expected your request, Sire, and I burn with shame at the reply I must give. I can offer you perhaps five hundred stout yeomen, my liege. More we cannot spare."

  "Five hundred?" exclaimed the king in dismay. "But I need ten times that number. Barathor, you know well our need."

  Barathor looked up sadly and held out his empty hands. "My king, I can give you food, arms, and a few of the other supplies you require. But I cannot give you what you most request of me. Some six thousand of our men marched with Belrund to join your father at Dagorlad. That is seven years past now and still they have not returned. They are sorely missed, for we are threatened on every side and continuously harassed. We are a large city with broad and productive fields and many villages round about. We are spread thin to protect what we have. And we are charged with the guard of the bridge, and of the Great River as well. Our fleet patrols the myriad channels of the Ethir Anduin and all the coast as far as the rockbound shores of Linhir. We can barely hold our own with fifty ships afloat, and all sorely undermanned. My captains are constantly begging me for more men, but there are none to spare.

  "Our men are needed here in Pelargir, my liege, or the Gate of the South will be but an open door to our enemies. With a reduced force we could perhaps hold the bridge and beat back the orc raids, but we dare not reduce the fleet or I could not answer for the safety of the Anduin. As you yourself told us, the Corsairs are abroad. They could come up the River at any time. If Pelargir falls, it is but a short sail to Osgiliath herself. It will be to no avail for us to ride to victory in Mordor, only to find all of Gondor in the hands of the Corsairs upon our return."

  Isildur looked hard at the Lord of Pelargir. "Barathor, we have been friends for many years. There has never been deceit between us. I know that you speak truly and that the safety of Pelargir and indeed all of Gondor is your only concern. But I say unto you that final victory or defeat will come in the next few weeks. Victory may be within our grasp, but only if we act now in a concerted stroke. The Alliance is in dire need of your aid. Gil-galad and my father considered all the options carefully, and well they know the dangers you face. But they felt that the risk must be taken. Without your assistance, we have but little hope. The fate of the West is in your hands. I tell you in all candor that the situation in Mordor is grave beyond your reckoning."

  "Grave no doubt, but is the Dark Lord not shut up within his Tower? You at least know where your foe is and can turn a united face against him. But we have foes on every hand and must guard all the ways at once. You are in a position of power in Gorgoroth, while we can do little but wait for an unseen blow to fall."

  Isildur nodded. "We encircle the Barad-dûr, it is true, but think not that Sauron is our prisoner. We are as much his. The Tower is impregnable, we have learned that to our cost. We can neither enter in nor force him out. And the long siege is no hardship to him. His slaves and his resources are unlimited and time has no meaning for such as he, who has lived through long ages of the earth. He waits in comfort in his own halls, while we endure in the desert, fighting and dying every day and growing the weaker for it. Seven years! Seven years, lords, and we are no nearer victory than when we first saw that accursed Tower. The truth is, my friends, that we cannot defeat him with the forces we have. A new weapon must be brought to bear on him, a new army to attack where and when he does not expect it. I can say no more at this time, but it is my errand to gather all available men for this assault. Other forces too are gathering at Osgiliath for a great council on Midsummer's Day. There all will be revealed. I have scoured half of Middle-earth and been thwarted at every turn. Pelargir is our last hope. There are no others to be called upon."

  Barathor sat with anguish writ plain upon his face. "Isildur, my king, do I not love you as a brother? Does my heart not grieve for your many tragedies? It pains me to have you think me either disloyal or shy of combat. My wealth, my honor, my life will I gladly give for you. But you ask the one thing I cannot give — I cannot give you my city, for it is not mine to give. It belongs to its people and to their ancestors who died for it, and to their descendants who would live here in peace. If I sent them to war with you, Isildur, they would almost certainly find no city upon their return. Is this then what you demand?"

  Isildur stared long at him, but then he touched his arm gently, saying, "I do not doubt either the loyalty or the courage of you or Pelargir, Barathor. I know all too well the perils you face. I know you are acting as your conscience demands." He sat a while in deep and gloomy thought, then looked again at his friend.

  "But perhaps there is yet a way. Other events are occurring across the wide face of Middle-earth that may yet resolve your dilemma." He leaned close to whisper in the lord's ear. "Barathor, would you trust all in this hall with knowledge that could mean life or death to Pelargir and even all of Gondor?"

  Barathor looked about the table, eyes searching each face. Then he nodded. "There is no danger here, Sire. All are friends or kinsmen and their loyalty is long proven."

  Isildur nodded. He turned and addressed the company. "Then I may entrust to you a secret known to none but myself and the Lords of the Alliance, and that must not become known to the Enemy or we are all lost.

  "You say you need your men to guard the Great River against the Corsairs. But what if the River were guarded by others, if you could be certain that no pirates could slip up it? Could you not then grant my request?"

  The company stared at him in amazement. Duitirith was the first to find his voice. "But Sire, it is not just the count of men that guard the River, but the many strong ships and experienced seamen to sail and fight them. You cannot replace them with soldiers or farmers. What force save our own could guard the River? Is this a jest?"

  "Isildur does not jest in such things, Duitirith," said his father. "I say unto you, Isildur, that if the River were guarded, and guarded, mind you, so well that none could pass despite their numbers, then we would fear no attack. Our walls and the bridge are strong. A few hundred picked men could hold them at need against a far stronger foe. But the River is the weak point in our shield wall. There is no other fleet in all of Middle-earth mighty enough to stop the Corsairs if they should come in force."

  Isildur smiled grimly. "None other? What of the White Fleet of Lindon?"

  "The Elves?" stammered Duitirith. "But… Elves sailing in these waters? Oft have we heard the tales of the mighty Sea-Elves of Lindon, but never in the memory of our oldest grandsires has a swan ship breasted the seas of the south. In truth, many of us have come to believe they are but figures in the old stories. But they are said to be legendary sailors and mighty warriors."

  "If the tales be true," said Barathor, "they are mighty indeed. But the tales also tell us the Grey Havens are far, far to the north, a ride of many weeks or even months away. And even if they were willing and able to come to our aid immediately, it would take weeks to prepare and provision their ships and a fortnight more at least to sail here. If a rider left today we could not hope to see them before mid-winter. Even then we would have to recall all our ships and gather and organize the seamen and then ride to Osgiliath. And yet you say you want us in Osgiliath on Midsummer's Day, and that is but a week away."

  Isildur was nodding his head. "All that you say is true, my lords," he said. "And yet I say unto you, people of Pelargir," and he raised his voice so all could hear, "that even as
we speak here tonight, the White Fleet of Lindon is at sea, and should now be approaching the Mouths of Anduin."

  The hall erupted in confusion, with everyone speaking at once. "The Elves?" "Did he say the Elves were coming here?" "But… but…," stammered Barathor. "But how could this be?"

  Isildur held up his hand for silence, and the tumult gradually subsided. "You know that we have ridden around the Ered Nimrais, mustering all the fighting men we could gather. But we are not alone. Even as we left Gorgoroth on this long journey, others were setting out on another, far longer, journey. Gildor Inglorion, one of the greatest of the Elvish captains, rode north at the bidding of his lord Gil-galad. He was to ride north, to seek aid in the lands of Lothlórien and Khazad-dûm. From thence he was to ride to Cirdan the Shipwright at Mithlond. Gil-galad's orders to Cirdan were to put the White Fleet in readiness and to sail to Osgiliath at once with every ship that can swim."

  "But could he have reached Mithlond already?" asked Guthmar. "That is four hundred leagues at least."

  "It is two months and more since we departed from the Barad-dûr together, and Elves ride very swiftly at need. Gildor was told to make all haste, so that they should be at Osgiliath for the Council. They should be sighted any day."

  "But this is news good beyond all hope," cried Heleth, her lovely smile breaking out for the first time. "To think that Elves would sail all that long way for our help. Elves! I have never even seen one of the Firstborn. Elves to guard us! Oh, I feel as if a weight has been lifted from me!"