Isildur Read online

  "Hmph," grunted Luindor, unconvinced. "Did the Lords tell you then to strip us bare? Did they order us to leave the Gate of the South standing open?"

  "No," admitted Isildur. "The Lords expected me to have a great army at my back when I reached Pelargir, gathered from Calenardhon, and Anglond, and Anfalas, and the southern provinces. Pelargir was just to send the men it could spare from its own defense. And they did not know that the Corsairs were abroad. The Enemy has thwarted our plans at every step."

  "Then perhaps the plans need to be changed. Can you not send to the Lords and seek new instructions?"

  "There is no time now. The fate of Pelargir, indeed of all of Gondor, is but one piece of a great engine that has been set in motion. All will come together at the Council in Osgiliath, but six days hence. We must be there, and in sufficient force to be effective, or all hope of winning the war is lost."

  "But, Sire…" began Luindor.

  "Luindor," said Barathor, "we have long been friends and we are as one on matters that concern the safety of Pelargir. But I also know Isildur and his love of the city and its people. I know he would not ask this of us if there were any other way. If he says Cirdan is coming, then he will come. And if he says we must ride to Osgiliath, then we must ride."

  "I do not doubt it, my lord, but yet I fear to leave our shores unguarded for even a moment."

  "You speak for all of us, Captain," said Isildur. "But these are difficult times, and ours are hard choices. We cannot afford to do as our hearts list. I had dearly hoped to leave for Osgiliath today or tonight at the latest, but now we must delay another night. We must leave early tomorrow, whatever happens. Let us pray that Cirdan arrives tonight."

  There was nothing more to be said, and all returned to their tasks. In the evening Isildur and Ohtar again climbed the tower and gazed out over the lamplit streets of the city. But their eyes looked beyond the roofs and chimneys of Pelargir, beyond the walls, to the broad Anduin, gleaming faintly in the dusk. In all that long reach of River, where yesterday all had been bustling activity, no craft now stirred. The greater part of the fleet and all of the merchant ships were tied up at the quays or moored nearby in the Sirith.

  The city slowly quieted as final preparations were completed. The necessary supplies had been gathered, divided, and packed. The men were all armed and drawn up into companies. Now they fell to the harder task of waiting. A thin layer of smoke from the cooking fires rose above the walls to hang motionless in the darkling sky. The flaming color in the west faded to purple and the first stars appeared. Looking down, they could see other groups of people here and there along the parapets, straining their eyes into the dusk for a glimpse of the Elves. One by one these other watchers descended to their beds, leaving only the guards.

  Isildur seemed determined to wait all night if he had to. Ohtar waited with him, but at last he settled into an embrasure, wrapped his cloak around him, and fell asleep. His last sight was of Isildur standing above him, tall against the stars, peering into the west.

  * * *

  It seemed only a moment later that Isildur clutched Ohtar's shoulder.

  "The Elves are come," he said softly. Ohtar sprang up quickly, shaking off his dreams, and looked to the west. The moon, now waxing to first quarter, was setting beyond the River, turning it to glittering diamonds. For a moment he could see nothing. But then, far away at the edge of sight and still very small, he found one diamond that did not twinkle, but shone with a cool pure light. Behind it he could just begin to make out the outline of a ship, black against silver. It was beating up the River toward them, the gentle night wind just filling the sail.

  "Your eyes are better than mine, Sire," he said. "Is it indeed Cirdan at last?"

  "It is an Elven ship, I am sure. A cog, I believe — one of their lighter, faster ships. Odd that it should be in the van instead of Cirdan's flagship. Still, it would move more easily against the current. Perhaps they have outrun the rest of the fleet."

  At that moment a cry went up from the parapet below them. The lookouts too had now spied the ship. They heard a quick debate, then running feet, taking the word to the Lord of the city. A bell rang in a distant tower. The ship neared the far shore and tacked toward the city. They could hear faint shouting down at the quays now, and a jouncing lantern showed running legs coming up the lane from the River.

  Isildur still peered into the west. "Where are the rest?" he muttered through tight lips. "Where are the others?" Then he whirled and rushed headlong down the winding stairs. Ohtar stumbled breathless after him.

  They met Barathor near the gate leading a mounted party and bearing a blazing torch. Behind him in the dark were several other prominent citizens looking rumpled and sleepy, along with a score of soldiers. The gate creaked as it was opened.

  "There you are, Sire," Barathor called when Isildur pelted out of an alley into the broad street. "I have brought horses for you and your esquire."

  Clambering up, they set off at once down the road to the River. By the time they reached the quays the ship was much closer, heeling slightly in the gentle night breeze as it beat in to the shore. A crowd was already gathering at the head of the dock. An awe fell over them, and they stood silently watching. All could now see the long white pennon floating from the masthead. The ship was white, low and long, but broad amidships. The stern rose high and arched over the after part of the deck, ending in a carved swan's head. White wings sheltered the figures that stood there. The stem rose high and ended in a large oval lantern, like a cage of mithril silver. From it shone the strange cool white light that illumined now the faces of the watching throng.

  The sail rattled down and several figures moved forward and quickly secured it along the yard. The ship ghosted silently toward the dock as if out of a dream, and indeed for most of those watching the Elves were as creatures out of legend. They knew they existed in far-off lands, but never had Elves sailed up Anduin since before the city was built over a thousand years ago. Pale figures could be seen moving about the deck, readying lines and mats for docking, but no sound could be heard save the gentle lapping at the cutwater.

  Suddenly then the ship loomed large before them and soft gray lines looped through the night to land at their feet. The nearest men looked down at them for a few seconds, but then a seaman's rough voice rang out. "Are you frozen, lads? Haul and make fast. Belay those lines!" The spell was broken. The lines were secured and eager hands on both ends drew the ship against the dock. The ship was beautiful and magical, but it grated reassuringly real against the stones before a mat was adjusted. A plank was swung across to the shore and a tall figure in a long grey cloak strode across. He was fair and golden-haired. His mail was of mithril silver that caught the moon's light and set it dancing about his feet. Isildur stepped forth.

  "Welcome to Gondor, Gildor Inglorion. Elen síla lúmenn omentilmo." The Elf clasped both the king's arms in affection and stood smiling at him. Tall as Isildur was, Gildor towered over him.

  "Hail Isildur Elf-friend," he said. His voice was soft, like the sighing of leaves at twilight. "I rejoice in our meeting. Long and perilous have been our ways since we parted in the thunder of the Falls of Rauros."

  "Glad indeed are we to see you also, my friend. But where is Cirdan and the rest of your fleet?"

  Gildor smiled, glancing at the anxious faces all about him. "Do not fear, good people of Gondor. I was sent ahead to bring you word that all is well. The Elves of Lindon will be at Osgiliath for the Council at the appointed hour. Cirdan's Fleet is nigh."

  These words were heard by many standing near, and a cry of joy went up from the Pelargrim. "Cirdan is nigh! The Elves are here! We are saved!" The word spread swiftly through the people now hurrying from the gate. Soon the glad cries could be heard at the gate, then from the walls, and soon the whole city was awake. Bells pealed from many towers. Gildor looked around in some surprise at the evident relief of the people. His smile faded as he saw the concern on every face.

  "We have gat
hered far fewer men than we had hoped," Isildur explained, "and the Corsairs are abroad again. The Lord of this city has pledged his aid, but he will not leave the Gate of the South ajar to the pirates of Umbar. He will not ride with us until Cirdan's ships are guarding the River."

  "We saw no sign of a Corsair fleet, neither at sea nor when we crossed the bay," said Gildor, "and the White Fleet should arrive today." Then all were glad, and the Elves were ushered into the city in a joyous parade. They accompanied Isildur to his camp where they sat long around a campfire, exchanging news of their respective journeys. Isildur told them of the difficulties and disappointments he had encountered on his journey around the Ered Nimrais. He spoke bitterly of the betrayal of the Eredrim.

  Gildor shook his head. "These are evil times, when friends will not come to the aid of friends. I encountered much the same when I went to see the Dwarves in their great delvings at Hadhodrond, that they call in their own tongue Khazad-dûm. Those halls are great indeed, and filled with Dwarves of many kindreds. We had hoped that ten thousand would join us in our cause. They listened to my plea, and they met long and argued this way and that. At the last they decided that the war with Sauron was not their war, and they refused us. Of all the Dwarves only a handful of Durin's line seemed inclined to join us."

  "That is a great disappointment," said Isildur, "for the Dwarves are fierce warriors and will not quail in a battle. But I am not surprised. They often remain aloof and keep their own counsels. Still, the ancient line of Durin has always been friendliest to Elves and Men." Isildur stifled a yawn.

  "Now I am weary in my bones," he said. "If you will excuse me, Gildor, I feel great need for sleep, for I hope that Cirdan will arrive tomorrow and there will be much to do." The Elves left him then and spent the night walking about the city, viewing the buildings and works of Men.

  But dawn came and the sun climbed high and still but one swan floated at the quays. In mid-morning Barathor called a council in his Great Court. The chiefs of the Pelargrim were there, as were Isildur and Ingold and the leaders of their divisions. Then all eyes went to the main entrance, where Gildor and his Sea-Elves entered and bowed to Barathor and the king. They took their seats and looked about at the men and the hall with interest. Barathor opened the council and called first upon Gildor.

  "Gildor Inglorion of Lindon, I bid you and your people welcome to Pelargir. Too long has it been since the Firstborn have visited us here in the south."

  "Thank you, Lord Barathor. Indeed it has been long since we walked in these lands, even in the reckoning of the Elves. For my own part it is a return to a land I once knew well. In fact, I once visited this very hill where your fair city now stands. It must be more than twelve yén ago now, before the first war with Sauron."

  The men looked at Gildor in astonishment, for they knew that a yén was one hundred forty-four years. And that meant that Gildor had been here centuries before the city was founded over a thousand years ago. They had come to accept that Isildur was over a century old, but this smiling Elf's casual comment struck them dumb with wonder.

  Gildor appeared not to notice the sudden silence that fell on the listeners. "Let us hope that we may exchange visits more often," he went on, "now that our kindreds are acting in concert once again."

  "It would give us great pleasure to have the fair people as our guests at any time," said Barathor. "But you are especially welcome now, as we have been very anxious about the Corsairs of Umbar, especially as we withdrew our fleet from the Bay of Belfalas. We are most concerned how long we must lie thus open to attack. We must ask you for your best estimate of Cirdan's arrival at Pelargir."

  Gildor bowed to the Lord. "The fleet was nearing readiness when I sailed from Mithlond on the eleventh day of this month," he said. "The last ships were still being loaded. They would surely have sailed in another day or two at the most. My Varda travels somewhat faster than the fleet, of course. I would expect him this day or before the end of the next."

  The entire company relaxed and Barathor broke into a wide smile, the first seen on his face in many a day. "Your news is most welcome, Gildor," he said. "In these latter times we rarely have good news from any quarter, and my mind has not been easy in my decision to leave the River unguarded. Now at last we will have strong friends at our backs, so that we may advance. We are nearly in readiness. We shall ride with Isildur to Osgiliath as soon as Cirdan arrives."

  But Isildur then spoke. "My lord, the time is very precious. Every day we tarry here, the enemy has one more day to learn of our plans and to plot against us. Only by a swift and united stroke can we hope to defeat the forces arrayed against us. Many peoples and armies are moving in Middle-earth as we sit here, and they will be gathering at Osgiliath only four days hence. We must leave tomorrow if we are to reach Osgiliath in time."

  "Then let us hope," said Barathor, "that when the sun first tops the mountain in the morning, she sees a hundred swan ships in the roads." Many of the Pelargrim murmured their agreement.

  That night Isildur went not to the Blue Tower, but left the watching to others. The walls and parapets were lined with eager eyes, each wishing to be the first to spy the Elves. Isildur left word to be awakened when the first sail was seen, but no call came and the night passed slowly. Morning found the River empty and the people growing again troubled and anxious. "Will they never come?" was the question on everyone's lips. When they had broken their fast, Isildur and Ohtar went to the Great Court seeking Barathor. They found him in his chambers near the court, speaking with Duitirith and Luindor.

  Isildur hailed Barathor. "Lord, the time has come. I must ride this morning for Osgiliath. Will you ride with me?"

  Barathor glanced quickly at Luindor. "My king," said he, "some there are among my people who counsel me to abide here until Cirdan's forces are in place."

  Isildur turned to face Luindor. "Well I understand your fears, Captain," he said. "But we can wait no longer. Great events are afoot. Gildor assures you that Cirdan is near, perhaps even now meeting with your pickets at the Ethir. The time for caution is past. Would you have orcs streaming down the River Road, burning your lands and slaying your people before you march against them?"

  "Nay, Sire," replied Luindor, flushing hot, "but our men are needed here in Pelargir. We have a good bridge, high walls, and a strong fleet. Fully manned, we can hold the southlands against the minions of Mordor. But we must have the men. The walls alone will not stop the orcs for long. You would have us strip our defenses and bare our breasts to the Black Ones."

  "I would instead have you gird yourselves and confront the evil in its own places, so that Pelargir and the southlands may not be torn by the cloven hooves of War. I tell you the time to strike is now. Even now, watching eyes are peering across Anduin, spying out our encampment here. Perhaps they already know that I am here. Messengers may at this moment be hurrying to Mordor with the news. Soon Sauron will be pondering what it means, perhaps guessing where our stroke will fall, strengthening his forces there. We must not delay, not another hour. Great powers are gathering at Osgiliath, and we must be there."

  "But, Sire," said Duitirith, "surely there can be no council until Cirdan himself comes. Could we not wait and ride with him to Osgiliath?"

  Isildur's eyes flashed as his temper rose. "Again I tell you nay. We will wait for no one, not even for Cirdan and his Sea-Elves. We go now to the capital to meet with others whose powers are greater even than Cirdan's, for all his Elvish magic. There can be no further delay. Events are already in motion that will change the world forever, for good or ill. Doom has taken up his gaming cup and we must be there when the die is cast. The time for talk is past. Captain, whom do you serve?"

  Luindor stammered, taken aback by the question. "Why… I serve the Lord of Pelargir, of course," he said firmly.

  Isildur turned then upon Barathor. "And you, Lord Barathor? Whom do you serve?"

  Barathor at once fell to his knee. "You, my king. Ever has Pelargir been loyal to the King of Gondor. I s
hall do now as both my king and my heart command. I shall be stayed no more by gainsayers. Today we ride to Osgiliath!"

  Isildur clapped his arm on Barathor's shoulder. "Well said, old friend. I knew you would not fail me at the last. Now, let us ride!"

  Barathor sprang to his feet and began barking out orders to his messengers. Isildur sent Ohtar to the camp to pass the order to strike the tents. The court burst into activity as men hurried in every direction. Barathor turned then to his captains.

  "You must not let any watching enemy realize just how short of men you are. Duitirith, you must try to maintain the usual number of guards upon the walls. They are the most conspicuous and any change in their number is sure to be noticed. Use every available man, and if you must, dress women or old men in armor and have them pace the walls. See that there are always figures moving about on the battlements. Have them carry torches at night. Give the impression of a well-fortified and prepared defense. After dark, have people go out and light campfires outside the walls. A score of boys should be able to keep a hundred fires burning all night, and it will look as if a thousand men are still camped before the walls.

  "And Luindor, gather the remaining seamen together and take at least one ship out as often as possible. Sail a few leagues down the River, then hoist a sail of a different color and return. The enemy may think it is two ships. They must not realize the River is unguarded. Have people moving about on the ships at the quays, anywhere they can be seen from the far shore. Do what you can. The ruse should not have to work more than a day or two at the most. Before the orcs realize we're gone, the Elves will be here. Go now, and instruct your men." They bowed and left, just as Barathor's esquires arrived with his panoply and arms.

  Soon all was ready. The tents were all struck and stowed on the wains and the army was formed up on the River Road along the east bank of the Sirith, hidden from any unfriendly eyes by the bluffs on the west bank of Anduin. Isildur rode with Ohtar and Gildor to meet Barathor at the city gates. They waited there a few moments in silence. Then came a thunder of hooves from the shadow of the gate and Barathor rode forth at the head of a long column of the knights of Pelargir. He sat a huge black war horse and both he and his mount gleamed in black armor chased in gold. From his helm streamed a long plume and beside him flew his banner, both the hue of the famed Blue Tower of Pelargir.