CHAPTER 2: THE RACE TO FORNOST

The rustling sounds turned to the all too familiar screeching which accompanied Orcs as they attacked. They seemed to come from every direction, filling the cavern with their echoing sounds. The group of warriors stood their ground and waited for the black bodies of their enemy to reach them.

Eldacar quickly ended the lives of three, his men finishing the remaining few. An eerie silence hung in the air, permeated with Orc stench.

Something was wrong. The attack should have been more intense then this; Orcs always attacked in swarms with the idea of overwhelming any foe they encountered.

Looking over at his cousin with her dagger in hand, he noticed that she was ready to fight if need be. Summoning the column forward, the small troop warily moved on. Maybe their main force, with both Haradrim and Orcs, had yet to be encountered.

The smell of fresh air could be felt at times, just barely perceptible over the smell in the cavern; they were near the exit.

Celdirion cried out, “On the right!” He parried and thrust his sword into the soft, vulnerable Orc innards, quickly withdrew it and sliced the head off another. Torondor, coming to his aid, stood at his back, slicing and stabbing black bodies as they came.

It suddenly struck Eldacar. This was nothing more than a delaying tactic, the main enemy force was probably half way to Fornost by now! He summoned Aiya, and his men. “This was nothing more than a delaying tactic to slow us down!” he exclaimed, breathing heavily. Eldacar looked over at Celdirion. “Get the mounts up front, quickly, we are running out of time!” As he said this, Aiya was already running to the rear towards the horses. She realized that they were at the mercy of time, none of it being on their side!

Celdirion bolted towards the rear to get the mounts, Torondor following to get the column organized and moving.

Shaking his head grimly, Eldacar quickly calculated the time they were in the cavern. By the Gods of Valar, they would have to make up this time, fast, or the troops approaching Fornost could be in danger of being ambushed. Especially if they hadnÂ’t reached the ruined city first and dug in along DeadmenÂ’s Dike.

Aiya was on her mount quickly coming towards Eldacar. She had his in tow. He quickly mounted, barking orders, “Aiya, you will stay here while I take Celdirion, Torondor and a few othersÂ…” His voice trailed in the midst of his cousinÂ’s protests.

“I am not staying here by any means!” she exclaimed in heated breath. He had no time to argue, and he knew it wouldnÂ’t do any good, anyway. Aiya had a mind of her own.

He had to try and catch up with the main force of enemy troops before they made it to their destination, if that was where they were headed. Pulling the reins of his mount towards the exit he galloped away, Aiya and his men bringing up his rear.

Turning towards his tracker, he yelled, “Keep out in front if you can and tell us which way they are headed.”

Tearing out in front of him, the trooper motioned for his companions to follow. They were the troops best trackers. ‘If they couldnÂ’t find a sign then no one could,Â’ he thought to himself. “Idril, do you see anything?” The response was a shake of the head, but they were determined to follow the orders of their leader, whatever it took.

After a time a muffled exclamation brought Celdirion to a halt. The man on his right had picked up a sign and indicated the direction. It was, indeed, toward Fornost as Eldacar had thought. They had dismounted to take a closer look when the rest of the troop approached.

Celdirion waved his sword in the air, directed to Eldacar, and pointed out the way in which the signs indicated a large party had passed. Kneeling, just to make sure, he had discovered two separate types of footprints, those of Orcs, and Men. They had been correct in their assumptions. The Haradrim had joined the Orcs to create a much more formidable force!

Leaping on his horse, he took off in an effort to catch Eldacar and the rest of the troop, who had veered towards the direction he had indicated. Galloping hard he rode to the side of Eldacar. “Sir, a large party of both Orcs and Men traveled this way not too very long ago.”

His leader nodded once, grimly. Hopefully they would catch up to the enemy, he thought as Aiya expertly guided her mount along his other side.

She had been listening to the exchange. “Cousin, why not send a scout ahead, if he is fast enough perhaps he can tell us just where the enemy force is.”

“Better yet, Aiya, I think we should see to the other part of our troops so they donÂ’t get ambushed.” Saying this, he then motioned for Arnel, who rode up beside him. “I have a mission for you. I want you to try and discover where the rest of our troop is, and warn them about this allied force of Orcs and Haradrim headed their way. If we can get them into Fornost, and fortified before the enemy reaches them, then I have a plan. Tell Celdirion to come up here, too.”

At this point the party had changed to a slower pace. The horses would have to be rested if another attack was to take place.

Celdirion came up to his commanderÂ’s side and Eldacar told him of his strategy, if he could get it to work.

“If we could catch them in a pincer movement, with us on one side and the rest of the troop on the other we might have a running chance. The Dike would afford our companions a good place to begin the ambush, and just maybe we can come in on the other side and surprise them. But this all depends on how fast we can get there.”

Horses had to be rested, as well as men. The troop was forced, by the coming of nightfall, to stop and make camp, eat, and feed their mounts.

A small vale had been chosen which had a tiny stream providing fresh water for both men and horses. The high ground above it was a perfect place for posting guards, on the lookout for any wandering enemy who might take advantage of their rest.

Aiya found a small green verge with a giant tree protecting it. The branches drooped down over the tiny meadow and the trickling stream created a safe haven, of sorts, in the midst of all of this warrior activity. Building a fire, she lay her cloak down, bunching the hood up to make a pillow and wearily gazed at the water flowing slowly past.

Eldacar came and sat down beside her, and he, too, gazed at the peaceful surroundings. It seemed like another world.

“It reminds me a little of Rivendell in a way,” she said softly. “Some day I hope to return there. Perhaps to learn more. But,” she added wistfully, “I have heard that the Elves will be leaving this land before too long. I will surely miss them.”

“It would be a very wonderful world without all this war, I will admit,” agreed Eldacar. “But, we will have to go along with the tide of things IÂ’m afraid, until the evil which invades our land has been overcome.” With that thought planted in his cousinÂ’s head, he went off to brief the troops, and Aiya, knowing that she would also play a role in this, followed. This peaceful interlude would be the last for many days to come, but none of this was known at the time. Perhaps later the fire would give her some glimpse of what was to be. She did not know.

The troop was on the move before full daybreak. They were trying to make good time and reach Fornost as soon as possible. The track was a rough one, but passable, and many miles were put between them and their last camp.

Their weather remained fair, as it was now full springtime in this land. The trees had leafed, flowers were blooming on the hillsides, and there was a warm breeze teasing the branches of the trees around them.

At a large pool created by a small waterfall, they had stopped to rest the horses and provide both with water when a horn blew to the left of their position. The troops reacted swiftly, hiding the horses in among the trees and taking up attack positions at strategic points around the area. Silence was all that was heard, other than the song of the birds and the chatter of small animals of the area. They waited, battle ready, and as they watched the path they saw two figures on horseback rounding the bend. They could see one wore the uniform of the Gondorian Guard and relaxed somewhat, but still upheld their watchfulness until they spotted their messenger sent to Fornost.

“Ho, stranger,” called Eldacar, what business have you here?”

“StewardÂ’s business,” came the answer. “And who are you?” challenged this stout Gondorian soldier.

“We are the Patriots of Endor,” stated Eldacar proudly. “We are doing our best to rid this country of Easterlings and Orcs, if all goes well.”

“I am called Darhil of Anfalas, and am a remnant of a unit of the Gondorian Guard. We engaged in battle between Orcs and a village they attacked south of here a fortnight ago. I have been trying to discover if there were others of my unit who may have ridden this way. Your messenger was returning, so I asked if he would guide me.”

“Then you have come near Fornost in your travels?” asked the commander. “We are trailing a group headed towards there, made up of both Haradrim and Orcs. Apparently they have allied and travel that way. Parts of my own troop are also headed in that direction trying to arrive ahead of the enemy to lay a trap for them at DeadmenÂ’s Dike.”

The Gondorian looked puzzled. “Your messenger had little to say about your business back yonder. You are quite some way from the rest of your men, Sir.”

“Yes, we are. ItÂ’s a long story, but the short of it is we were tracking them and here we are,” Eldacar said with a grin.

“Well, since I havenÂ’t found anyone of my unit, I would be honored to join your group for awhile, if I can help in any way. From Fornost I can easily make my way home to Minas Tirith.”

“Any help could always be useful,” nodded the leader, as he studied this stranger. He could see that Darhil was armed well, and looked like he knew full well how to use his weapons in a good fight.

“Fine then, I will join you on your journey to Fornost. I didnÂ’t see anything on my way here, but I was further to the east than you.”

At that exchange the troop mounted their horses and began their journey once more to the southwest.

As they continued their journey they encountered small bands of freemen from villages which had been attacked by the allied enemy. Many tales of pillaging and burning came to light. Terror had struck causing survivors to flee their homes and hide in the surrounding areas, trying to keep out of harmÂ’s way.

All were armed in one way or another. Some told of grabbing ancient relics of their familyÂ’s past ancestors from the walls, while others admitted taking weapons from either the village armory, or from small museums which had been set up to honor the long-past battles of their ancient kin.

These men were accepted into the group and pressed into service by Eldacar as foot warriors. Most had spears, some had swords, many had both. Although this meant slowing down considerably, Eldacar was depending on his scouts and the messenger he had sent earlier to keep him informed of the whereabouts of the enemy, and to warn the rest of his troops who were somewhere west of him on their way to Fornost. The biggest problem seemed to be that while the main force of the Patriot troopers had separated on the west side of the North Downs, this smaller force had emerged on the east side after going through the Orc-hold. If they could meet southward near Fornost, this would be a perfect solution, but things didnÂ’t always work out perfectly, which Eldacar and his group realized.

Darhil rode alongside of Eldacar with a look which told this commander that the Gondorian had something on his mind. “Eldacar, I heard something which may be of interest to you. It was passed among my unit that the leader of this Haradrim force is named Ulfang, and he has with him his two sons, Ulwarth and Ulfast. I heard that he is named for an infamous ancestor of his, as are his two heirs. If this is true, and I have no reason to believe it is not, they may be very fierce in their desire to overcome any who are in their way, to honor these ancestors.”

The commander listened, and after a moment, nodded. “Thank you, Darhil, and could you pass this information on to the troops? It may just make them even more stout of heart, although I feel they probably wonÂ’t need much in the way of reason for fighting the good battle,” he added, smiling grimly.

They were nearing the south most edge of the North Downs ridges. At the end of this lie the ancient city of Fornost, the now ruined and desolate capital of what once was the country known in Middle Earth lore as Arthedain. This country had, at one time in history, been Arnor, ruled by Elendil and his son, Isildur. With the death of one of the later kings, Earendur, his sons had divided Arnor into three countries: Arthedain, Cardolan, and Rhudaur. Ayia knew this history from the lore taught to her in Rivendell by the Elves sometime ago. She wondered just how many of those affected by these battles, attacks, and wars knew the history of this wonderful place called Middle Earth. She was deep in thought when the blare of a horn jerked her back to reality.

Eldacar and the troop reined in abruptly and formed battle ready positions pointed in the approximate direction of the horn blast. Spearmen kneeling in front, bowmen standing behind and mounted warriors ready to charge. But it was another single person on horseback riding toward them. He was dressed in battle gear, as was his horse, and put his hand up in a sign of friendship as he met the head of the troop.

“Hello, my name is Calaval and I have heard from your people in Fornost that you were headed this way. I am a member of the Forever Knights, and would aid you if at all possible, with your permission, of course.”

“You have seen our troop in Fornost?” was the first question asked by Eldacar. “You are welcome, of course,” he added quickly. “But tell us more about our companions, for we havenÂ’t heard from them since being separated by circumstance further northwest in the Downs. I did send a messenger, however, to warn them of the coming of the Haradrim after being told they had, indeed, allied with the Orcs. Though we werenÂ’t certain whether they had made it to Fornost as yet. This is good news!”

“Ah, IÂ’m glad to hear I bring good tidings, for once. I sometimes feel that all news seems bad,” the warrior said as he let out a hearty chuckle. “To answer your question, yes they are dug in at the Dike and awaiting your arrival. The enemy has yet to show themselves. Your Captain at the Dike sent scouts to check the surrounding areas and has posted lookouts on every high point available to him. There had been no signs yet upon my departure.”

“That is a relief, friend Calaval.” Eladacar turned to his second in command and passed the word to quicken the pace and continued his conversation with this new arrival. “Why is it you ride alone, Sir Knight? Where have your companions gone to?”

“My group are busy rendering aid to another village across the northern part of the Baranduin, I believe it is called the Brandywine by the folks in that area. Seems there were some unknown type of raiders unsettling the villages. It was told that these were terrible, black horsemen emitting shrill, shrieking sounds, and riding through the areas dealing death and destruction to all who came into their way. I had other business to tend to so here I am. And glad of it. I was wondering if I would miss out on a good battle!”

Approaching the ruined city from the north, Eldacar and his troops warily and silently neared the area in which the Dike was located. Each man carefully surveyed everything within his view. This was a very difficult task due to the desolation brought about by not only the ages, but also by the war that had raged here at an ancient time.

Aiya, riding close to Darhil, could not help but feel sad and said as much to the warrior. In response he compared it to their destroyed city of Osgiliath, the Gondorian ‘Fortress of the Stars’. It had been more or less abandoned after the great plague of 1636, mid- Third Age, but now it was, again, under attack, systematically, by the dark forces of Mordor. They were attempting to destroy the outer defenses of Minas Tirith by attacking the ruined city on the banks of the River Anduin, and had, as yet, been quite successful.

“It is sad to see what used to be such a fine city as Osgiliath in such ruins, my Lady. The Dome of Stars, I have heard, was magnificent. The home of the palantir of the South, so they say,” and his voice trailed off as they passed by giant, broken columns scattered among green grassy mounds. These had once supported great porticoes and buildings. The talus which was left from the destruction created great obstacles for the troops, for behind any one of these larger pieces of stone, or the taller mounds, anything could be hiding. Silence was the only thing they encountered until turning into a great area which once would have been a main promenade, where kings and queens, and great armies would have once trod.

Aiya could imagine the large, busy market places and the teeming crowds, which must have once been here. Yes, she thought to herself. It is sad.

Eldacar suddenly held his hand up to stop them. “Hold. I think the Dike is around this next bend. Be on your guard,” he warned everyone.

Slowly they rounded the bend, and there was what was called Deadmen’s Dike. On top of one of the largest and tallest stood three of their group waving frantically. They had seen their separated comrades and were hailing them. One ran down the hilly dike and disappeared, it was assumed to inform the others that they were now a whole troop once more.

Eldacar and Celdirion, along with Torondor, gave a short run-down on what had been happening on their journey and what information they had picked up along the way, while introducing Darhil of Anfalas and Calaval of the Forever Knights. Aiya was welcomed back with much joy. They had missed their healer along their way.

Quickly they got down to business. Eldacar was shown the emplacements, the area in which the troops gathered, a makeshift armory, and other areas which had been developed into battle ready positions. Besides Celdirion, he quickly made both Darhil and Calaval honorary Captains for the time being, realizing that they could contribute their long-standing abilities as warriors to this battle.

The three Captains immediately began making plans to positions the men in strategic positions. This would make it easier to form battle lines, if needed. But the first line of defense would be surprise.

Studying the small hand-drawn map, which had been drawn by Cirdan, of the area in which they were located and the surroundings they cemented their plans into place.

“WeÂ’ll put the pikemen and spearmen in front for the first thrust if they come at us full force. They usually try to engulf their enemy with sheer numbers,” commented Celdirion.

“Yes, and next I would place some of the archers here,” indicated Darhil, pointing to a section of the map. “We have quite a force now with the villagers allied with us. Most are hunters, so very good with a bow. They, along with our men, could be a formidable force.”

While these discussions were taking place Aiya was seated under a ruined, stone archway not very far away. She was thinking about the crystal and wondering just how much power it actually had. Did it just glow? Or, was there something else to it? Her mother had never had the chance to tell her. She had died when Aiya was quite young and the crystal had passed to her as the eldest, and only daughter. Mulling this over in her mind she decided that if need be she would certainly try to use it. If the crystal worked it might be of use in battling this force.

As she was deciding on this plan another rider galloped up to the camp. It was the scout sent out when they were still at the caverns to gather intelligence on the enemy whereabouts. He swung off his mount, threw the reigns to a soldier standing in front of the makeshift headquarters, and hurried toward the commanderÂ’s direction.

“Eldacar, I have discovered that the enemy has chosen to camp in an area just northwest of here. It is hidden in a small vale, but I managed to get a glimpse of them. There are many, both Orcs and Haradrim, and I think I saw a few Easterlings among them, too. In fact, it seems from what I saw that an Easterling named Ulfang is leading them. I fear we are outnumbered by quite a bit!”

“I thank you for your hard work,” said his commander as he slapped him on the shoulder. “We ran into a bit of luck coming towards Fornost and were joined by several bands of armed freemen, plus two who have asked to join us in this battle. I have made them Captains for the time being, as they are leaders and battle hardened. Darhil of Anthalas has informed me about Ulfang and his sons. This information you have brought just confirms it. The enemy force has allied with each other and now seems bent on attempting to take over parts of the area north west of the Anduin. This will never do.”

He turned on his heel, walked to his captains and informed them of this latest piece of information, adding, “We must stop these Men of Darkness here, or we will not live to see a free Middle Earth, I fear.”

All nodded in agreement with grim faces apparent. Aiya had walked to their group when she spotted the messenger ride up. She had listened to all that was said, and now she stepped to Eldacar and the captains, her mind made up.

“I will find the highest place out of the way when this battle occurs and try to use this crystal to aid you.”

“What is she talking of?” asked Darhil. “What crystal is this? Do we have another palantir that hasnÂ’t yet been accounted for?”

“I donÂ’t think itÂ’s a palantir, Darhil,” answered Aiya. “It was given to me by my mother before she passed into the west. It has been in my family for generations, I was told. But she had no chance to tell me anything about its properties. It helped us while in the caverns by lighting the way. I have no other knowledge of what it can accomplish.”

At this, Darhil looked even more confused. He had not yet heard the entire story of the adventures of the cavern. Aiya then told him a short version, but didnÂ’t leave out the most important facts. At the end of her tale Darhil just shook his head. These Endor Patriots he had encountered were just as brave and loyal as his Gondorian soldiers.

Calaval had also been listening intently to the story being told. This group of men and the animated, but dignified woman Seer impressed him greatly.

With everything assembled, and every plan that could be seen in place, the camp rested. Some slept, others sat gazing at their small campfires, perhaps thinking of their loved ones at home or wherever they were. Above all they were ready as they could possibly be. It was known that Orcs liked the night, but men preferred the daylight, and dawn was in the near offing.

Gradually the black paled to gray in the east. Men woke, grabbed a bite to eat if they could, and gathered in their appointed areas. An attack was expected at any time. Scouts had been sent out to give them early warning.

Aiya and Darhil had talked until the dawn was breaking. He was intently interested in her family history, as well as the lore she had learned in Rivendell about Middle Earth history, and neither one felt like sleeping.

Aiya stretched, yawned and began to make her way to the headquarters to see what news, if any, there was. At that moment countless horns began to blow and blare. A raucous, noisy din set upon the area mingled with screeches, screams, and loud trumpet-like sounds.

“To arms, men,” yelled Eldacar, as he swung himself on his mount, and began to gather the men around him that were on horseback, with the herald unfurling the war banner in the middle.

His captains quickly formed their ranks of pikemen, spearmen, and bowmen. They all knew what they were expected to do.

A black wave seemed to engulf the area. It was seething with the dark bodies of Orcs, as well as the men of Harad and the Easterlings.

The first line of free men slashed, jabbed and sliced with both spear and pike, then knelt while the archers aimed volleys of arrows into the enemy lines. Both spear and pike were busy while kneeling, aiming at the soft bellies of Orcs as well as the legs of the Men of Darkness.

Following the Banner of Freedom, the mounted swordsmen slashed their way through the dark hordes laying waste to these evil attackers. Their horses were trained in battle, also. They would weave back and forth following the directions that their riders gave them through pressure with their knees, or rear up and strike an attacker with their front hooves. If attacked from the rear, they would leap into the air slashing with their front hooves and kicking with their rear legs. This aided their riders, making it easier for the warrior to use his sword and hold his shield.

Aiya stood on a prominent rock watching as the battle took place. Out of her bag she had grabbed the crystal, opened its wrapping, and now held it high in the air much like she had in the cavern. Expecting only light to appear, she was shocked and confused when it began to throb in her hand. What was it going to do now? She didnÂ’t notice a small group of black Orcs creeping up to her rock. She was completely absorbed in the actions of the crystal.

Suddenly she was swept up from her perch by strong arms and unceremoniously plopped on a horseÂ’s back in front of a rider! Frantically she tried to turn to discover who her rescuer was, while still clutching the throbbing crystal.

“What is happening? Let me go!” she screamed. “I have a job to do, too! I am trying to help!”

“Yes, I can see that, my Lady,” was the calm reply in her ear. It was Calaval who had saved her from the Orc tide creeping up behind her. He now protected her from the swirling, frantic battle going on around them, while he guided his horse through a pathway into a quieter area. There, on a high rampart that was the remnant of some ancient building he deposited her. He had urged his horse up an embankment that ran into the huge piece of stone. “There. I think you will be safer up here. It is away from the main force of the enemy. I would suggest that you watch for stray arrows though.” He grinned, and carefully worked his way back down, then galloped back into the fray, taking not a few enemy by surprise.

The tide was turning. The outnumbered free men were beginning to gain the field of battle. The enemy was systematically being destroyed or driven east into deserted areas.

The throbbing orb in AiyaÂ’s hand rung out with a splitting sound like thunder. In a second a light flashed up into the sky in a column of intense, bright light. Yet it did not injure her hand as she held it. A misty semi-darkness came over the battlefield and bolts of light spit into the ground around the Men of Darkness and their allies. The terrified enemy began to flee the field as fast as their legs could carry them, dropping their weapons as they fled. The Healer and Seer of the Patriots of Endor could not contain herself. She shouted for joy and jumped up and down in a dance of victory as she began to climb down from her high place of safety.

Men of both the troop and the volunteers began to gather. Not one had been hurt, or even touched by the powerful light, which had emanated from the orb, but there were many injured from the battle and a number who would never again join in battle, or celebrate the victory.

Aiya was busy for several hours with the injured, cleansing and binding wounds, giving solace when necessary, and mixing more herbs as they were needed.

A voice finally stopped her from her duties. “My Lady, it is time for you to rest, I think.”

She turned around to see her rescuer of earlier that day, Calaval sitting astride his mount surveying the area where she had been working. “I still have much to do, Sir.”

“Let the local healers take over for a while. I know there were some who came with the villagers. You do need to rest, and you cousin has asked for you,” he informed her, gently.

A cold chill passed through her. “Is he hurt? Was he wounded?” she blurted out as she jumped up from a patientÂ’s side, and would have started to run to the headquarters area.

“No, no, everything is fine. He wasnÂ’t harmed in any way. He and the others just want to thank you for what you did today, thatÂ’s all.”

She smiled then and walked to the area in which her cousin and the others were gathered. Someone had brought a barrel of red wine and it had been breached. Cups appeared as if by magic and all that were able drank a toast to this day. As tired and worn as they were, it was a blow for freedom and they werenÂ’t going to let it go without a celebration!