Isildur

'But if we should fail; if he were to take the Three?'

'Then all would be lost and the West would be helpless against him.'

'Exactly. Can any reward be worth such a risk?'

'We have long debated just this question, Lady. Our thought was that if he knew the Three were near, he would be drawn out of his fortress and we could at last test our strength against his. We are sick and weary of this waiting. It has been too long, especially for our allies the Men.'

'You would risk all for this one confrontation?'

'We cannot hope to defeat him by waiting here. He is in no hurry. He can wait until we are so weakened and dispirited that our alliance founders. We must draw him out now. It is that or withdraw.'

'But would not one of the Three be sufficient? I will bring Nenya and we shall fight together, shoulder-to- shoulder as we did against Morgoth. But let Vilya and Narya remain here in case we fall.'

Gil-galad shook his head. 'We considered that path as well. We fear that any single ring might prove insufficient against the One. And perhaps be insufficient bait, as well.'

'But to reveal the Three! This is a desperate chance.'

'It is indeed. A desperate chance for desperate times.'

Galadriel bowed her head. 'We have great reservations about this course you have chosen, Gil-galad. But we will do as you bid.'

'Thank you, Lady. And thank you, Lord Celeborn. I well know what you are risking by bringing your rings here.'

Celeborn bowed his head grimly. 'Yes. All the good that we have done in Middle-earth could be undone in a moment. Lothlorien would cease to exist. But we defer to your judgement, O king.'

'Elrond, a word,' said Gil-galad.

'Sire?' answered Elrond, stepping forward.

'I would have you bring Vilya to me here. But I caution you against its use except in the most critical need. It is the mightiest of all the Three, and I fear lest any wear it save myself.'

'It shall be done as you say, Sire,' replied Elrond.

Trumpets sounded from without. 'Barathor is preparing to depart,' said Isildur. 'We must go.'

'Yes,' said Gil-galad. 'And you must come to us here as quickly as you can. Orodruin's rumblings increase with each passing day. We suspect Sauron is preparing to attack. May Eru be with you.'

'And with you, Lords. Goodbye.'

The stone grew cloudy again and the light faded. Isildur covered it again, his face grave.

'It is as I thought,' he said to Elrond. 'My duty must be here in Osgiliath. Yet if I were free I would fly to Pelargir as fast as Fleetfoot could run.'

They returned to the Dome of Stars and thence to the portico that fronted the Great Hall. The dark clouds they had seen at sunrise were now covering the sky, though here and there light slanted down, highlighting a gilded dome here, a white tower there. Just as they emerged, Barathor rode into the square with Arador and some others of the captains of Pelargir. They rode to the foot of the steps.

'We are ready to ride, Sire,' called Barathor from his saddle. 'Will you not come with us? We need your strength.'

Isildur looked sadly at the Lord of Pelargir. 'My friend, I fear your choice is ill. The attack on Pelargir may well prove to be but the first stroke of Sauron's attack on Gondor. If so, it will not be long before the plains yonder will be black with orcs. Then will Osgiliath in turn need your strength. I would have you here when that attack comes. But I cannot stay you against your will. In your place I would no doubt do the same.

'I love you as a brother, Barathor son of Boromir, but I cannot ride with you. My place is here. If you must go, I beg you to part as friends and allies still. And when your task in Pelargir be finished, whether relief or revenge, I ask you to return to us. For the mind that directed the attack on Pelargir is not in that city, but there before us, in the east.'

'I understand, Sire,' said Barathor. 'And I shall return when I can. Farewell, Isildur Elendilson.'

'Farewell, Barathor. Ride faster than the wind, and may you find the sea-blue pennant still fluttering from the walls of Pelargir.'

Then raising his sword, Barathor called, 'Ride, Men of Pelargir. Ride as you have never ridden before.' His horse reared and gave a great cry like a call to war, then wheeled and plunged down the road to the south gate. His officers followed in a cloud of dust and a thunder of hooves.

Isildur stood and watched them go, then he and his party returned to the hall and ascended again the great tower. They stood looking out over the city. Isildur was deep in thought, his face as grave as it had ever been.

'My mind is much troubled,' he said to no one in particular. 'Did I well or ill this day? I stayed here, dooming Pelargir to fire and pillage, so that Osgiliath might be protected. But now Barathor takes the greater part of my forces. It may be that his force is now too weak to save Pelargir and mine too weak to protect Osgiliath. Should I have tried to stop him? Might it not have been better to remain united and pursue one course or the other with our full strength?'

'Nay,' said Galadriel. 'Fault not yourself in this. You could not in faith leave Osgiliath — you saw that well enough. And yet you could not stay Barathor. He would not have been swayed by any words of yours or ours, and you cannot bind an ally to you against his will. You have done well at least to preserve the alliance. Perhaps he will yet return in time.'

Isildur glanced at the Lady sadly. 'Your words reassure me, Lady, but still am I uneasy in my heart. He will return quickly only if Pelargir and all her people are utterly destroyed. Even then, he will be gone at least five days, too late to help us. And I fear greatly for Cirdan. In our concern for Pelargir we have given but little thought to why he should be delayed. If he was in the Bay of Belfalas when the Black Fleet arrived at Anduin, they could have had an evil time of it. The Elves of Lindon are mighty mariners, unequaled in seamanship, but they are unused to the ways of war at sea. And the Corsairs have been masters of that art for a thousand years. Their ships are driven by many slaves, and they carry catapults that throw skins of flaming oil.

'The White Fleet is strong, but if they met this mighty assault fleet in the open sea, especially if the wind were light or fickle, I fear greatly for the outcome. We know both fleets must have been in the bay at the same time, and but one has emerged. I like it not.'

'I have had these same thoughts,' said Celeborn, 'and yet one more: if Cirdan has indeed fallen to the Corsairs, might not that which he bore be even now on its way to Sauron?'

'Aye,' said Isildur, his face growing even darker. 'If that were so, all our plans would be thwarted before they were begun. Already the tide seems to flow against us. We sought throughout the west for aid, but the Eredrim and the Dwarves refuse us and the men of Minhiriath and Anfalas cannot come, and now even the brave legions of Pelargir are denied us on the very eve of battle. If Cirdan too is lost, we lack even the strength to strike and can only helplessly await the end. Woe to us, and alas to all we love and seek to preserve!' And his grief was writ plain upon his face.

'And yet we must not despair,' said Galadriel. 'The Host of the Alliance is mighty yet and guards the enemy within his last refuge. The armies of Gondor and Lothlorien are strong and eager. We are alive, our powers are at the full. There is hope yet. While the sun yet shines, there is hope.'

At that moment there came another blare of trumpets and shouting from the walls of the city. On the fields of the Westbank, the men of Pelargir were forming a long column. Barathor and his cavalry could be seen riding to its head. The great doors of the gate swung open, and Barathor led his army out of the city.

For an instant the sun gleamed on sprearpoint and helm and Barathor's banner rippled beneath the arch. Then a cloud passed over the sun and a breeze sprang up from the east. Barathor's esquire sounded his horn, but the call seemed already faint with distance. Then a sudden cold rain pelted down and the riders were lost to the sight of those watching from the tower. And Isildur gazed up at the lowering clouds and repeated Galadriel's last words.

'While the sun yet shines,' he murmured.

Chapter Seven