Isildur

flames as the glowing cinders continued to pour from the sky. Huge cracks had opened up where before was solid land, swallowing up whole sections of the camp. Groups of warriors either milled about aimlessly or dashed headlong through the press, on what errands he could not guess, for no orders could be heard in that noise. Then came an even greater tumult from the north, near the Road. A confused rabble was stumbling back south into the camp, throwing into disarray the few companies still under command.

Elendil swung his horse to the right, picking through to the first barricade, now tumbled into heaps. There the throng was less and he was able to make his way at better speed. Finally he reached the Road and his worst fears were realized. The siege had been broken. Sauron was gone.

The barricades were all scattered and thrown aside like a child's blocks amidst the sprawled and burned bodies of the fallen. Here and there a few crawled or moved weakly, but their eyes were blank and staring, their minds blasted by what they had seen. Some gibbered or howled, others shouted meaningless orders.

Elendil moved among them, scanning each face, each banner trampled and forgotten in the dust, seeking always the standard of Gil-galad, but in vain. He rode to the mess tent where he had left the others and found it thrown down and charred, as if blasted by a scorching wind. A group of figures were creeping from the wreckage, then turning to help others. Elendil dismounted and went to help.

'Gil-galad!' he called to them. 'Have you seen Gil-galad?'

'He was up there on the hill,' said an Elf.

Elendil picked his way among smoking wreckage to the top of a small hill where a dozen Elves stood laboring, pulling others from a collapsed tent. Already a row of bodies lay there. A few were struggling to rise, more only groaned feebly or writhed in pain, but most lay still. When Elendil reached them he saw to his relief that Gil-galad was among them, though his robes were torn and his face blackened and streaked.

'Sire,' he cried, 'are you hurt?'

Gil-galad turned and saw Elendil coming toward him.

'So you have survived as well. That is the only good news we have had. Did you see him?'

'Nay, Sire, I saw only the Flame of Udun. I was well down on the southern perimeter. Would I had been here at your side!'

'It would have made no difference,' answered Gil-galad with weariness and despair lining his face. 'He was too great for us, too great by far. We had no idea how powerful he really was.'

'Did you see him?'

'Not his form, but only a great darkness, and we felt the fear that goes before him.'

'How did he come upon you?'

'The Mountain burst asunder and all turned and looked to the west. Then came the sound of thousands of trumpets and we turned, and lo, the Doors stood open. Then a great host poured forth onto the bridge, orcs and trolls and goblins and other creatures I have no name for. Just as they reached the land, the barricades suddenly burst asunder with a terrible roar. How he did it I do not know, but in a moment the barricades and the men on them were flying through the air. Nearly four hundred warriors, Man and Elf, destroyed at one blow, swept aside as you might sweep a table clear.

'Then their van was upon us, and with them came a great fear. All light and hope seemed to vanish from the world, and many quailed before the onslaught. It must have been some weapon of Sauron's, for in truth I believe their numbers were less than ours. But they did not stop to fight. They thundered past the shattered barricades, right through our camp, and on down the west road, not even pausing to slay our warriors, some of them just standing by the side of the road staring. I felt him coming nearer — how I cannot say, but the center of the evil approached. I advanced with Aeglos before me, thinking to make a stand, but then came a blast of terrible heat and all faded from me. I came to myself but a moment ago.'

'We found the king under this tent,' said one of the Elves, looking up from his work. 'He moved not at first and we feared for him. But he roused at last. It is more than can be said for many here.'

'But there was no real battle,' continued Gil-galad. 'Only that strange blast, then they were past and away. Where has he gone? Did you see?'

'I know not, Sire,' replied Elendil. 'I have seen only our own people, and many of them are dead or mad. Of Sauron and his creatures there is no sign. They can only have gone west.'

'Aye. And he can be bent on only one errand. He seeks the Three.'

'Curse him!' cried Elendil. 'He rides against Isildur and the others, and we were charged to contain him here. They will be crushed between Sauron and his Ulairi. Oh, alas, alas. We have failed.'

Then one of the Elves came up to Gil-galad and handed him the long spear Aeglos. 'This at least is unbroken, Sire,' he said. Gil-galad took the spear and stood leaning upon it, gazing about at the ruin as far as he could see. But then he seemed to draw strength from the familiar feel of the great spear. He drew himself upright.

'Aye,' he said. 'My Aeglos is yet whole, and still capable of piercing Sauron's body. It is still capable of fighting.' He touched the sword at Elendil's side. 'And so is Narsil, and so indeed are we, my friend.'

'Aye,' said some of those standing nearby, slowly regaining their wits and their courage after the numbing blast. 'Many have died, but most yet live. Away from the road, our host is untouched.'

'But stay,' said an Elf, holding one shattered arm against his side, 'how can we hope to prevail against such a foe? Now we have seen his hideous might, would it not be vain and foolish to attempt to assail him again?'

Then Elendil cried out in a loud voice. 'We must! While yet we have life and strength to fight, we must! For Sauron is once more loose upon the world. He flies west to Minas Ithil, where our colleagues strive against his minions, unaware of the doom approaching from the plains. They were the bait in this trap, and Sauron has taken it. Our task was to destroy him as he came forth. In that we have failed, and now he races to swallow the lure. If we falter now, our friends will be destroyed and Sauron will rule the world. We must ride, ride like the wind!'

'Yes!' shouted some. 'That's right! He's right!' said others. 'To the west!'

The kings called messengers to them and sent them riding along the perimeter. There was no longer any point in maintaining the siege. Every warrior capable of riding was to join them at the Road.

In less than an hour the riders were assembling. Over a thousand had died or were still missing, and nearly as many were to remain to care for the wounded and bury the dead. But all others, still over eighty thousand strong, were ready. The columns of horsemen dwindled into the distance on either hand.

Gil-galad signalled for quiet, then rose in his stirrups. 'You have seen the strength of the enemy,' he roared. 'But all his will now is bent on reaching Minas Ithil, and the rear of his host may be unprotected. At the least they shall not surprise us again. Most of his host is on foot. If we ride hard, we should overtake them near Orodruin.

'All these years we have waited for Sauron to come out so we can fight him in the open, without the chasm and walls of Barad-dur to protect him. At last we have that chance. The waiting is at an end. Now we have only one task. We must pursue Sauron and catch him and bring him to bay. Then everything depends on one final battle. Ride with me now down Sauron's Road, and know that death lies at the end of it, either ours, or Sauron's!'

'To death!' shouted thousands of voices. 'Ride to death!' Then the kings wheeled their horses and plunged down the road, followed by their surviving knights and housecarls. Slowly at first, then with ever increasing speed, the Army of the Alliance swept out onto the road and followed their lords.

Those remaining in the ruined camp watched company after company thunder away to the west, banners flying bravely through the smoke and dust. For an hour and more they flowed by, until at last the final company of Men from the upper vales of Anduin pounded into the cloud of dust and were lost to sight.

'To death!' came the last cries, already muffled by the distance. Then there was only the sound of the wind. For the first time in many years, the plain of Gorgoroth was silent.

Chapter Eleven The Ride to Doom

Throughout Minas Ithil, the roar of battle gradually subsided. Here and there knots of combat continued to rage furiously: small bands of orcs fighting desperately against now overwhelming odds but with no thought of