welcomed their return, thankful for the peace and unity the Dunedain had brought to the war-torn land. But not all Uialedain lords were pleased to bow to the Men of the West.

Romach showed the king into his hall. Isildur stooped under the door, for he was nearly a head taller than Romach. He looked around as his eyes grew accustomed to the dark interior of the hall. A large fire smoldered in a pit in the center, the smoke rising among blackened beams to escape from a hole in the center of the roof. Along either side, behind rows of carved and painted wooden columns, were raised bed platforms, heaped with skins and woolen blankets in disarray from the morning's hurried departure.

Romach led Isildur to the platform at the head of the hall, where stood a high-backed wooden throne behind a massive oaken table. He pulled two stools from under the table and he and Isildur sat.

'I am sorry, Sire, that there are none to wait on you. We sent the servants with the women and children to take refuge when we spied your approach.'

'It matters not,' said Isildur, stretching out his legs and sighing. 'We do not seek your hospitality, Romach. Sending your people to safety is a wise precaution in these troubled times. I remember there are extensive caverns at the head of this valley. Is that where they are?'

Romach seemed surprised that the king was aware of the caves. 'Aye,' he said. 'Were we to fall here, it would take a mighty army to roust them out of those dark ways. Only we Eredrim know the hundreds of twisting tunnels under the Ered Nimrais. Why, some of the ways pierce the very mountain's heart, so that a bold and resolute man may enter at Erech and emerge in Dunharrow on the borders of Calenardhon, a dozen miles away. Our people are safe indeed in the caverns of Erech.'

Isildur nodded his approval. 'You were very quick to take action when you saw us. Have you then seen enemies in your land before?'

Romach shrugged. 'Bands of brigands occasionally appear and cause some trouble in the higher valleys, especially in summer when many of the men are up in the high pastures with the herds. They're outlanders, wandered up from strange lands in the south, 'tis said. And occasionally, I'm sorry to say, they're joined by some of the local lads, the wild ones, after the excitement, or the plunder. We are ever watchful. But we did not expect the King of Gondor, especially coming from the west.'

'I daresay you did not expect me on any road.'

'True enough, Sire. It has been long since so much as a merchant has been to see us from Gondor. We could well do with the trade.'

'Things are going ill in Gondor,' Isildur admitted grimly. 'Most of the men have been long away, fighting in Gorgoroth, and we have little time for governance or commerce. I am afraid all the provinces are forced onto their own resources. We can send you neither aid nor supplies, nor can the wealthier citizens of Osgiliath escape the summer heat by visiting your fair valleys, as they once were wont.'

'Do any still dwell in Osgiliath? We had heard that city was destroyed.'

'Then you have heard more than the truth. It is true that in the first onslaught the enemy captured and defiled the eastern districts of the city, beyond the Anduin. The people have fled to the west shore. But the Great Bridge still stands, and a strong garrison guards it. The river is now the frontier.'

'Ithilien then remains in enemy hands?'

'The province is held by neither side and is a land of great danger for all, be they Elf, Man, or orc. We occasionally sortie into East Osgiliath or into the countryside beyond and there have been many skirmishes, but nothing decisive as yet. My own capital of Minas Ithil is yet held by the Ulairi, the most fell of Sauron's servants.'

'You cannot retake your capital?' asked Romach in surprise. 'Is the mighty army of Gondor not strong enough to take one city?

Isildur's jaw tightened, but his voice was still even. 'We dare not even attempt it. Our forces encircle Sauron in the Dark Tower, but he is yet mighty. He is besieged, but we are no less trapped than he. We dare not break our siege to assail Minas Ithil. And so my beautiful city remains in the hands of the enemy, while we are helpless to free it.'

'But we rejoiced when we heard that the men of Gondor had broken the Black Gate and entered Mordor itself. We thought to hear soon that you had taken the Black Tower. But years have passed, and yet you say the Barad-dur still stands?'

Isildur was becoming irritated by Romach's questions. Surely such news of the war had long since reached even these remote valleys. Romach seemed to be emphasizing the Alliance's ineffectiveness so far against Sauron. But why?

'The Barad-dur is mighty beyond belief,' Isildur replied. 'You should see it, Romach. All who approach it are filled with dread and black despair. I have seen brave men quail at the sight. It is built of black adamant so hewn and joined that it is as smooth as glass for hundreds of feet up to the first parapet. It stands close-ringed by a chasm so deep we have never been able to sound it, preventing us from close approach to the walls. The only entrance is by an immense bridge of black iron, and that leads to a massive steel gate that has long been shut.

'Smokes and reeks constantly obscure the plain, so that only the upper towers of the Barad-dur can be seen standing above the murk. Poisonous fumes boil out of the abyss, but we know not whether from the design of the Enemy, or from some effect of Mount Orodruin, the fire mountain which stands but a few leagues away and is ever active. We can bring no siege engines to bear against the walls or gate. No catapult can overtop the walls, but Sauron assails us at will with arrows and darts, and burning missles. Many a brave Man or Elf has died in the siege. My own younger brother Anarion was slain last year by a great stone cast from the Tower. It is maddening. Seven years now have the combined armies of Gondor and of Lindon besieged it, but still Sauron mocks us from within.'

'He must be mighty indeed,' said Romach with wonder in his voice.

'He wields great powers,' acknowledged Isildur, 'But we are not without powers of our own. The Army of the Alliance is the most powerful force ever assembled since the Great Armament of Ar-Pharazon. It is led by the greatest kings and heros of Elves and Men. And we have the famous weapons: Gil-galad's spear Aeglos the Snowpoint, that none may withstand; and Elendil's blade Narsil, MoonFire. Both these weapons were doomed at their making to be the Bane of Sauron. When we assailed Mordor, Sauron himself quaked in fear.

'Though the Black Gate of Mordor was guarded by Sauron's most trusted and loyal troops, the Morannon was thrown down and the defenders ran shrieking across the vale of Udun. We took Udun and swept over the Plains of Gorgoroth, and we have kept him bottled up within the Tower for seven years now. But Sauron is mighty and canny and learned in the ancient lore.'

'He is said to be ages old,' said Romach. 'Perhaps he cannot be slain. How then can you hope to defeat him?'

Isildur's irritation flared suddenly into anger. 'We hope because there is no alternative,' he snapped. 'I assure you, Romach, the Barad-dur will yet fall. I have sworn it beside my brother's pyre. I will throw down the Black Tower and fling it stone by stone into the chasm. I have foretold its doom, and so it shall be.'

Romach flinched back at the sudden glint of fire in Isildur's eye, the tightness of his voice. He was reminded that Isildur came long ago from fabled Numenor, where deeds of trained will and Elvish arts were practiced. Romach did not know what powers Isildur might wield, but he was rumored to be able to augur the future and to cast spells of power. He looked on Isildur in new wonder, and trembled. Never had he met a man more resolute, more determined to exact revenge.

And Isildur was but one of the lesser lords at the head of that army in Gorgoroth. The immortal Elves were led by Gil-galad, King of Lindon, the greatest living warrior of any race. With him were many noble Elf-lords, veterans of the wars against Sauron's former master Morgoth the Enemy, thousands of years ago. The men of Gondor and Arnor were commanded by Isildur's father Elendil, high king of the Dunedain, founder of the Realms in Exile.

'I am sure you are right, Isildur,' he said placatingly. 'The Tower must fall. And as you say, Sauron is trapped within. What can he hope to accomplish?'

'Do not think he is helpless in his captivity. He has powerful allies yet. His minions continue his depredations throughout the land. Orcs infest the Misty Mountains, wild Easterlings fall on our outposts in Harondor and the Nindalf, Corsairs raid the coasts. Even here in Lamedon, far from the Mountains of Shadow, brigands roam and plunder. These are not independent incidents — they are the plan and the will of Sauron.'

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