Unexpectedly turned into a cat, Kat falls into Middle-earth with the mission to prevent a death. In a feline form she can only communicate with the elf Legolas - and that he is such an attractive specimen is certainly not helpful...
A humorous (but...
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"The duke had a mind that ticked like a clock and, like a clock, it regularly went cuckoo."
― Terry Pratchett, Wyrd Sisters
43. City Under Siege
Nellas swiftly ascended the Rammas wall; with its rough surface it was no more difficult than climbing a tree. Boromir had said it was not built to stop the enemy, only to make it harder for wagons and horses to pass.
The view from the wall was both beautiful and horrible. Here near the mountains the wall was still intact, but further east there was a wide breach where the attackers had tore it down entirely and cleared away the rubble to open a passage. There were still more troops arriving through it – row upon row of orcs, humans, and some big, grey animals she didn't recognize.
When Boromir joined her at last (him being not much of a climber), he paused momentarily to look at the burning city again, clenching his fists at seeing his home in flames. "It is probably worse than it looks," he whispered, sounding like he tried hard to believe that himself. "As far as I can make out, only the first circle is under attack, and the gate must be intact or the enemy wouldn't linger outside. Inside there is likely a huge army waiting – my brother and his rangers will be there, of course, and my uncle Imrahil and his valiant knights. Add to that several thousands of footmen and riders from the southern fiefs, who would never abandon Minas Tirith in need. It is a lot I have to work with there. My father is a brilliant commander and strategist in his own right, but I think he will be glad for my aid and counsel. Thankfully we only need to hold our own until Rohan arrives – which should be soon – for then the enemy will be caught between two fronts, and what remains of the Rammas Echor will cage them in like sheep in a pen. We can do this!"
Nellas took his hand. "I don't like cities, but if this one is important to you, I shall help you save it," she promised.
Boromir gave her a surprised look, and seemed on the verge of saying something, but then he shut his mouth. "Come. We must hurry."
Down the other side they continued east along the wall, keeping in its shadow to avoid exposure from enemy scouts, until they were directly under the sheer precipice of Mount Mindolluin. Boromir stopped at a part of the cliffside which to Nellas looked exactly like the rest, and cleared away some lichen until the contours of a door became visible.
"This is a very old escape route that my grandfather Ecthelion built. The door is wooden, but painted to look like rock." He fished out a small key from a pouch in his belt and put it into a tiny slit in the door. There was a click, and it swung open with a squeak, exposing a dark passage leading into the mountain. The air was stale and smelled of mildew.
Boromir winced at the creaking door. "I hope nobody heard that." He took a rusty lantern from an equally rusty hook inside, and lit it with a flint and steel from his pouch. Then he pulled the door shut behind them and locked. "If all goes well, this tunnel will take us straight into the first circle of the city, but it has not been used for a very long time." His voice sounded strangely hushed and eerie, and echoed between the naked walls. "When I explored it with my friends as a boy it was still accessible; let us hope there was no rockfall since then, and that the other exit is not blocked."
