Aglahad and the Dead City (In Tharbad: Volume Three)

7

It was long after nightfall when we reached the Tower Hills. The Gulf Road was well maintained and we had made good headway during the two-day ride. The Erebor Ponies were surprisingly swift and hardy and had no difficulty in keeping up with the horses.

The stars seemed brighter than previous nights and the Far Downs glowed dimly as we sped towards the junction with the East Road. As the road curved round to the west, the white beacon of the first tower peeked over the horizon. I suggested that we make camp after such a long day in the saddle.

"There is a small wood I know in the valley up ahead," Finduilas shouted.

"We should have lodged in Greenholm as I proposed," Aglahad complained.

We had argued that it would be better to cover as much distance as we could so that we would reach Mithlond early in the day. I was about to remind him of the discussion when an arrow whooshed across our path between the Dwarves.

"We're being shot at!" cried Lóni and we all veered off the road towards the hills.

I caught Aglahad's eye. "Weave!" I shouted as we sped through the valley. "Stay low in your saddle." Arrows were zipping past us like angry hornets. "How many?" I shouted to Finduilas.

"Five. Six. Warg-riders."

"Warg-riders?" Aglahad cried.

"Make for that track," the Ranger said. "Single file."

I took up the rear and hoped my pack would take any true shot. The track rose around the shoulder of a hill and soon we were on the open moorland of Emyn Beraid. The lights of the three towers welcomed and assured me. I was coming home.

"Make for the tower!" I shouted.

The track ran straight for a while then dipped, curving to the right. Above us the tower shone with pale starlight. Behind us, the firing had ceased.

"They've given up the chase!" Finduilas announced, but we kept our speed up nonetheless and climbed towards the tower. At the top of the slope, I looked back across the valley while the others rode around the tower. No orcs were visible. I went to join the others and soon I was at the wide stairs that tapered up to the tower doors.

"Come," I said after I'd dismounted. "All is clear."

We tethered our mounts to the steel hoops set into the masonry on either side of the stairs.

"What is this place?" Aglahad said, looking up at the tower.

"Looks like so many Elven follies to me," Lofar mumbled.

"This is Minas Belthil," I said. "These are the watchtowers built by Gil-galad as a gift to Elendil. We are safe here."

"Watchtowers?" Lóni scoffed. "They look more like lighthouses."

Aglahad patted Lofar's shoulder with the back of his hand. "Whoever heard of a lighthouse twenty leagues from the sea?" He gestured towards the east. "Who were they?"

"Orcs," Finduilas said.

"Orcs? On Lindon's doorstep?"

"They still have strongholds in Angmar. From time to time they stray onto the wastes north of Evendim."

"What brings them this far south?" Lóni wondered.

Finduilas looked down the valley along the track. She didn't seem to trust that they had turned back. It seemed for a moment as though she would speak but she had no answer.

"Well," Lofar growled, inspecting the fresh tear across the shoulder of his jerkin. "I thank Mahal they are not here now. That was a close call."

"Can we go inside?" Aglahad said hopefully.