The Black Knight

Chapter 25:

Dawn stains the sky orange and red as the camp stirs and the Rohirrim horn is blown; it's time for war. I fasten Lightsbane to my belt and with one final deep breath, leave my tent. The men hasten faster with each blow of the horn. Ashkin is waiting outside my tent when I reach him and mount.

"Are you ready for this?" I whisper in his ear while stroking his neck. "Be safe today."

Théoden exits his tent with Éomer at his side, Éomer mounting Firefoot while another man brings forth the king's horse.

"We must ride light and swift. It is a long road ahead. And man and beast must reach the end with the strength to fight," Théoden says before moving his horse into a trot.

Éomer gives me one nod before we move forward side by side and follow the king, now moving at a gallop. Men quickly mount up, throw water onto fires, and rush to catch up with the head of the column. I've never had so many horses surround me as in this moment, all six-thousand of us heading to what we hope is the last battle of this war. It doesn't feel right though without Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli at my side. I send a silent prayer their way and ask the Valar to give me some kind of sign, a message as to what exactly I am supposed to do.

"Ride! Ride now to Gondor!" Théoden shouts.

I grip Ashkin's reigns harder as I leave Dunharrow behind.

* * * *

Faylen's necklace is warm around my neck, the only place I knew it would stay safe. Despite where I am going and the uncertainty of it, I can't stop smiling. Never did I think this was possible, for Faylen and I to truly have a happily ever after like this. Determination stirs inside me to see her again. I would fight even death to get back to her. I meant every word I said at Dunharrow and the promise to have her as my bride, never believing that I would ever meet someone to be my wife. I keep my bow loaded and force myself to focus as we walk through the mountain, Aragorn's torch the only light.

"What is it? What do you see?" Gimli asks me as he grips his axe.

Around me I can feel a force stirring and see phantoms of what once was.

"I see shapes of men. And of horses," I whisper.

"Where?"

I ignore my mellon as more comes to me, grief along with it.

"Pale banners like shreds of clouds. Spears rise like winter-thickets through a shroud of mist. The Dead are following. They have been summoned."

"The Dead? Summoned?" Gimli asks, hearing the fear in his voice he is trying to hide. "I knew that. Very good. Very good Legolas!"

I continue following Aragorn as a fog forms under our feet and menacing whips of smoke and mist begin to surround us. Then I feel what is beneath my feet. My light steps won't bother what's below but Gimli's might. I can see Aragorn realizes this when I do.

"Do not look down," he says.

Cracks reach my ears and pierce the silence as Gimli steps onto the skulls belonging to the Dead. He slowly tries to make his footsteps lighter but the skulls continue to break underneath him. We are no longer in a tunnel but a great hall with the ceiling high above. Out of nowhere a ghost appears in front of Aragorn, a green haze surrounding his bones as he gives us a poisonous smile.

Here we go.

* * * *

I hand the canteen of water to the man next to me as the Rohirrim rest near a river, a day's ride from Gondor. We are not moving fast enough yet as fast as all six-thousand of us can. I see Éomer rushing back over to his uncle who stands close by.

"The scouts report that Minas Tirith is surrounded. The lower levels in flames. Everywhere, legions of the enemy advance," Éomer says.

"Time is against us. Make ready!" Théoden says.

A horn sounds and men rush to get back in the saddle. Éomer only has to give me one look as I hand Firefoot's reigns to him to know that we both have the same doubt of getting there too late.

"Prepare to move out!" Éomer shouts above the crowd.

"Make haste," Théoden says as he begins to lead the column once again. "We ride through the night!"

More horns blow as we all trudge forward once again for a long night ahead of us. I ride low against Ashkin, feeling his heart beat on the left side of his chest and use it to steady myself. These men around me are fierce, as the Rohirrim have always been but there isn't enough of us, especially now that Gondor's forces are probably cut in half from already fighting. I can only hope that my brother, my love, and my Dwarf friend are having luck summoning an army from underneath the mountain. I let that hope overtake my worries because just like at Helm's Deep, hope is the only thing we have to hold onto.

* * * *

Hope runs through my veins at our small victory as I stand between Aragorn and Gimli on the shore of the Anduin river outside Osgiliath. I can feel the army behind us, waiting for the right moment to reveal themselves. The Corsair ships finally come into view, just like Lord Elrond foresaw, and Aragorn gives me a small smirk while holding Anduril in front of him. The enemy comes closer, some ten or more ships behind the leader as it passes in front of us.

"You may go no further. You will not enter Gondor," Aragorn confidently shouts to them.

Laughter sounds from the Corsair men, all of them not knowing what is to come. I didn't even know what was to come just an hour ago, never believing that I would ever fight with an army of ghosts.

"Who are you to deny us passage?" a man, probably the captain, yells back.

"Legolas, fire a warning shot past the bosun's ear," Aragorn quietly says.

I load my bow, feeling my muscles get into position like they have a million times before, and move to take the shot.

"Mind your aim," Gimli mutters.

Something hits the end of my bow and my aim is moved right as I let go of the arrow. It flies and imbeds itself into a man standing next to the captain. I curse and look to the culprit, Gimli covering his mouth with a fake look of concern overtaking his features. Deadly glares stare us down from the men on the ships as all of them are now halted in the water.

Why am I not surprised he did that?

"That's it. Right," Gimli shouts. "We warned you. Prepare to be boarded."

"Boarded? By you and whose army?" the captain shouts back.

"This army," Aragorn says.

The three of us run forward just as the King of the Dead and his men appear. I leap from shore and jump onto the ship, kicking down the captain and firing an arrow into his chest. The Dead glide over the river and engulf the ships in a matter of minutes. I fire arrow after arrow as easy as always and the first ship is easily taken. Men in the boats behind the first try jumping into the water but still only escape by drowning or death from the Dead. Soon this battle is over and becomes a quick victory, but I am anxious to get to Minas Tirith and the battle taking place on the Pelennor Fields.