Lind's Story

chapter 12

Lind was assigned to help to remove the foul orc head that had been placed on the carved figure that sat nearby. The ancient stone statue had been long neglected and abused. The old king's head with its chipped and broken beard was lifted back into place and Lind, along with many others, scrubbed at the stone with rock and blade to remove the foul scrawls and symbols scratched upon it by the folk of Mordor.

The main body of the host arrived before noon the next morning. Aragorn set a strong guard of archers around the crossroads to guard against any force that might arrive from the South or issue from Minas Morgul. The van would accompany Aragorn and Gandalf to the entrance of Morgul Vale to determine of there was any threat to Minas Tirith from the city of the Nazgûl.

The road east climbed gradually and was straight for the first mile or so, and then it turned sharply south and ran under a great shoulder of black rock before turning east once more. Lind could see the City of the Ringwraiths as soon as he rounded the outcrop of black rock. It sat at the head of a long sloping valley at the base of the Ephel Duath. The road could be seen winding through the valley toward the black, mouth-like opening in the west wall which was the gate. The river Morgulduin flowed along the road most of the way. Lind thought the water smelled foul, sort of oily and acrid, but then the flowers that bloomed in the meadows seemed to have a rank odor as well. His nose wrinkled in disgust.

They met no orcs or other of Sauron's folk as they went. Most had probably been lost on the Pellenor. There was no sign, even, of the Nazgûl, for which Lind was grateful. At last they came to a white bridge which crossed the river. At the far end of the bridge were carved figures of fell beasts, human and inhuman. The water that flowed beneath the bridge was silent, but steamed with a strange vapor, that chilled Lind as he rode though its mist.

Aragorn bade them halt at the west side of the bridge. He sent several parties across the bridge to set the fields afire. When these were ablaze, they pulled down the statues with ropes and winch and destroyed the bridge.

The next day they headed north. The weather remained clear with a west wind, but there was darkness over the Ephel Duath. The forest was thick and the meadows like lush green carpets, but they remained oddly silent as if they were waiting for something to happen. For a time, Lind rode forward with the scouts. They saw little sign of the enemy. Behind them, they could hear the trumpets blow and the heralds cry: "The King Elessar is come! Let all leave this land or yield them up!"

They stopped for the evening about 25 miles north of the crossroads. Lind picketed Hasufel after watering her well and then chose a place to put his bedroll. He found a protected place at the foot of an ancient oak. The ground was heavily padded with thick moss and all around there were sweet smelling herbs and flowers. Far to the west, he could see the White Mountains beginning to turn rosy in the late afternoon sun. Any other time, Lind would have thought the setting beautiful, but it was hard to appreciate it knowing that he would probably never come there again.

He joined some of the others around a small campfire in the chill of the evening. There was little storytelling or good-natured teasing as there often is in the camps of soldiers. Most men kept to themselves, sharing company, but not words. The next few days weighed heavy on the minds of all.

Lind went to check Hasufel one last time before turning in. He did not have duty tonight and chose to take a walk before going to bed. He ran into the hobbit, Pippin near the stream, filling water flasks.

"Lind! Hello! What are you doing so far from the rest of the Dúnedain?"

"Hello, Pippin. I decided to take a walk and stretch a bit before going to bed. Long hours on a horse leave me a bit stiff, sometimes."

"I haven't spent a lot of time, riding, myself, but I have spent a lot of hours bouncing along while a passenger with Aragorn or Gandalf. It can get tiring. Without having stirrups or saddle to ride in, I have felt at the mercy of whatever whim the horse might have. Sometimes it is a real disadvantage being small. We hobbits don't ride horses often. We have ponies to pull our carts and such, but with feet like these," he held up one large, hairy foot. "It's much better to walk."

Lind couldn't help but smile. "I guess it would be hard to find stirrups for you to use, but when you gave the horse a little kick to get moving, he would surely know he had been kicked."

Pippin laughed. "Indeed he would! Even as a foot soldier these feet are a challenge. Not so much for me, mind you, but for the man in front of me. Unless I stay half a pace out of line, I tend to step on the poor man's heels. I'm afraid we hobbits aren't very good soldiers."

"There is more to soldiering than riding or marching, Pippin. Lord Denethor must have thought well of you to take you into his service, and in your adventures you have proved capable of using your sword. You have shown your loyalty to your friends and your lord. These are more the things that make a soldier."

"I suppose, but I would much rather just be a hobbit, back home in the Shire. I am a bit weary of adventures. What will you do when this is all finished, Lind?"

"If we are successful and I survive, I don't know. I haven't given much thought to the future, lately. There seems so little likelihood that there is one. If we go back home again, Pippin, I will let you know just as soon as I decide."

"Fair enough, I suppose. Well, I suppose I had better get back to our camp. Good luck to you, Lind, if we don't meet again before, well, you know."

Lind nodded. "And to you, Pippin."

He watched the hobbit hurry back up the hill and walked back to his own camp. On the way, he thought about Pippin's question. What would he do? A few weeks ago, he would have spent time discussing his options with his father, but he was no more. It was probably of no use to consider the future, anyway. Even Aragorn had said that there was little chance that they would succeed. It was very likely that the only options that would be left to consider would be death or capture and he knew which of those he would rather face.

Despite his soft bed, Lind slept poorly. His sleep was troubled by dreams of strange creatures and fell beasts. He woke several times thinking he heard screams. He was glad to see the dawn come.