The Ring will come to Gondor by Varda

The Ring will come to Gondor

by Varda

Chapter 69; Perilous Crossing

Except for families like the Brandybucks, who lived near the Great River and favoured boats to get about, few hobbits could swim. When the wall of cold water hit Sam in the back and bowled him over like a wolf bowls over a rabbit, he knew he must die. Even in his health and strength he could barely manage a feeble dogpaddle but now he was weakened by his wounds and the long walk through the Great Drain. It was almost a relief to be lifted up and born away. When the water closed over his head and he breathed in the dark, oily tide, he felt almost resignation. He began to choke, and he was blinded by the sullen dirty wave. All he regretted was that Frodo had not got to safety before the flood overtook them...

Gollum was ahead of Sam and Frodo, and the water reached him last, overwhelming him in a headlong torrent.

But Gollum was a creature of hidden lakes and underground rivers. He was used to airless tunnels full of dead, deep water. What the Ring had taken from him it had partially compensated with the ability to survive for long periods under water. Knocked over by the flood he soon righted himself and kicked out with his webbed feet, his long pale arms darting to and fro in a quick agile breaststroke and his wide nostrils closing out the water and keeping in the air. He could even see in the black water with his preternaturally sensitive eyes, the large pale eyes of a half-blind cave fish....

And what Gollum saw was Sam at the very bottom of the flooded tunnel, his arms stretched out but not to swim, just sinking down as if embracing the dark water. His head was up but from the stillness of his body Gollum guessed Sam was drowning.

The hobbit's suspicious words against him filled Gollum's mind; he remembered his harsh treatment at Sam's hands in the chamber in Minas Tirith. Let the fat one die, he thought. It was all he deserved. Gollum knew it was far more important to hurry and find the Master of the Precious, somewhere far ahead....

And Gollum swam on, leaving Sam to drown.

But he did not go far. Into his mind came a vision, of a sunny day in the Shire, the light dancing on the deep green river, the summer fields stretching away on either side into the heat haze. A pang of grief smote Gollum, and he paused in his swimming. Deagol! Even after all this time, the pain that afflicts those who slay their own kin assailed Gollum. In some corner of his mind, like a forlorn plant clinging to life when all others have perished, a generous impulse still lingered, and it impelled Gollum to save Sam.

He turned in the water then, and with long limbs more like the fins of some striking predatory fish he dived to the bottom, and seized the collar of Sam's jacket in his bony, splayed fingers and hauled him up from the depths of the water and kicking strongly bore him along in the direction of the light at the end of the tunnel...

The Company rode away from the walls of Minas Tirith, towards the dawn, none of them looking back. They heard the great Gate slam shut, and a chill ran through their hearts.
'I wonder if I shall ever see the city again?' thought Ciall, and he cast a look to the side and saw, lying and sitting in rank upon rank, the sullen, unmoving army of Mordor.

Close up, they were unimaginably hideous; Ciall stared in horror at great axe-bearing half-trolls and man-like Uruks from the mountains of Shadow. Nothing in nature, he thought with a mouth dry with terror, could produce such shapes. Without realising it, he clapped his heels against the flanks of his sturdy cob, and the animal, made jittery by the closeness of the orcs, started forward.

Boromir leaned over as the lad overtook him and grabbed his reins and hauled his mount back.
'Steady, lad!' he called in a low voice. 'keep in rank. We must not break into a gallop or show haste or fear, that would only wake them up and draw them upon us...'

Ahead, Aragorn rode beside Gandalf. He too looked from side to side, but he was too curious about the orcs to be afraid.
'You said they were waking up, Mithrandir...' he said to the Wizard in a quiet voice. '..but they seem as dazed and powerless as ever...'
'Yes, they do....' replied Gandalf, keeping his nervous mount under control with a gentle hand on the reins. He looked at Aragorn with a twinkle in his eye.
'Some luck at last, perhaps....?'

Never had the Pelennor seemed so wide to Boromir. Often as a boy he had raced Faramir across it on their swift, well-bred steeds. The larks had started up from the dew-soaked grass under their hooves, and the sentries on the Causeway Forts had waved to them as they galloped past. How clear those summer skies had been, how free of woe! Though Boromir knew now that even in that endless summer the enemy was threatening their lands. But to the eye of childhood, everything is full of wonder and every path is a gateway to adventure....

'Your thoughts are far away, Lord Boromir...' a voice startled him from his reverie. He turned to see Eowyn riding beside him. She smiled inquiringly at him. '..may I ask what you are thinking of?'

Boromir sighed.
'I was thinking of my boyhood, spent on this very plain, with Faramir. We used to race each other across on swift horses, in the blink of an eye. He was always the better horseman...'
Eowyn smiled.
'I never saw so great a love between two brothers'

Boromir could think of nothing to say in reply. Eowyn went on;
'I have seen rivalry between brothers, certainly, even bitter contests of strength or skill in arms. Often the younger feels cheated, of an inheritance or of a father's love, and is jealous of the older. But two brothers in such harmony as you and Faramir, that have I never seen, not in Edoras nor anywhere else...'

'It was not always so..' said Boromir in a low voice. Eowyn looked at him in surprise.
'Once, I heeded not what Faramir said to me in counsel. I thought he was a dreamer, listening only to wizards, living in the past and buried in books all day long. I...'

Boromir stopped speaking. The horses walked on, their steady pace bringing the distant silver curve of the Anduin gradually closer. Eowyn was listening intently, waiting for what Boromir would say next.
'I wronged him' Boromir said shortly. 'He was always worthy of my love. But now I know he is also worthy of my respect....and my obedience..'
'You do not envy him the Steward's Chair, the one you should have had?' asked Eowyn. Boromir looked straight ahead. The girl saw a muscle tighten in his jaw, but he merely said;
'No...'

Just then Gandalf called back;
'We are approaching the ramparts of the Causeway; stay together, whatever happens. Do not get split up...'

Ciall craned to see ahead, and his heart sank. At the base of the slope up to the Causeway, beside one of the burned out forts, there stood a solid, impenetrable wall of orcs. Hollow-eyed and with yellow-grey skins they waited as if for the trump of dawn, close-packed and motionless.

Gandalf went first, urging Stua through the solid mass of bodies, which to Ciall's astonishment parted like water, allowing the Wizard and all the Company to follow. Ciall could feel the armour and weapons and even the hide of the orcs grate against his legs in the stirrups, and rub against the horse's flanks, making the beast shake its head and sidle nervously....

'Keep moving forward..' called Gandalf softly '..do not stop..'

The only place where the company could cross the river was the bridge at Osgiliath. As they ascended the steep slope to the Causeway, Aragorn saw that the bridge was blocked by a row of siege engines, stalled since the teams of orcs hauling them had stopped work to sit in the traces, or wander off. There was no way across by the bridge. Aragorn's heart sank. Gandalf, reading his thoughts, whispered;
'Do not despair; we will ford the river upstream. We will follow the Causeway to the North...'

Aragorn did not reply, but he knew that was a difficult and dangerous thing to do. The next place where they could ford the river was the narrows at Cair Andros, and the fortress there might be taken...but he nodded and followed Gandalf.

When the company had gained the top of the Causeway they went to descend into the dry ditch beyond. There, however, a dreadful sight greeted them.

Thousands of orcs lay in the long, wide hollow. Whether they were dead or merely sleeping, they presented an appalling sight to the company, like a great plague pit, or the aftermath of a terrible battle. Eowyn's resolve not to show any weakness before these great warriors faltered and she gave a cry of disgust and pulled her veil up over her mouth to protect herself from the stench.
'Keep going!' cried Gandalf. 'Just ride through them!' and he led the way, urging Stua down the slope.

The horses were agitated, setting their hooves gingerly among the sleeping or dead bodies. As they did so some of them stirred, and growled. Halfway across, a long, leathery arm reached up and seized Ciall's leg in a grip of iron.

The boy gave a yelp of surprise and horror. He urged his horse forward, but the orc held onto his leg, and was dragged after him over the bodies of his fellows. Ciall, almost unhorsed, drew his sword.
'Do not strike it!' shouted Gandalf, raising his arm in warning.

But it was too late. Ciall, lifting his arm high brought the sword down with all his strength, lent even more by his disgust and loathing....

The keen blade flashed in the bright morning air, and sliced through the orc's arm at the elbow. At once it gave a wail, long, high and shrill, a piercing scream that seemed to echo all along the ditch and across the Pelennor itself.

Freed, Ciall's mount galloped forward over the bodies, its eyes rolling with fear. But as the beast pawed its way up to the Causeway the Company became aware of a sound, growing in volume, rising from the host all about them.

The wounded orc's cry had sounded like an alarm, and suddenly the whole army, like a great horde of stinging insects, came alive and stirred themselves and looked about for something to kill....

Legolas and Gimli were just behind Ciall, and a great uruk, rising from the heap of sleeping orcs, suddenly gave a roar and threw itself on their mount.

Athas reared and whinnied, and Gimli would have fallen off but Legolas reached back and seized him firmly. At the same time he shot out a foot and kicked the uruk square in the chest. The creature fell back, arms flailing, snorting with surprise. Hauling Gimli back into place behind him, Legolas shouted.
'Fly, everyone! They are waking up, spur your horses and let us be away from this loathsome brood!'

For a few frantic moments every rider could do nothing but urge their mount up to the top of the dyke, hoping desperately that there would not be a host of orcs on the road at the top. On all sides hands reached out to claw them and try to pull them out of the saddle. They had to draw their swords and hack a way through. Eowyn felt her gown seized and would have been hauled from her mount but then she heard the whistle of a blade through the air and a sword sheered through the fine woollen material. She looked around quickly and saw Aragorn right behind her, his sword glinting in the sunlight, a half-smile on his face.
'I fear...' he shouted over the noise '...your robe is now in great need of your needleworking skills...'

As Eowyn's horse bore her up onto the road she smiled at him and shot back;
'I was never any good at needlework, Lord Aragorn....'

By all now the company had gained the Causeway safely, but on every side the hosts of Mordor were getting to their feet, picking up their weapons and sending forth a great roar, like the bellowing of a hundred thousand beasts. The tiny group of riders hesitated briefly, looking down at them in horror. Gandalf broke the spell.

'Ride on, Company of Gondor!' he shouted in a loud voice. 'Ride now to the North, to Rohan! Ride for your lives....'

Sam came to coughing and shivering, lying face down on great wet stones, dark and slippery with moss.

He raised his head to try to take in air and coughed up a rush of brackish water. A long, thin, bony hand smote him between the shoulder-blades.
'That's it, hobbitses! Breath in!'

Drawing in air with great gulps, Sam put his hands on the stones and tried to push himself up. Long, thin, white arms clamped round him and lifted him with surprising ease, and bore him from the stony shore to a long, muddy green verge, where Gollum laid the hobbit down as gently as he could.

For some moments Sam lay with his face buried in the grass, breathing in the sweet smell and feeling warmth and strength return to his limbs. He desperately wanted to drift off into sleep, but knew that to do that would be to die. Painfully, and shaking with cold, he sat up.

With a start he realised Gollum was sitting before him, gazing at him with his great luminous eyes, which seemed to hold in their depths the darkness of the tunnel they had just left. Sam said hoarsely;
'You saved my life, Gollum....why?'

Sméagol's eyes grew wider and rounder, gazing at Sam for a long moment, and the hobbit realised that Sméagol did not know the answer. Sam reached over and put a hand on the bare, bony shoulder.
'It doesn't matter, Gollum. You saved my life, and I won't forget it. That is all that matters....'

Gollum stared back at Sam, then looked at the hand on his shoulder, and raised his own hand, the long sinewy fingers spread out and trembling slightly, and placed it over the hobbit's hand. For a moment neither spoke, and there was no sound but the running water around them. Then Gollum whispered;
'I am Sméagol, if you please....'

Sam stared at the creature, then nodded and replied;
'Yes, of course; you are Sméagol, and I owe you my life. Thank you, Sméagol....'

It was a long time since any had spoken to Gollum in such kindly and courteous manner. Accustomed to blows and beatings and terms of hatred, he stared at Sam as if the hobbit spoke in a language he did not understand. Then a pale gleam of joy stole into the great blue-green eyes. But at that moment Sam started and looked round.
'Mr. Frodo! Where is he? What good is it if I am rescued and not him? Where is Mr. Frodo?'

And Sam scrambled to his feet with difficulty, and stood swaying and looking around. Gollum, remembering all at once that Frodo bore the Precious, jumped up and looked wildly round as well....

They had been swept into the river below the bridge over the Anduin. The outfall, once a great turetted abutment into the channel, had long been concealed under the fallen masonry and rubble of Osgiliath. Sam and Gollum were standing on a tiny spit of land that was all that marked the outfall of the Great Drain.

But there was no sign of Frodo.....