Part 8

They broke camp, and set off, following the hoof-churned earth along the river bank as the Forest thinned around them, and the ground rose, slowly but steadily, towards the Ethel Dúath, the Mountains of Mordor.

At each step the air seemed to grow colder, and the going harder, for freezing mists swirled up from the water, and hoar frost began to form upon their clothing, and in their hair.

When they stopped at midday, to eat and to give the horses a few minutes’ rest, Legolas drew Eowyn aside. “You are suffering, melmenya,” he said, taking off his cloak and wrapping it around her shoulders. “Let me take you back to Doro Lanthron—”

“No, Lassui,” she said, and he noticed that she touched her breast. “I want to keep going.”

“Valandil will be there by now. I can bring him, and some of the others—”

“I want to keep going!” she shouted.

Legolas stepped back in surprise. “Melmenya!” Then, smiling ruefully, he drew her into his arms, and hugged her tightly. “I am sorry, my darling. I just want to keep you safe—”

“You would not take Sighard back,” she interrupted, “though he is mortal. And, were it not for me, you would never think of abandoning Haldir, nor of leaving Ayleth in danger for one moment longer than necessary. I will not have my weakness make you act dishonourably, Legolas.”

And Legolas could not argue with that.

...

They rode on, climbing upwards, with Haldir at the front, leading them through the mist, picking his way across the treacherous terrain. Suddenly, he drew them to a halt. “More bodies,” he said.

The four dismounted and, working silently, collected up the remains of five men—one little more than a boy—and buried them with a quiet prayer, “Hiro hyn hîdh ab’wanath...”

“What were they doing here, my Lord?”asked Sighard, strapping his spade to his saddle.

“What we are doing, perhaps,” said Legolas.

“You think the reivers have taken more women?”

“We will know when we get there.”

“Lassui!” Eowyn had wandered away from the others, and was standing on the edge of a steep drop, staring down into the mist.

Legolas, alarmed for her safety, rushed to her side.

“The men put up a fight,” she said, pointing at two Orcs, in full armour, lying broken upon the rocks.

Someone—and Legolas doubted it was the men they had just buried—had ripped their helmeted heads from their bodies, and dumped them between their legs. “They dishonour their own dead,” he said.

...

Several hours later, having left the mist behind them at last, they crouched at the summit of the first range of foothills, looking down into the valley beyond. At the centre of the broad, saucer-shaped depression, a column of living rock reared up in splendid isolation and, as they watched, a gaggle of Orcs approached it from the east, and disappeared behind it.

“It is a natural fortress,” said Haldir.

“How are we going to get inside, my Lord?” asked Sighard.

It was Eowyn who, after a long silence, answered, “I think I know how.”

...

Hiro hyn hîdh ab’wanath ... May they find peace after death.