Sword and Arrow

Chapter 58

The two walked side to side in silence, only stopping for Beruthiel to saddle her horse. Aragorn's hand lay on Anduril's hilt as he took uneasy glances at the Dimholt road in front of them.

Neither spoke, but they both paused before exiting the camp, looking up at the walls of the mountains in front of them. "One last time?" Aragorn said with a heavy breath.

"One last time," she agreed.

"Just where do you think you're off to?" Hidden in the shadows of the tent, Gimli leaned against a support pole, puffing on his pipe.

Aragorn closed his eyes. "Not this time, Gimli. This time you must stay behind."

"Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?" Legolas asked with a slight smile, emerging from behind the tent leading Arod.

"Might as well accept it," Gimli continued with crossed arms. "We're coming with you, laddie."

Aragorn sighed, shaking his head. And the four of them started on the Dimholt road in companionable silence. As they disappeared into the darkness, rising voices from the soldiers followed them.

"Why does he leave on the eve of battle?"

"He leaves because there is no hope."

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"He leaves because he must," Théoden corrected Gamling.

"Too few have come," Gamling answered with a shake of his head. "We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor."

Théoden nodded grimly. "No, we cannot." He looked at his men, his gaze determined. "But we will meet them nonetheless."

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Aragorn and his companions had not been walking for half an hour - they were afraid to ride for fear of the close quarters - that there was the pounding of horse hooves behind them. Aragorn immediately turned and drew Anduril, facing the swirling mists. Beruthiel nocked an arrow to her bow.

"Halt!" he said in a clear voice as the riders drew near. "Show yourself!"

They heard the muffled thump of a rider dismounting, then a dark shape in the mists of someone holding their palms out in a gesture of peace. "Halbarad am I," said the figure. "Come in search of Aragorn and his companions. Théoden King said we might find you here."

Beruthiel gave a cry of delight, shouldering her bow and running forward. She almost tackled the tall figure in a hug even as he stepped closer to the four. "Halbarad!" she said with a laugh. "First Lord Elrond, and now this! What are you doing here?"

"Searching for you," the tall man said with a laugh. He had dark flowing hair under his hood and joyful grey eyes under dark brows and he smiled as he thumped Beruthiel on the back. "We bring aid from the North."

And shapes of horsemen could be seen, with spear and sword and bow: knights and Rangers from Fornost. Two rode at the head, and now they dismounted and approached the smaller company. "Hail Aragorn, son of Arathorn," said one. He was an elf; one of the sons of Elrond, though which one Beruthiel could not tell. "We bear a great gift from our sister." The other one took from his pack a folded flag and handed it to Aragorn.

Aragorn unfolded the silken cloth to reveal a black banner embroidered with silver: the sigil of the white tree and gems set in the seven stars and crown above it. The King's banner. He nodded, considering it.

"Let the banner fly as we enter the Path of the Dead," he decreed, looking around at the rather large company. "The King will come."

Beruthiel could not put into words how proud she was of him.