[150 powerstones bonus chapter]
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The upper reaches of the Anduin, the valley above the river—Tusgar stood beneath a leaden sky. Clouds lay low and heavy, and upon the High King's Tower, the Star of Eowenríel burned like a fallen heaven—golden and fierce. From the broad face of the river there rose a thick clinging fog, so that the towns upon the opposite banks could no longer be made out.
Upon the walls, Andric and Domhere stood side by side, watching the whitening mist with grave faces. Domhere spoke:
"The Caladhîn have brought all their folk within the walls to shelter. I have sent word to the Woodland Realm, and His Grace Thranduil has answered. Prince Legolas will come with two thousand Elves to aid our defense."
"two thousand?" Andric mused for a moment, then said, "We already muster a thousand mounted archers and two thousand bowmen. I have raised two thousand auxiliaries at short notice. If these two thousand of the Woodland Realm join us, we shall have seven thousand to hold Tusgar. May the light of our King watch over us, and may this city stand unvanquished."
At that moment a messenger rode up with tidings. "Generals, the forces of the Woodland Realm have arrived."
Domhere smiled. "Come, let us go and greet our allies." They rode into the eastern quarter and there beheld an elven host entering the city. They went forward to meet them.
"We give thanks to the Woodland Realm for answering when aid was needed," Andric said. "It is a blessing to see you here. With Elven strength at our walls I am confident Tusgar may endure until relief can come."
Legolas inclined his head lightly and smiled. "Kaen is a friend to the Elves. The Caladhîn are of our blood by kin and by oath. By ties of alliance and of kinship we will not stand aside."
They exchanged formal salutations and straightway, for war was upon them, there was no feast and no song. They set their minds to the disposition of the city's defenses.
Even as they spoke, a horn sounded from the west. All three rose at once.
"The enemy approaches," Andric said, his eyes hard. "Prince Legolas, grant me five hundred Elven archers for the western walls. I will hold the west if you take the east."
"Very well" Legolas answered.
Domhere added, "I cannot lend my sword upon the wall, but in supplies I will provide what I can. Arrows and stones enough for ten days' defense I will see laid out."
The war-horn sounded again. An unending host of Orcs poured south along the Misty Mountains, a black tide sweeping down toward the plains west of Tusgar. This host had come forth from Gundabad; their numbers were ten times ten thousand. They were well armed and bore great engines of siege—war-carts, battering rams, catapults. Colossal trolls, grisly war-beasts with clubs like trunks of trees, roared among their ranks. All manner of monstrous voices pierced the air.
The Star of Eowenríel,The Arkenstone upon the High King's Tower shone and flared, and its radiance made creatures of shadow writhe in pain. Before the muster marched the Witch-king of Angmar with six Nazgûl. Black vapors gathered about them and mingled with the Orc host, dulling the pain the light caused to the dark things.
The Witch-king drew forth his black and rusted blade and pointed it toward the jewel, his voice a rasping whisper that swept like a cold gust over the host. "Diminish that defiant glow!" he cried.
At his calling thousands upon thousands of blood-sucking bats rose with shrill cries, a living cloud heading for the walls. They flew high above the battlements where arrows could not touch them, and wheeled toward the High King's Tower to cloak the Jewel. As they came near, many were burned by the gleam and fell from the sky. Yet their numbers were such that the Jewel's light was smothered beneath them and at once the city of Tusgar was shrouded in dimness.
Terror seized the townsfolk who hid within their houses. They peered from behind shutters and whispered prayers to the Star of Eowenríel
When the light faded, confusion spread among the defenders. Andric raised his voice upon the wall.
"The light has not gone, and the glory of King Kaen still abides. Strike down this foe and the holy light shall blaze anew!" he cried. "Soldiers of Eowenría, you have stood beneath holy light so long; now shall your mettle be judged. Will you tell the enemy with your blood that this is Tusgar, that this is Eowenría, that this land is under the protection of our great King?"
"Courage and glory!" they shouted.
"For Eowenría!" came the roar in answer.
"For Eowenría!" the cry multiplied, for Eowenría was not merely the name of a realm but Kaen's house, the faith of all who dwelt within it. When that name thundered from the battlements, the soldiers' hearts leapt and their fervor rose like a flame.
Again the Orc-horn blew. The host halted and drove forward their war-carts. A score or more of engine-cars rolled on, each built to stand as high as the city wall, for if they could be set close they would serve as ladders by which Orcs might climb.
Andric bellowed, "Bring the catapults to bear. Smash those engines; let not one live to reach our stones!" On the ramparts, hundreds of stone-throwers took aim. Great blocks of rock, many hundred-weight, were hurled and smashed upon the iron-clad siege wagons. Arrows aflame traced fair arcs and fell among timber and leather. Slowly, shafts of flame took hold and some engines were broken and set ablaze. Others were shattered by heavy stones and halted in their advance.
Yet the range of the catapults had its limit. When the enemy lay outside that zone, they could strike no more. Five of the siege cars were thrust to the very foot of the wall. With a crash their drawbridges dropped upon the battlements and from within them poured Orcs long biding their time. They leapt forth and met the defenders in bloody combat.
"Kill!" cried the bowmen, who bore spears and fought undaunted."Let these Orcs learn the might of Eowenría!"
"For Eowenría!" the men returned as horns sounded anew. The Orcs fell upon the walls like a black flood. "Loose arrows!" came the order.
Volleys from human archers and Elven bows rained death as rows of Orcs plunged forward and were struck down. Yet still more clambered upon the engines and surged toward the battlements. Rams were run at the gate, and the Orc host battered the city-bar. The defenders seized rolling logs and hurled vast stones from above, and so the fierce contest at the gate entered its most desperate phase.
Stones and logs smashed upon shields; iron met iron; men and beasts roared and screamed. The defenders fought like those who had no hope save their courage, and for a time the fate of the wall hung upon every man's arm.
The night had not yet fallen when the turmoil swelled and the clash of battle filled the air. The city breathed and heaved under the onslaught. The tale of Tusgar's defense had only begun and its end remained unseen.