[300 powerstones bonus chapter]
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While the clash and din of slaughter thundered upon the western walls of Tusgar, the eastern ramparts lay strangely still. No sound of war came there, no shadow stirred.
Legolas stood gazing out upon the silent wilds beyond, dispatching scouts again and again to search the eastern approaches for any sign of the enemy. At that moment a bird swooped down and alighted upon the battlement before him, bearing tidings.
It was a message from his father, King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm.
Dol Guldur is beset by the armies of Lothlórien. More than fifty thousand Orcs of Dol Guldur have been driven back to defend their fortress. The host sent against Tusgar has turned aside. Already the soldiers of Lórien march north along the Anduin. In five days' time, they will reach you.
So it was revealed: here the lightning-strike at Gundabad, here the surprise at the High Pass, and here the defense of Tusgar, War had erupted everywhere.
The Siege of Dol Guldur was led by Celeborn himself, consort of Galadriel, at the head of five thousand Noldorin and Sindarin Elves, encircling the stronghold.
And in the Anduin's upper vale, Thranduil himself had led four thousand of the Woodland Realm , to strike against thirty thousand red-eyed Orcs bound for Tusgar. By striking at Dol Guldur and its relief, the Elves had forced Sauron's hosts to retreat and defend their citadel.
Thus were the Orcs divided and hindered. Some of Lórien's warriors held Dol Guldur in siege, while three thousand were sent to march northward along the river to succor Tusgar. Thranduil, too, had set forth with five thousand more. Yet it would take five days' march before either force could come.
When Legolas read the message, his heart leapt. He understood its meaning well. For the Anduin's broad waters cut the land, and at this time Tusgar alone held a crossing. With the Orcs forced to turn back, no army would strike at the eastern quarter of the city.
Realizing this, Legolas wasted no time. "Leave a hundred to guard the east. The others!ride with me to the west!"
"Yes, lord!"
"Kill!" cried the Elves, voices ringing like steel.
Meanwhile, in the western city, the defenders strained beneath impossible odds. Outnumbered tenfold, they bled and labored. Even a single volley of the enemy's arrows pinned them down behind the battlements.
Stone-throwers on both sides thundered, casting their burdens. Orcs swarmed up their engines to the wall, only to be driven back down in blood. Time and again they surged, time and again they were hurled away. For a time, balance hung between the sides, neither able to seize mastery.
At the beginning, each warrior of Eowenría took at least five Orcs with him where he fell. But as the day wore on, their strength waned, and the toll shifted.
Five to one. Four to one. Three…
The Orcs were too many.
Boom!
The gates shuddered as a colossal ram, driven by trolls, crashed against them again and again. Andric knew the doors would not stand much longer.
Then Legolas came, with almost a thousand and a half Elves at his back.
"Kill!"
They charged into the fray, arrows singing, and at once the tide shifted. Upon the wall the defenders found breath again, and the Orcs that had pressed them so sorely were thrust back with a sudden fury.
Andric called out, his voice hoarse, "Prince Legolas! Why are you here? What of the east?"
"Fear not," Legolas answered as he loosed arrow after arrow, each striking true. Between shots he spoke swiftly of the tidings he had received.
When Andric heard the east would know no attack, relief washed over him. Yet the words of five days' wait struck him with dread.
"That means," he said grimly, "Tusgar must stand alone for five more days."
He clenched his teeth and declared, "We cannot hold the western quarter for so long. We must yield it. Abandon the west, and fall back to the Sun and Moon Bridges,and the fortifications guarding the King's palace. There we shall hold."
Legolas asked, "And what of the people of the west?"
"Evacuate them. Send word to Domhere—he must lead the folk at once to the east. The gates will fall soon. We must delay as best we can, but no more."
Legolas pondered only a moment, then nodded. "So be it. Then we hold the walls for three more days."
Together they set the plan. Messengers ran to Domhere, who rallied the townsfolk. Tens of thousands began their flight.
By the time night fell, the western quarter was emptied of its people. Yet the battle did not cease. For a full day and night the Orcs raged, and when their assault slackened, both sides had grown weary.
The ground beneath the walls was black with corpses, more than ten thousand Orcs lay dead. But many of the defenders had fallen also.
The soldiers knew well that the morrow's battle would be fiercer still, and the strain upon their hearts grew heavy.
Then,no one knew who began it,the hymns of courage and glory were being sung by the warriors of Eowenría
The voices were solemn, ringing with sorrow. Again and again the words were sung, until even the Elves joined in.
There were no harps nor pipes, only the clash of sword on shield, and so was woven a music of steel and valor.
All were caught by the song, their hearts hardened to fate. Death no longer brought fear, only resolve. If they were to fall, they would fall gladly, giving life for freedom and for justice.
Andric looked up to the King's Tower, shrouded in bats, and knelt upon one knee. "Great King," he whispered, "protect the spirits of the fallen, guard those who yet live."
No voice answered, yet deep within, Andric felt a stirring, as though in the silence an answer had been heard. Perhaps this was faith.
On the third day of the siege, the walls were cracked and gaping from the Orcs' stone-hurlers. The gates, though mended time and again, now quaked beneath the blows of troll-driven rams. Andric knew the walls were lost.
But word had come from Domhere—all the folk of the western city had crossed to the east.
Andric and Legolas met eyes and nodded once. Then Andric, with two thousand men remaining, led the retreat to the inner defenses. Legolas and the Elves stood behind to hold the enemy, buying time with their blood.
The battles to come would be crueller still. Yet there was no choice. Either to flee and die hunted, or to fight together unto death and stand.