Chapter Text
CHAPTER LXXVII
THE BATTLE OF HELM'S DEEP
The sky above the ravine was utterly dark, the crow-haunted cliffs as silent as a tomb. All over the Keep, the people of Rohan stood as still as statues, their eyes trained southward as they waited for the inevitable. Indeed, the enemy was approaching. They could be seen over the horizon. A sea of black shapes, with pinpricks of torchlight scattered here and there. So many of them!
Outnumbered though they were, the people of Rohan were not entirely without hope. The Elves were with them, their main force arrayed along the length of the Deeping Wall. Since the structure could only accommodate half of the Galadhrim, the other half was positioned as a secondary force on the ground behind the wall. They, too, were standing in silent wait, their longbows resting by their feet.
"Courage," Annalyn whispered from where she stood, in the second row, near the middle of the Deeping Wall. Maybe it was foolish of her to be out here instead of the Keep, but she could no more leave her husband's side than he could leave hers.
Ahead and to the right of her, Haldir was peering into the gloom, doubtless seeing much more than human eyes could. Though he bore it well, the weight of his responsibility must have been crushing at that moment. For war always came at a cost, and that cost was lives.
Time stretched on. The oppressive silence gradually ceded to faraway noises—the clang of metallic footsteps and the echo of roaring voices.
To Annalyn's left, Ninael said, "Whatever happens, try to stay near me."
There would have been a time when such words would have nicked her pride, but not tonight. After all, this wouldn't be like the battles she had experienced in the past. This was actual war, against foes that were bigger and stronger than Orcs.
With a bow in hand—the one she had grabbed after her reunion with Haldir—Annalyn looked to her husband again. He must have sensed her gaze, for he looked over his shoulder just then. He was stoic, but when their eyes connected, she discerned his fear nonetheless. The fear of not being able to protect her. The fear of losing her.
Annalyn understood this, for the unthinkable had already entered her mind. What if he falls? What if I lose him?
Unwilling to consider this gut-wrenching scenario, Annalyn looked to the horizon just as a bolt of lightning split the sky. The ensuing thunderclap was deafening. Then the sky opened up.
As the rain intensified, soaking her hair and face, the enemy got closer and closer. When lightning struck again, Annalyn saw that the creatures were carrying spears, along with black banners that bore a menacing white hand.
"The White Hand of Saruman," Ninael supplied with disgust.
Saruman. The name was familiar to Annalyn. Although she had never beheld him with her eyes, she and her kin had oft travelled within view of Isengard. "A wizard dwells therein," her uncle had once told her. "Saruman is his name. They say he is a friend of Rohan."
They had been wrong, though. So very wrong.
As the enemy drew near to the fortress, the roaring voices grew much louder. So loud, in fact, that the flagstones seemed to tremble.
"Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none!" a voice suddenly echoed in Sindarin. Following the sound, Annalyn spotted the man who had spoken—one of the men Haldir had met upon arriving.
When the enemy drew near, the vanguard stopping in a long, menacing line, Annalyn's knees began to tremble. The Uruk-hai were strong and massive, their armour as black as night. As the creatures pounded their spear shafts against the ground, they looked up at the Hornburg, and growled for blood. It was a show of intimidation, meant to break their courage. Annalyn had to own that it was working.
The roaring continued. Though no order had been given, a lone arrow suddenly shot from the Keep. When it found its mark in one of the beasts below, a stunned silence fell over the ravine.
"Hold!" a man called. The same man as before.
With the arrow lodged in its neck, the Uruk gave a death rattle, and fell to the ground. A second or so later, the other Uruks shifted their focus toward the Hornburg. As they renewed their ferocious growls, one of their commanders raised a crude blade, and roared.
Thus it began.
The enemy charged forward, then the order came.
"Prepare to fire!" the bearded man called in Sindarin.
All along the wall, Elves reached into their quivers. Doing the same, Annalyn nocked her arrow, and drew the string.
"Leithio i philinn!"
Arrows were loosed at once. Over and over, they shot into the darkness, toward the enemy.
But the Uruk-hai had come prepared. Armed with crossbows, they, too, started shooting, their nasty arrows whistling over the ramparts, sometimes hitting their mark. When the first death cries reached his ears, Haldir felt the weight of it. The battle had barely started, and already his soldiers were dying. There was no time to look, though. No time to properly grieve. That would come later, he knew. If our forces survive this night.
As Haldir bent his bow, shooting and killing yet another Uruk, the creatures' assault progressed to the next phase.
"Ladders!" Aragorn called to all the Elves.
Indeed, great ladders could be seen down below. Carried by creatures on either side, they were soon raised against the Deeping Wall.
"Swords!" Aragorn cried.
The Elves drew their blades in unison. And not a moment too soon, for Uruks were clinging to the tops of the ladders, their weapons drawn and at the ready.
But Haldir was quick. Standing before one of the ladders, he gave no time for the creature to attack. With a swift lunge forward, he ran the Uruk clean through.
One after the other, the creatures climbed up, and assailed the Galadhrim. Amid the chaos and successive killings, Haldir chanced a look at his wife. Annalyn was still in the second row, her sword drawn as an Uruk marched up to challenge her.
In that split second moment, Haldir questioned why he hadn't insisted that she stay in the Keep. But even as he fretted for his wife, Haldir recognised her strength and will. Annalyn was not a soldier, but she had the skills to defend herself. Furthermore, she wasn't one to hide away. Not when her loved ones were in peril. Had he asked her to stay in the Keep, she would have bristled and refused. Of that, he was certain.
Rúmil was frustrated, bristling at the fact that he was part of the secondary force behind the wall. If he had had his way, he would have been fighting atop the ramparts along with his brother. Instead, all he could do was shoot over the wall, not knowing if his arrows even found their marks.
"We are going to run out of arrows soon," one of his brethren said. But scarcely had he spoken when young men exited the Keep, carrying bundles of arrows.
Once the secondary force had been restocked, Rúmil looked to the Deeping Wall once again, more precisely to his brother.
Haldir had just slain an Uruk. But the onslaught was constant. With quick and fluid movements, Haldir turned to face another of the creatures.
As Rúmil shot another arrow into the night, he looked to where Annalyn was fighting, holding her own against an Uruk that was nearly twice her size. You can do it, he sent his silent thoughts to her. When the beast swung its sword, Rúmil feared that might be it for her. Thankfully, she ducked to avoid the blow. Good.
Backing away, his brother's wife shifted her stance, and found an opening in the creature's defense. When she plunged her sword into its gut, Rúmil saw the feral gleam in her eyes. Though she lacked the lengthy training of the Galadhrim, Annalyn had strength of will. And skill.
Reaching into his quiver, Rúmil grasped yet another arrow. As the battle raged on, he bent his bow, and shot once more.
Shouts and death cries filled the air, the sounds overlaid with a constant clattering of swords. Gritting her teeth, Ninael caught a sword-thrust with the edge of her blade. With a circular motion, she repelled the Uruk, and redoubled her efforts to take him down.
The creature was fearsome, its face covered by a crude metal mask. When her sword finally found flesh, Ninael twisted her wrist to inflict even more damage.
Now that she had dispatched yet another enemy, she chanced a fleeting look at Annalyn and Haldir. For a mercy, they were still standing, giving their all, just like she was.
Being so near to the parapet, Ninael had a clear view of the army down below. With the briefest of glances, something caught her attention. There, on her left, the sea of Uruks was parting, allowing a path for two of their soldiers. They were carrying something. A metal sphere with spikes.
While Ninael had no idea what it was, the device undoubtedly had an evil purpose. As her focus narrowed on this new threat, she switched to her bow again. But by the time she was ready to shoot, the creatures had gotten so close to the wall, Ninael could no longer see them.
What are they up to?
No sooner had the thought materialised than another Uruk caught her eye. Holding a sizzling torch, the creature was running at full speed, in the direction of the mysterious sphere. Just as she aimed for the Uruk, another Elf shot at it, hitting it twice.
Despite his wounds, the creature kept on running toward the wall. Her heart in her throat, Ninael loosed an arrow, and hit him in the leg. It was for naught, though.
Fueled by his malevolent purpose, the Uruk ran straight for the wall, where she lost sight of him.
In the blink of an eye, the unthinkable happened. The wall exploded. Flagstones flew everywhere.
Reflexively, Ninael hunched her shoulders and covered her face with her arm. Whether by sheer luck or the will of the Valar, the ground beneath her feet was miraculously intact. As the dust settled, she straightened, and felt something brush past her shoulder.
It was Haldir. Shocked and horrified, he was staring at the gaping hole in the wall, where soldiers had been fighting just a few moments ago.
"No," he said. And with one sweeping look, Ninael understood.
Annalyn.
Annalyn had been standing where the wall had once been.