April 3023 T.A. Osgiliath
As the ships sailed up the river Anduin, the Eastern Bank came into view with on it the once great city of Osgiliath. While Gondorians were doing their daily business on the western side of the city, the small Arnorian garisson, on the eastern side, were busy organising the supplies for all the different armies in the field. Hirvegil was responsible for the organisation and protection of said supply lines but rather than him taking his residence in Osgiliath, to oversee it, he preferred to stay in his tower on the Rammas-dan-Morgul. Many said this was not out of personal liking that he stuck close to the battlements. Rumour had it, it was to keep a close eye on his impetuous commanders. Whatever it was that kept him from the city it meant a subordinate was placed to oversee the arrival and distribution of the supplies. It was this subordinate that welcomed our latecomers, arriving at long last.
***
“Lord Melion, I bid you welcome to Osgiliath!” the man, who probably was the captain of the garrison, proclaimed.
Melion waved his hand in answer and disembarked, finally setting a foot on solid ground after such a long time of seaborne travel. His men were gaunt and famished after a rough journey from Eru knows where they had been blown to, but spirits among the men were high at the prospect of a good dinner at the well supplied Dúnedain camps. Melion too had suffered from the journey, his otherwise plump cheeks sunken and his grey eyes hollow and apathetic. Melion's orders were, the captain of the garrison told him, to immediately march north and haste to the King's side. Melion however ignored the immediate order to march and permitted his men to set up camp around the city. They deserved a rest after the trying journey as well as they desperately needed to stock up on new supplies, especially food, before they could march, since everything they had taken with them had been all but spent. The Arnorian supply line was lengthy, going from the port of Osgiliath all the way across the Belegaer to Lond Daer, and goods from Arnor took very long to reach them on the front line. For food they had to primarily look elsewhere and even though Denethor was very much opposed to a North-South relation he did not refrain his people from selling the Arnorians supplies. These supplies consisted mostly of food, of which he had aplenty, at extortionate prices that is of course. The Prince of Dol Amroth also supplied the armies of Arnor albeit in smaller amounts but at a decent price, further defying the Steward. An army lives on its belly, Melion knew. Is it full then the army marches and fights with fervour, is it empty it begrudginly does so or not at all and breaks. Arnor's armies would not run out of food but at a great price. The Northern Kingdom's riches, acquired over the years, would all go to Gondor and enrich its people. This way the Southern Kingdom of the Dúnedain gained all the benefits from Aragorn's war and the Arnorians all the drawbacks, causing a resentment to gradually grow towards the Dúnedain of the South.
Osgiliath was still very much the ruined city it had been for the last millennium and a half, and though the eastern side had been abandoned for most of its existence after the conquest by the Uruks in 2475 of the Third Age, it was once again rife with life and reconstruction was full on its way. A temporary bridge was built to connect east and west until the great bridges could be reinstated in their absolute glory. Central in the city and on the river stood the crumbled remains of the Dome of the Stars. Once it had been the residence of the King of Gondor and had housed the master palantír of the South. The structure was destroyed when Castamir the Ususrper ordered his men to ransack Osgiliath during the Kinstrife*, also leading to the loss of the Seeing Stone. This conflict marked the beginning of the end of Gondor's golden age. The Dome of Stars was destroyed and the palantír lost forever in the Anduin. Ironic how the biggest blow Gondor could've gotten originated from within itself. The same thing had happened to Arnor, Melion reflected, with the dividing of the Northern Kingdom into three parts and how it had sowed dissent and eventually had led to the downfall of Arnor. Greed was something that lurked within every man's heart, an evil which had to be fought at all times. It had been the downfall of many a man and kingdom.
***
After an enjoyable but brief period in Osgiliath, Melion started his march towards the Black Gate. He was not far gone when some of his scouts returned at all haste. A strange sight indeed, Melion thought.
“Do you have something to report?.” the Lord of the Angle asked.
“Ea-, Ea-” the scout took a moment to catch his breath. “Easterlings, my Lord.”
“Easterlings?! In Ithilien?!” Melion replied, a slight panic settling in. He was no great general nor a particular good fighter. He had been appointed to command an army because of his station and history not because he was particularly skilled.
“What are they doing this far south? How did they get so far without being noticed?” Melion's mind was flooded with dreaful things. Talrim, his first lieutenant, stepped in while Melion was preoccupied with the horrors in his mind.
“Have they seen you?” he asked the scout, in a firm deep voice, who shook his head in answer.
“Good, good.” Talrim said, more to himself than to anyone else. He looked the scout in the eye.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Malborn, sir” the scout replied.
“Well Malborn you've done well and you deserve a good meal but that will have to be sometime later, but I can give you a drink before sending you on your next assignment, here.” Talrim handed over his water flask to Malborn who took a great gulp before handing it back over. Talrim adressed the scout. “You are to keep a close eye on the enemy and keep us informed of their every move. Try to see if you can figure out how many fighting men they have and what sort of equipment they bear. Try...”
Malborn interrupted Talrim.
“Begging your pardon sir but I already know these things. I would say they have a fighting force of roughly two-thousand men strong, some of them wearing shiny golden armour. I have also seen something utterly dreadful.” Malborn's voice softened. “They have chariots, like the ones they say the Wainriders had when they invaded Gondor.” the fear visible on his face.
Talrim's face didn't reveal anything but inside he chuckled a little bit. Chariots were very useful on open ground but less so in forests. The dreaded wagons would be of little use to their foe amidst the trees.
“Very good Malborn, I believe you've earned yourself a promotion. Now return to the Easterling camp and keep us informed of their movements.”
Malborn inclined his head and turned his horse around returning whence he came. Talrim turned to Melion, who was looking a bit sheepishly towards his lieutenant.
“My Lord,” the lieutenant said in his calming deep voice, “I would advice us to advance quickly towards the enemy position. They have not spotted us as far as we know so we can easely take them by surprise. Their camp is only a couple of kilometers further to the east.” Talrim awaited his superior's approval.
“Yes, yes Talrim, that seems like a good idea. Prepare the men for battle will you.” Melion said mildly irritated, waving away his subordinate. The irritation in Melion's voice did not escape Talrim who bowed slowly, his eyes fixed on Melion's before carrying out his orders. He started shouting to get the men in good order while he left his commander. Melion hated it when he took over the effective command making him feel useless. An envious anger arose in him whenever he saw his lieutenant but he needed him desperately which he detested even more. Melion slowly unclenched his fists and tried to regain his calm. He took a deep breath and banished all thoughts of his lieutenant as he reached for his bow and methodically strung it. He hung it on his back while he felt the sharp of his sword. He was ready to go into battle.
Author's Note - Lore | *The Kinstrife was a brutal Gondorian civil war fought between the King Eldacar and his distant relative Castamir the Lord of Ships, later known as the Usurper (his epithet Lord of Ships denotes his position as chief admiral of Gondor's fleets). The spark of the civil war was the ascension of Eldacar as King of Gondor. Eldacar was a man of mixed blood, his father being of Númenórean descent and his mother being of the Northmen of Rhovanion. This mixing of Númenórean and Middlemen blood caused outrage in parts of Gondor, predominately the coastal parts where the pure blooded Númenóreans took residence, while the inland provinces were inhabited mostly with the orignal Middlemen population or men of mixed blood. In 1437 T.A. Castamir, with the help of the people of Umbar, (who at this point were still under the governance of the Kingdom of Gondor) attacked Osgiliath (at this time the capital of the kingdom) and ransacked it, destroying the Dome of Stars and slaying Eldacar's son, Ornendil. Eldacar fled north to his mother's lands in Rhovanion and for the next ten years Castamir ruled as a tyrant king. In 1447 T.A. Eldacar returned with a great host of Northmen and aided by the Gondorians from the interior provinces defeated Castamir in the Battle of Erui, slaying him. Castamir's sons fled to Pelargir where they were besieged for a while. Eventually they fled the port city and left for Umbar. Since they had control of all the fleets, Eldacar couldn't give chase and thus the Kingdom of Gondor lost its control over Umbar which would become the sworn enemy of its kingdom for the next 500 years. The Kinstrife left Gondor very weakened and together with the Great Plague it contributed much to the abandonment of the forts watching Mordor. The Kinstrife is said to be one of the most woesome moments in Gondor's history, as civil wars often are. |
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