The Holy Quest
By John Evans
Author’s Note
The composition of this story was a strenuous task and at the end of it I felt that I was unable to produce the appendices or introduction I would have otherwise made. Fore this reason I will probably create a volume of analysis of this story in the future but for now this is what you have got. Understand that this story may be harder to read with out reading volume one in this series but perhaps a small summery of events in the previous book shall be added later when I have a chance to add an introduction and those appendices but once again the prospect of more writing is still vague and distant regarding this particular book. Despite my difficulty in writing this story I feel it is superior to volume one “The Estari of Mordor” ” in many respects since the plot line ties back to the island of Numenor a topic of interest for any fan of Tolkien’s works found in the Silmarillion. I wish you my readers the very best and the up most satisfaction in finishing this wondrous extension to Tolkien’s secondary world of Middle Earth. Enjoy
The Holy Quest
When lands of bliss were granted
We basked in our delight
We learned the craft of elven lore masters
And lived long fruitful lives
But when the long years passed us by
And we mortals did die
We dared to wish eternal life that only the Eldar and Valar possess
The band was set against us
The blessed realm so close but all to remote
With avarice and spite we scorned the Valar
And assailed the immortal shores of Valenor
Grate was the wrath of our creator
And our desires were shunned and bliss ruined
At last the green wave mounting
Crushed our island continent Numenor to the depths
So hearken eager lords
And learn this my lesson well
For if one dares to cheat our god
Then death, destruction, and bleak sorrow shall surely befall.
Thus ended the journal of Sorosto of the stronghold of the Black Numonorians off the coasts of Arda repenting of his brethren's war against the Valar and his help in the downfall of his beloved home land upon the hour of his death
The sea’s surface was rising and falling tumultuously tossing the tiny Gondorian vessel here and there like a wooden model of a ship rather then an actual fully manned vessel of the crown. Rain clouds far overhead had released there contents upon the helpless ship and lightning struck the vessel's tall mast twice already scorching the wooden flimsy rising mast and burning the sails leaving a pitiful blackened rag that could not catch the blustering wind. All hands bellow deck where busy patching gaps in the rickety structure of the boat and while the captain was very knowledgeable of sea craft he could do nothing to save himself or his crew. Elendur he was named and it is said in the annals of the south that he was as learned as an elf in sailing and far more apt to dare the perils of the ocean compared to his fellow immortal counterparts. But this was not born of recklessness alone but rather an innate desire to find new lands or shores yet unexplored. Like the shipwright of Numenor Eldarian he was bound to the sea by an unfathomable obsession that never waned upon land but rather grew confined to the soil of his home in the busy city of Minas Anor following the fourth king’s rise to power like Aragorn who took the title of lord of all the lands of the Dunidain. The fact that Elendur could do nothing to save his men or himself was a heavy blow. All the smaller vessels intended to evacuate the crew were lost in the waves when the ship turned on its side fore over a minute before the men of the vessel could drag her out of her doomed position and back on what seemed to be the right track but then grate winds drove them miles and miles off course. Nobody could tell were they now were. They were lost in a vast ocean far from hope far from aid and it seemed to them that death was probably near to them all. The shadows of night where passing and the sun was rising illuminating the countless mountainous waves that swarmed both near and far all seeming to converge on the ship. As one enormous wave slammed furiously against the vessel's port side a horrible cracking noise terrible to listen to could clearly be heard. Then the ship began to waver a little in the water and at last started to sink rapidly turning swiftly to one side. Hurrying feet could be heard bellow deck running upstairs to try and meet with there captain fore the last time knowing that this was now the hour of there deaths and no force of man or angelic Vala could deliver them from this nightmare. Just as one ragged figure of a man emerged from the heart of the ship the vessel was almost completely turned on its side and was plunging in to the depths now not so far away. As the icy water surrounded Elendur colder then the snow of the Misty Mountains of the North more breath taking then the chill pools of his home were he once swam in his youth but just as he believed that salvation was out of reach he spotted threw the murky water a peace of the wooden deck falling off and he clung to it with all his might. Pulling himself on to this make shift raft of sorts the captain avoided sinking to the bottom with his crew and kept his freezing body above the water line fore a few seconds before being tossed by a towering green wave again. How Elendur clung to that flat plank of wood I can not say but despite all the conditions he found the strength to do so fore hours upon hours until the sun had road up the sky and dawn had past to high noon. The drenched man's cloak and other outer seafaring attire of the king's house was now lost leaving only regular soft fitting and flimsy common clothing behind that a cabin boy could have worn. Out hear amidst the tumults of the ocean all men were equal regardless of status or wealth. Elendur knew that all too well but now only survival was on his mind. He scanned the horizon fore approaching ships far off shore on some other mission of exploration or commercial fishing but few boats sailed this far form the shores of Middle earth. Then something dark and wider then any vessel appeared out of the mist and poring rain. It was land. It was not too far away but it would take all the power in the sailor's limbs to at last walk on that mysterious isle or what ever land mass it was. Kicking hard but not letting go of the wooden plank the captain struggled against the current. Wave upon crashing wave blocked his progress but despite all the odds he fought on. It was do or die. As Elendur grew even closer he could clearly see that it was an island with many green trees and at its western end was set a large stone structure very tall with a lofty tower who's pinnacle had only one large round window that once could have acted as a light house. Focusing on the tower the sailor was suddenly struck with an overwhelming curiosity and he kicked harder and faster. Closer and closer the island loomed up until after much hardship and agonizing labor the toil of witch can not easily be compared with other trials of the past he stepped foot on the sandy beach a half a mile distant from the fortress and ancient whether beaten tower. Walking a little ways further after much well earned rest Elendur found an old path overgrown with weeds and thick under brush that had not been cleared fore many a long year. Jagged stones appeared on either side at times when approaching the mysterious structure and on those stones at times were some times seen runes too weathered to make out. If men once lived hear they were long gone the captain thought miserably but still trudged on driven by the building beyond. Who lived there and why was beside the point to Elendur. It was just a vague but unshakable sensation that drew him closer to the towered fortress now appearing not as large as it had from far away seeming majestic and glorious on the shores of that tiny island. The path went on like a serpent until at last the grate gate of the fortress loomed up half open as though beckoning Elendur to step inside ominously. Should I go further he thought now fore the first time wondering if what he was doing was proper or altogether dangerous but now sensing the curiosity creeping over him and clouding his judgment he went on with hardly a glance behind in to the darkness of the chambers and halls with in. The first lonesome room that met his gaze was a narrow walk way with openings with out doors on either side gaping endless pits of unfathomable depths that held sinister secrets and lost stories witch had thus far not been revealed. Elendur then stumbled in to a wide council chamber in the middle of witch rose an immense staircase and but a few yards away from its foot what appeared to be the ruins of a long round table barely standing on only two out of the original four legs it once bore. The captain found it strange that no bones or corpses were seen on the floors but it seemed that the people who dwelt hear had left long ago before this stronghold was overcome not by an invading army but by the forces of nature. The sounds of the sailor's footsteps was like noisome drums in the bleak silence. At times he thought he heard some one whispering behind him some name but turned around to find no on there. Disturbed but still driven he went on. The captain had decided to climb up the stare case and by all the Valar and the one to whom all served he was going to find that lofty room high above the world he would stand at the crown of the tower and gaze at the sea. Then he would think of rescue but fore now the mystery of this place burned his objectives down to this clear set desire that needed to be savored at once or left to gnaw his mind until madness overcame him. The stares creaked under his heavy trot and the captain was worried fore a moment that the entire staircase might collapse but nevertheless he continued to ascend with out difficulty or hindrance until he reached the stare's top were he found after a brief landing a locked door on witch no runes were set. Elendur banged on the hard wooden surface of the wooden barrier with all his body and despite the many bruises his broad side received and arms the door would not budge but remained transfixed as though turned to locked by spells of magic. Searching fore a key some ware on some ledge by a near by window and looking at the floor he noticed that the dust of the landing on witch he now stood had been cleared and washed away as though polished. Something wasn't right. At last overcome by failure and believing his curiosity drowned by reality the captain sat down at the doorstep and fell to thinking of his task of escape and the various implications that that one goal held in such an isolated place. He then unwillingly felt an unshakable drowsiness come over him and so the sailor slept undisturbed fore hours and hours until at last he was awaken by a sound far below in some chamber close to the gate. Waking startled to find that it was night once again he heard the noise again. It was the unmistakable sound of foot steps. Some one was now climbing up the stares at a rapid pace. The person's strides were rapid and unceasing growing louder and louder. Shaking with uncontrollable fright that could not easily be explained Elendur was left transfixed in his crouching hiding place and unable to meet the invading noises with calm resolute retaliation. He could only watch and wait. From the shadow of the stare case not so far away that faded in to the darkness a tall shape now could be seen man shaped but still indiscernible to be friend or foe. The shadowy form of the figure grew larger and larger until at last it stood only a few yards away. Now the person's features could clearly be made out. The individual was an old man or so he appeared and in his hand be bore a wooden staff. He had a white beard and a set of eyes full of understanding and memory. Then those eyes locked gaze with the captain and the old man smiled and climbed vigorously to the very top of the stares and walked to the sailor's side. Grabbing the captain's army thus bringing Elendur to his feet he asked politely as though they had just met on the street "Who are you sir?" The surprised mariner replied "I am Elendur a captain of a ship of Gondor in the service of king Amandil." "my vessel was lost and I by my strength and courage found this island and its grand abandoned stronghold this fortress and desired to reach its pinnacle's top most chamber for there I believed I would discover its secrets." "It was very odd a curiosity nagged me is still drawing me to this room but the door is locked." "I can help there" the old man said lifting his staff. With a inaudible word the door flung open revealing an office full of papers and books. On a table next to a chair a large iron key was laid and beside it a scroll and one grate large book thick and open to a particular page. Giving the old man a thankful and stunned look of respect and dignity Elendur walked to the table and stared at the open page seeing runes that he couldn't quite make out in the gloom. He didn't need to. The wondrous old man promptly snatched the book from his trembling hands and brought it to the round window before the desk were the light of the waning moon glimmered threw the glass. It was now the first time that the captain noticed that before the window hung a large contraption clearly meant to shine light threw the window. This tower was indeed a light house. The old man began to read in a voice now more kingly and refined then before. This is what he read. "We came hear on the orders of our high king to gain wealth from the local populous to help finance the war." "We now need to return." "The king needs us to help man the ships of his armada." "We are to assail the undying lands and leave this place." "The Valar shall pay for not granting us our immortality." Now turning around to find that Elendur looked puzzled he asked gently "Does this make any sense to you?" "No sir not at all" replied the sailor. "Think about it then for a moment" said the old man. "This is an unknown dwelling place designed to suppress its inhabitance." "The owners of this place clearly wanted to return home there to man the fleet of a mighty overlord seeking to assail the Valar." "You don't mean" gasped the mariner turning deathly pale suddenly putting the pieces of the puzzle together in his mind. "You can't mean that were talking about . . .was "Yes" grinned the old man looking pleased. "I am talking about Numenor." "The island gifted to the warriors of old who fought against the dark lord of the north with the elves." "After thousands of years they became corrupt under the sway of there new friend Sauron and resolved to attack the Valar in the West and so they were destroyed utterly leaving there island in ruins." "A small group of persons faithful to the Valar escaped and as you know they set up the kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor in Middle Earth." "It is history that you obviously have been taught before." "I and my people were taught about the island of our ancestors and its downfall." "When Sauron came to the island he rose from prisoner to high priest and many men worshipped Morgoth." "In those days our fathers of old were persecuted for rejecting Sauron and the worship of the darkness." "Evil men out of Numenor came to Middle Earth and built strongholds like this one but all of them were lost or so I deemed." "All of them" said the old man "Save this one." "This island on witch we sand was once apart of the main land but the one Eru Iluvitar removed this fortress and the lands about it to farther out at sea until the time was ripe for man to find it again." "I bring you Elendur a message from Manwe Sulimo high king of the Valar." "He informs you wisest of all mariners since Earendil that Numenor has been raised from the depths of the sea by Eru for only three weeks so that you and your people can assemble an expeditionary force to remove all the records of healing and other arts long lost to your own lands were they can be used for the benefit of your peoples." "You have been selected to lead this expedition by Iluvitar himself." "ME" cried out Elendur trembling with amazement and excitement at the same time. Such an honor had never been bestowed on a man by Iluvitar since the old days. Why was he chosen? The captain did not know but he knew that he shouldn't argue with the will of Eru. Fortune had turned in his favor and he would not scorn it. Also the fact that Numenor had risen was incredible news. The scholars of Minas Anor would be thrilled for years. "What of other artifacts of the lost island" asked Elendur thinking of the other treasures that still lay in Armenilos and Romenna. "Take what you can find as long as it is for the preservation of the past and not out of personal greed or I worn you it will lead to your own undoing" said the old man now leaning on his staff a bit more heavily a tad agitated perhaps. "When am I to set out" hurriedly asked the sailor longing etched across his face. "Do not go home" commanded the bearded wrinkled old stranger clearly thinking hard. "It will take you a week to reach the island, a week to excavate its secrets, and a week to go home." "But I don't know the way and I have now no crew" said Elendur now puzzled once again. "Bless me I nearly forgot" said the old man turning to the table. "Its hear in this book and on this scroll" he said passing the sailor the two artifacts witch the mariner placed reverently in to a pack that dangled from a course leather cord. "Not all of your crew was lost in that storm" said the old man looking in to elendur's eyes again intently. "That storm was the aftermath of the rising of Numenor." "Some men of your crew died of course but a few of them found this same island by the will of the Valar while you slept hear." "I have come on the Valar's behalf fore this time and a road to the blessed realm has been prepared I shall leave soon." "I have also brought with me a smaller vessel that will suit your crew for this voyage." "Use your book, map, and wits and you will return a hero." "Stay too long in Numenor and fall in love with what riches still remain there and try to horde your ship with piled gold and jewels and heirlooms." "That will lead to your undoing." "Come" he commanded nudging Elendur to the door way." "No time to search this room." "Your crew is waiting." Just before they reached the foot of the stares some time later the mariner asked genuinely curious "What is your name dear sir?" The old man halted and slowly turned around. That same familiar smile stretched across his kindly aged face and he replied carefully in a slow low warm gentle monotone "Do you not already know?" "You have heard it before." "You read about me when you were much younger." "Yes you heard of me before." "One day we may meet again but as for now I must leave you for a while." And with that he simply darted off down a long hall and out a side entrance. By the time Elendur had stepped out the gate and saw his new glorious ship he could see another vessel behind floating away in to the distance. As he met up with his friends again one of them asked him ""Did you find out who he was?" "No but I guess" quietly said the captain. "I wonder if he actually might be . . .was "Is that possible." "Could he have returned for this short time." The names of a particular wizard echoed threw his mind like some one had spoken them from a grate distance. Gandalf. Gandalf the white. Mithrandir. The gray pilgrim. Dawn had now come and the shadows of evening had been driven away. Elendur and his companions had a quest. It was time to carry out iluvitar's wishes. All his men knew what they had to do for they too had spoken with the strange old man. All of them were eager to be gone. Numenor the island of the star was waiting.
Chapter One
Second in command First Mate Elrohir watched attentively as his friend and dear captain scanned threw the scroll of the rediscovered ancient Numenorian stronghold. The battered wrinkled worn piece of paper was clearly a map of the route that the mariners of the crown took to return to there island. The book held far more information regarding there mission though that Elrohir knew all to well. Looking over Elendur's shoulder he could see countless maps of not only alternative routes that mariners could take to the island but topographical and political maps of the island itself not to mention a full account of the black numonorians reign over the island and there havens like to the one witch Elendur found. The first Mate nodded appreciatively at his old sea mate and leader. They had ventured on countless expeditions together, had faced the same hardships, and although Elrohir was Elendur's subordinate they treated each other like equals even before there crew and since many of the men felt the same way about there captain and treated him as there fellow sea mate and not an overriding authority when all was calm and not in peril they respected there friend's working partnership. Yet in dire circumstances or when discord arose between the crew at times Elendur knew had to keep his mates in line. He knew that in some tight places the chain of command needed to be upheld and once again because the crew understood this completely they generally respected this as well. Life on the sea was rough and unforgiving. One night you might be lying in bed safe and sound and another you could be battling waves and strong winds. If you weren't interconnected but subservient at times then all hands on deck would sink and never return to port. But in most circumstances the crew was one big happy family and while all regarded Elendur almost like a father they were aloud to treat him as just an ordinary sailor like themselves that is until the call to action drew them back in to the fray and there kindly ally and friend became there strict overlord. It had been four days since there setting forth from the lost stronghold of the Numonorians and no sign of difficulty had a risen yet as a result of poor whether or arguments among the crew but Elrohir had some premonition of dread that continued to creep up his spine when ever he turned to the waters on witch they now road. Something couldn't bee right. He had never been so uneasy and even the kindly face of the captain searching threw his book and map was a little tense. Elendur was feeling it too. It was like a voice nagging them to beware from a remote distance urging them to be cautious to watch there back. But all was fine thus far. The whether was positively lovely. The gentle cool ocean breeze was comforting and the clouds were white and not black with rain. The sun brilliantly burned bright and bold down delightfully upon all the men on deck. The captain had even left his own quarters to read outside to escape the stuffiness of the rooms bellow deck. All of a sudden the look out from the crows nest cried out and swiftly traveled down to the deck to salute his superiors his face contorted in a rigid gesture of discomfort and dismay and . . . fear. There concerns were warranted after all. Now Elendur stood up from his chair and became the stern leader once again asking "What is it sailor?" "Another vessel" stammered the look out biting his lip. "Well what is so dangerous about this one ship" interrupted Elrohir speaking his captain's unspoken thought aloud. ""Well the vessel is obviously not Gondorian but like to those witch were used by the Harad and other cruel men in the service of the black hand of Mordor." "It is headed this way at a grate speed catching the wind but how many knots I can not guess." "In a few seconds you too will be able to see it." "It has black sails and is a much larger vessel." Elrohir and Elendur exchanged worried glances. This was no friendly ship baring tidings from the white city or another exploring vessel of the crown. They were facing old enemies bent on there destruction. Hardly any ships sailed these waters save fore at time those of Gondor and those previously under the control of crewel men out of the far south still unconquered. Elrohir first broke the tense silence. "Do you think we can out run her mate?" The look out bowed his head and said slowly frustrated and upset. "No sir." "She has the wind at her back and she will be heading this way faster then we can redirect our position to escape her clutches." "We can only face her head on." "We will meet her ship to ship" pronounced Elendur rising taller then before and looking at the shadowy speck of the vessel grow larger and larger in the distance until its black sails billowing in the blustering wind that had picked up in the last couple of minutes were evidently visible. Then Elrohir asked the captain calmly not betraying his unshakable terror "Should I man all hands on deck with arms sir?" "Yes do so at once" came the stern voice of Elendur drawing his sword and flinging it about over head in a threatening gesture before temporarily sheathing it again until the time was ripe for battle. "You sailor" said the captain now turning to the motionless look out. "Go to the man at the weal and tell him to guide this vessel along the enemy's port side, do you understand me?" "Inform him of our peril." Nodding and saluting once again the young lad jogged off barking other commands to his friends to get there weapons spreading the word. They had company. Elrohir could feel the ship moving beneath his feet, see the vessel of there foes draw ever closer, hear the yammer of the men , and could generally sense the presence of some other will besides other then there own massing its hidden strength against them. On the deck of the approaching black sailed vessel stood a row of heavily armored men ready fore a fight with bowman at there backs and swordsman on the very edge of the vessel along side pikeman waiting eagerly to swoop there opponents in to the rushing waters bellow with there weapons. The tinny host of the sailors was armed in a like matter save fore the fact that they had no armor but plenty more bowman fore the men needed such long range weapons to kill animals on strange shores to feed the crew when they made land fall. There were several isles yet unexplored that Elendur originally wished to visit. The men of the enemy vessel were no average southrons but clearly Black Numenorians remnants of the kings men of Numenor hating the faithful to the Valar who escaped the downfall. The Black Numenorians openly worshiped Morgoth and served Sauron as lord king and god but as far as the historians understood they had not played an enormous role in the Sorcerer's War since the enemy of that conflict came out of the East rather then the south. In the south the black Numenorians had there own dwelling places and many allies. The faces of these evil folk were blood thirsty and furious. Just as there captain a tall dark haired man with a lofty helm was about to give the order to fire arrows and begin the assault, Elendur stopped him in his tracks with a look that would have made a mountain troll run fore his life. In a commanding monotone the Gondorian captain said ""In the name of king Amandil descendent of Elessar lay down your arms and depart at once to your homes in the South and leave my crew to its mission." The black Numenorian simply sneered contemptuously and replied in a high raspy voice ""We heard of the resurrection of Numenor and wish to share in the spoils." "A mariner sailing too far from shore got swept up in the storm a few nights back and I found a map passed down fore generations leading to the island continent." "The treasure there is just as much mine as it is yours." "By this right by our blood line we come to destroy your ship and hold you captive and thus rod you of your share of the gold but also to gain renown as heroes back home." "Our king will be pleased to learn that fools like you have been taken so easily to be publicly displayed for torture." "Knowing your fate take what little time you have left to lay down your own arms, come quietly, and perhaps we might just lock you up until the fun will begin in the South." "You all are as good as dead." "I outnumber your tiny little band of sailors three to one." "My men are no ordinary sailors but trained warriors." "I deem your own rag tag bunch of men insignificant in comparison." "IN that" said Elendur angrily face scarlet "You are mistaken." ""Are you offering death now or death later or worse thralldom." "We shall take none and die fighting if need be." "Better to die with a sword or bow in your hands rather then to fall witless and in chains." "I am warning you my fellow captain depart or you and all your men will perish." "My tiny band of friends will give you more trouble then you can handle all at once." "Warriors of the field are no match fore fighting men of the Sea." And with that the captain of the sailors of Gondor raised his hand giving the signal and a burst of arrows struck the enemy before they could retaliate. The pikemen of the foe were over throne and the swordsman met there match indeed soon falling in heaps to feed the sharks bellow in the waters of the ocean deep. Despite the numbers the battle was swiftly evened out by the courage and fighting skill of Elendur's men. A captain couldn't have been more proud to see his men in there glory cutting down foes bent on there total destruction with limited resources. The one obstacle though that the forces of the light had to face was the armor of there opponents. It was thick and well forged. It took the thrusts of a mighty man to breach it. The odds were even now but the struggle still intense. Elrohir flung his sword about cutting of heads merrily fear leaving his face to be replaced by a crazed smile. An arrow nearly missed his head but he hardly noticed it content with engaging surprised opponents who's reflexes were too slow to meet his rapid movements. Hear and there the blade flickered in the sun and then fell to rise once more but this time stained with the red blood of his adversaries. Elendur after slaying a sly foe who tried to kill him from the side turned to find that the one drilling the archers on were and when to fire was none other then the young lad of the crows nest. The young man's smooth face grinning as he deflected an arrow of an enemy with the blade of a short sword that he had grabbed just in time lying at his feet. Each side had fought each other were ever chance or opportunity allowed. Some men of Gondor were on the black Numonorians ship, and some black Numenorians were on the Gondorians ship each armed host reeking havoc and tossing men overboard but it soon became clear that Elendur was gaining the advantage. Standing at the edge of his vessel the captain of the Gondorians strove with the captain of his enemies on his foe's vessel. There swords flashed hear and there but neither blade met there mark fore a long time. Elendur tried to strike his opponent's left arm but was hindered by one last swift movement of his attacker. Then the black Numenorian tried to decapitate the Gondorian, but Elendur pushed the blade aside with his own finally leaving a long scratch along the man's face with his own weapon. Instinctively razing his hand to inspect the wound the black Numenorian failed to block his enemy's grate thrust and with a shriek he fell in to the gap between the ships to his death. Elendur lifted his sword to the skies and shouted a mighty war cry that ring loud and clear in the fresh salty air. All the faces of the Gondorians were turned to there captain and they chanted his name as they slew the leaderless foes. Armored men fell in moments to determined fighters under Amandil's banner and the white tree and seven stars seemed to rejoice flying in a breeze that came out of the west strong. Sounding the retreat the last couple of foes still on the deck of Elendur's ship fled and those still alive on the black Numonorians vessel of the Gondorian host returned to there own boat with wide smiles on there faces. Before any of them could decide whether to ransack the black Numenorian vessel the wind out of the West suddenly blew harder and turned in to a monstrous gale. The mighty wind blew them all away far from there enemies not farther from there destination but actually closer to the island of the star. It was clear that the Valar were on there side. The would reach the island with Iluvitar's blessing.
Chapter Two
The following day the entire crew was in a jolly mood and that evening all the ship mates gathered around the dining table and drank there mead heartily wondering what the ancient ruins of there ancestors home would look like. They would reach the island continent on the seventh day and that evening would have been there fifth night out at sea, on the day after there encounter with the black Numenorian vessel. The only person that night genuinely disturbed was the captain Elendur. He pored over that one book and scroll as though his life depended on it and often muttered to himself names or places that his first mate Elrohir didn't understand. The sailor didn't seep much and hardly ate. He was famished and pale of face and he always seemed to look at things far off and remote. Something was weighing heavily on his mind but what none of the crew could guess, none of the crew wanted to know, except Elrohir. The first mat had thought of many things his friend and boss was worried about but those perils mainly seemed to be not of such grate account as to actually leave this brave valiant and adventurous sailor completely concerned perhaps even all though he was loathed to admit it. . . . possibly afraid.
At last seeing that his captain couldn't go on so stressed and run down, Elrohir came to the captain's chamber after supper and asked Elendur what was the matter. At first the captain tried to shrug it off as just exhaustion from a night with out enough sleep and then the possibility of there being more enemy vessels, but at last he revealed the bottled thoughts of his troubled mind. "The old man I met on the night before we set out came from the Valar." "He informed me that if we took anything out of greed from the island of our ancestors that it would lead to our undoing." "When three weeks are up the land of Numenor will sink again beneath the waves but I'm wondering . . .was "What" blurted the first mate looking sternly at his good friend with eyes that bore obstinately in to his captain's. "I am afraid that it is a possibility" continued Elendur in a low slow voice "That if we take any thing fore ourselves and not for the preservation of the past then Eru Iluvitar might drowned the continent while we are still exploring it before the date the One has set for the second downfall of the land of the star." The shocked look of horror melded with understanding crossed briefly across Elrohir's face but then was replaced by an expression that told the captain that the ship mate was thinking very hard to himself about the deadly matter in grater detail. At last the first mate asked "What of our friends who we just obliterated and left behind?" "If there are more black numenorians out there then they could be making for the island as well and if the reach it while we are still there then . . .was "They will claim the treasures of Numenor fore there own and we will all be dead men" bluntly stated Elendur finishing his friend's thought. Captain and sailor friend and friend stood transfixed to the wooden floor making no noise fore several long strenuous minutes. At last Elrohir broke the silence and simply said staring down at his boots now uncomfortably "The crew needs to know." "We will be there soon and once we reach the shores of . . .was "I know" grumbled the captain restraining his anger reluctantly. "I just haven't figured out how to brake it to them." "They deserve a good salary but you know that the crown won't pay as much as they need." "Then they will have to sail on another expedition and leave there families shortly after returning to port." "Amandil is a good king but his accountants and bankers are as bad as Orcs and while I love the sea I care fore my crew more." "How am I supposed to tell them that all the gold and jewels they will take will now belong to the crown and not there families?" "How am I going to brake it to them that instead of more time with there wives and children perhaps even retirement I offer more hardship?" "Tell them of there peril" answered the first mate. "Tell them that it is a choice of either life as heroes to the crown of Amandil or death with gold in there hands." "Perhaps" said ELENDUR at length "I could ask the king to grant our lads grate sums of cash and titles in return fore there valiant services in recovering the lost relics of Numenor." ""That is an idea" yammered Elrohir excitedly." "But if my request is denied then I have betrayed my men" gloomily added the captain. "We could have a mutiny on our hands or I should say that I might have a mutiny on my hands." "They love you Elrohir and would probably ask you to take my place as captain." "I would never betray you sir" said the first mate putting on a fake smile that didn't hide his frantic concern and anxiety. "I guess that we should avoid telling them until we reach the island itself" said elrohir after a long pause. "No" said Elendur Flatly. "It will be harder to reject the treasures of the kings when they actually see them on the island of the star" he explained. We will have to tell them tomorrow morning." "That will give them all the right mind set going in to recover the artifacts." The first mate nodded approvingly, saluted his captain, and silently left the room. As the sailor left Elendur collapsed in to his arm chair and sighed. Right before he want to bed he finally murmured to himself ""Well I've done what I've could and hope to do more." "I hope that I have not done ill." And with that he closed his eyes and fell in to a comfortable sleep that he had not experienced since his troubles first came to haunt his mind and burden his spirit. Now the cares of the world were lifted and with oblivion came peace. What ever happened the following day he had done his best.
Chapter Three
The sky was now overcast and the sea mist enshrouded while the ship of Elendur assailed steadily towards there course. For ten minutes the huddled sweaty men of the cabins below welcomed the cool icy air that was welcome to those workers who manned the lower portentous of the vessel. They where waiting there captain anxiously looking each other with worried glances wondering what this could be all about. Had one of them done something regrettably wrong? If so punishment would be swift and perhaps very serious-deadly serious. On this mission discipline would obviously be attended to with closer attention then other past ventures. The cheer of the day before had evaporated when Elrohir ordered the men to report on deck but still allow the men above to continue working as long as they heard there captain's words who's magnitude could not be easily guessed. Time was of maximum importance. Speed was crucial. While the winds blowing fast aided the seaman Elendur would plow ahead until they reached the island continent. If they were on course they should reach the land of there ancestors before the afternoon was past and evening wearing away but chances where that they had slightly strayed during the night from there route and thus might be forced to search fore the isle in the darkness of night. In the shadows and fog not even the moon would be able to illuminate the land mass easily so as you can readily understand all deck hands, captain, and especially the young look out where eager to press ahead as hastily as could be contrived. The silence was at last broken by the footsteps of Elendur and Elrohir who trailed reluctantly behind. From the heart of the vessel they emerged tall and valiant seeming but evidently grave and downcast forlorn figures torn between duty and friendship with there beloved men. Then with no preamble of adjustment to this earnestly gloomy tone the captain explained the crew's predicament. He told them of how Gandalf seemed to point towards there being a potential peril of Iluvitar's wrath if anyone took any treasure of the isle out of personal gain greed rather then to help protect and restore the knowledge of the past and thus how there hopes of gaining wealth where now dashed. To all men who stood at attention or manned the vessel in that hour all hopes faded in to disappointment. Some younger lads cried out in outrage and demanded that there be retribution, restitution, and justice unobstructed by the ways of wizards or the incalculable might of Eru the One. Yet at last all succumbed to the dismal fact that there desires and payments that had previously appeared just with in reach where now snatched away by fate. All knew that mutiny was useless. If they rebelled the gold would cost them there lives just like Elrohir surmised the evening before speaking to Elendur. Resistance was vain, hoping was vain, all toiling was currently meaningless. Only one ray of salvation could be spotted amidst the darkness of the day. Elendur's promise to attempt to gain payments fore all of them enough to allow them to spend weeks perhaps with there families but that was a highly improbable prospect and most sailors older and more experienced knew that this was most likely impossible. With down turned heads and spirits laden with cares more burdensome then before the crew traveled on and on and on until the afternoon had passed and as gloomily anticipated no island continent appeared on the gray horizon. Then night came speedily and evening when the moon had risen and was now waning once again only to be covered up by the clouds still no isle materialized. Minutes turned in to strenuous hours and hours acuminated gradually until the shadows of night were almost driven away but still grumpy and agitated crew members manned the vessel not caring any more if they saw land or not knowing that hoping was futile dreaming of a brighter future only a phantom of what could have been. Then out of the still foggy gloom emerged a hulking shape monumentally blacker then the shadows on witch it was set growing steadily clearer and vivid as it drew nearer and the twinkling light in the east grew more radiant. Could it be? Then just as the fiery brilliance of the morning sun rose above the horizon the mist departed, the darkness faded, and there before there eyes was a majestic star shaped continent vast beyond imagining infested with towers and hill tops once so fare and beautiful. Above all rose the imposing form of the Menil Tarma the mountain hollowed to Eru and its peek glimmered in the rising sun of dawn to crown the ruins at its feet. There before there eyes was Numenor now barren , a wasteland of sand and hard rock besides the Menil Tarma, but there it was nevertheless. At the cite of that wondrous isle all hearts and minds where uplifted and the shadows of the day had finally vanished. All men cheered regardless of there troubles feeling the child in them yearning naively for lost mysterious places long gone long lost. Elrohir fell flat on his face with excitement and the young look out stood cheering fore awhile but then fell to standing awe stricken inspired by the disheveled but still glorious sight that met his gaze. With out understanding then all eyes were pried from the isle and to Elendur and what all the crew saw touched there hearts more then the amazing land mass they had just stood mesmerized to. The Tall unbowed captain once so strong and wise now crouched slumped against the mast openly weeping the clear tears rolling freely down his cheeks and wetting his shirt. All sounds of joy abruptly ceased and at last words hardly audible but clearly evident where heard moaning from the sailor's mouth. "Eru bless my men." "Give them peace and bliss fore even this island no matter how awe inspiring to behold is nothing in comparison with my men's devotion." Then turning sterner of face he realized suddenly that his crew where staring directly at him and he blushed feeling overwhelmed by his carelessness but in response all seaman stood to attention and saluted there captain crying aloud "Hail Elendur master of shipwrights and all sailors of our generation." After a moment's pause the captain rising calmer now and relieved said simply looking first to the heavens and then to his crew "Thank you." Then elrohir who had also recovered from shock commanded ""Drop anchor" with out addressing his friend and boss but when on speaking afterwards receiving nods from all the men standing near by. ""We rest until noon and then set foot on the shores of our ancient ancestor's homeland." "You have done your duty thus far well." "Now harden yourselves for the next stage of our expedition." After this short rest long longed for the crew sailed slowly and cautiously to the bay of Andunia fearing that there ship might be lost on some shoal or underwater ridge that was raised by Eru to prevent trespassers to draw too close to the isle but no such barrier could be found. When they dropped anchor in the bay there anxieties where replaced by wonder and awe once again fore the buildings of the Numenorians though worn with care on this end of the isle where intact. Many of the buildings the magnificent structures elsewhere had clearly been tossed down by the might of nature's furry but hear the dwelling places where left standing either by some craft of the makers the craftsman of the lords of Andunia or grace of the lords of the west or the One. After all the lords of Andunia such as Amandil father of Elendil of whom king Amandil lord of the Gondorians was afterwards named where always among the faithful who rejected the might of Sauron and where ridiculed but eventually saved from disaster and death from there unstained hearts. No bones or petrified remains of the inhabitance where there to be seen. They had all dissolved in the depths of the sea long ago save the loathsome bones of . . . well we shall get to that later. The buildings on the dock had to be searched fore artifacts that was all to clear. The first structure that appeared to hold items of enormous importance was a wide and very tall building that wasn't evidently the most impressive or important structure on the bay but most intact. The doors of the stone structure where locked but a side entrance witch bore no door provided the best way of entering the complex. There was something about this building that seemed beckon the sailors and especially Elendur although the sensation was unexplainable. It was like invisible hands where dragging him against his will towards the dark gaping entrance way. Slowly and carefully the host of sailors entered the superstructure hardly glancing back at all just as Elendur had entered the stronghold of the servants of Sauron on the lonely island. The floor was of an ornate tile baring rich carvings of men and of runes and of horses. Similar carvings where engraved in to the walls on either side. Scenes of men baring swords, knives, clubs, and bows, against a determent army of goblins and men and . . . dragons? The likeness of Glaurung and other worms of the brood of the beasts of Morgoth could be clearly pictured. "It's a pictogram of the wars the Edain the fathers of men made with the elves against the dark lord of Angband" pronounced Elrohir a little shocked but also intrigued. "See" he said again suppressing a smile pointing to another carving. "There is Hurin fighting Orcs with his enemy's ax." The engraving of a mighty warrior baring a loft an imposing battle ax over head surrounded by limp dead corpses could be scene next to an inscription in runes bellow on a bronze plaque. "What do those runes say" asked a younger lad lagging behind pointing to the small black. "Day shall come again" replied Elendur intently gazing at the picture of Hurin an odd glimmer in his eyes. "It was the warrior's war cry before he was taken captive by the enemy and cursed by the Dark Lord along with all his kin." "Its time to move on" promptly interrupted Elrohir grabbing his captain by the shoulder and gently but forcefully guiding him towards the hall way ahead. Reluctantly still staring at the carving of Hurin as he and his companions made ready to leave the room, Elendur stopped dead in his tracks and opened his mouth wide as though struck by grate amazement. Seeing that there master was kept at bay by something of enormous importance the company who had just taken there next couple of steps halted and looked in the direction to witch there captain now look upon. There in an out of the way corner was another passage way smaller then any other that the sailor's had thus far spotted. It was blocked by a small thin but monumentally heavy door built on it was carved the elegant form of a tall lord cloaked and armed fore war baring a lofty helm with the symbol of the white tree. On the door was written this signal but crucial word beyond all hope. "Library." Behind that door could be hidden the lore of princes and herb masters who's knowledge had long since faded in to the twilight never to return to light save fore these precious weeks of reemergence . All the books of the library of Andunia could aid the Gondorians healers and captains of war and of the wide waters fore thousands of years and perhaps guide all peoples of the crown to a new golden age long longed fore. There was only one problem. The door was blocked. Cursing realizing this Elendur threw his entire weight on the stone surface of the entrance barrier although he knew that it would prove fruitless . To his side leapt many of the sailors besides but Elrohir and a few of the others stood back knowing that all efforts to open that stone door with out a key where futile and possibly dangerous. After many of the men where tossed senseless upon the floor and Elendur was left in a similar situation Elrohir finally drew up the courage to speak up. "Its useless unless we search the rest of the building." "We need to find another entrance or the key and that is likely farther upstairs or in another hall." "Even if we don't find anything hear we can still reach Armenilos where we can find other books and scrolls of lore even more important then your collection hear or in the stronghold of the black Numenorians witch Mithrandir knew full well." "Turn aside turn from this deadly and exhausting place and gather your wits captain of captains." "Better advise none could give." Rising to his feet the aching man nodded and ordered all others too listen to his first mate's wise council. The faces of the would be door breakers where drenched with sweat and where evidently slower as they all walked down the more narrow hall way that lead thence to another wider room in witch was set not only a staircase as expected but also two other doors locked as well. Seeing no other option or opportunity left seize the sailors decided to climb the high staircase witch wound thrice as high as the tower of that nameless strong fortress on the isle of the black Numenorians who's descendants had attacked Elendur and his faithful band of brothers who themselves where descendent of the faithful of the island of the star. The war between the kinsman and the faithful was still going on years and years after the island of there peoples had sunk and now risen once again. Still higher and higher the stairs rose and still higher the sailors climbed. "If this is smaller then those other structures then imagine what it would have been like to climb the staircases of those bastions" gasped elrohir looking red faced at his rag tag exhausted fellow crew members ready to give up. Bent on recovering what ever secrets this mysterious building held the captain and company held to there mission fore quite some time until they reached a landing before the last dozen steps. In a wall to there right was set a window round like that of a port hole on a vessel but twice as large. "Its amazing that the glass of this window didn't shatter in the downfall" commented Elendur peering threw the perfectly transparent glass being farthest ahead of the host behind. With out warning he turned very rigid and fore a moment it seemed like he would fall over with fear or excitement witch none could tell. Not knowing what was vexing his captain Elrohir came to his friend's side and also peered threw the window and discovered the truth. In the bay next to there ship was now docked a long boat crowded with armored men prepared fore hand to hand combat. There sworn foes had scene them from afar and had followed them but do to the mist had hid there movements and where likely but the vanguard of a larger host anchored farther out at sea awaiting the news of there scouting party who's first purpose was to wipe out there rivals. Why They hadn't left men aboard there ship to guard there vessel elrohir could not say. They originally intended board there vessel only once again and gather carts and packs to hold all there artifacts they came across. They surely couldn't do that now. Surprisingly after one swift search of there vessel, the foes did not sink her but left her alone unguarded. They where hear not fore the ship quite yet they would return with men to plunder later. Now was the time to kill. Now was the time to wipe out all advisories with the sword. No prisoners,, no burdens besides the gold and precious treasures of the isle to bare back on there watery path back to the south. The sooner the Gondorians where slain the better. ""I thought that they where stranded out at sea" grumbled Elrohir. "They apparently have friends" murmured Elendur. "Lots of friends and lots of ships." "You don't mean" moaned elrohir stammering realizing the meaning of his captain's words. "Yes" bluntly said Elendur in an abrupt monotone that revealed the urgency of the situation. "We are dealing with an entire fleet of vessels." "Why didn't Gandalf tell you of this" cried elrohir miserably . "Because this information would have kept us from our appointed task" replied Elendur commandingly. "We where meant to not only rescue the artifacts and the knowledge of Numenor but also to protect them." "Our mission is now more clear." "They will see our tracks that lead to this building and in this narrow corridor we will outlast them all." A fire was now in the captain's eyes the desire fore bloodshed and hard fighting. Now he could prove himself. Now he would make his enemies remember his name. With a flick of his wrist he drew his sword and commanded his men to do likewise. In split seconds blades sharp and bright in that dark place glittered together in unison hungry fore blood like there masters. Bows where useless in such a narrow place or so they thought wrongly as I will elaborate upon shortly but luckily had taken many blades from there enemies bodies after the last raid and to there surprise they had found that they had been of there own folk's craftsmanship and not that of the black numenorians. These blades likely where stolen long ago in some distant conflict between the black tower and the white. All the sailors had heard the conversation of there leaders and comrades and knew that there lives where in peril. Action was called fore and they where ready to answer the cry of war the summons to prepare themselves fore the struggle at hand. Elendur's call to arms would be heeded. The minutes flew past and still no sign of there foe could be hear or seen out the round window. The armored fools where now already in the building but wary. How close where they? Then came at last the clinking of steel and the murmur of countless voices bellow in some hall or passage way. The drawn blades of the Gondorians where stiff in there hands with sudden anger and the fire of war mongers was soon ignited in to a blaze that could have reduced the forests of Arda to black ash. The clank of steel and voices drew closer ever closer an open threat a warning that conflict was now very near. The footsteps of the host where louder and more rapid as the foes climbed swiftly up the stairs. The lord of the army of those cruel men must have realized that his opponent lay in weight somewhere upstairs or was busy in some upper chamber ignorant of the jaws that where steadily closing sooner then anticipated on the helpless prey. But Elendur and Elrohir and all there allies where far from helpless. They where just as prepared to meet the black tide of armored fools as there enemies. The contest of iron wills at last erupted in to open battle. Out of the gloom appeared the vanguard of the army eyes peering hatefully up at them threw the darkness. The light of the window was only enough to illuminate the first few sailors but from the tracks in the soil damp and altogether muddy from being underwater fore years unnumbered below they knew that there foes where grater then what met the eye. Because the corridor was so small and narrow contrary to the belief of both sides arrows would have been very deadly since bow shots would have been at point blank range but why the host of the black Numenorians a professional army didn't know this is still a matter of much debate among the lore masters. Soon both sides realized this mistake and they cursed there ill fortune fore not bringing with them bows from there ships but no matter blades would serve the deadly purpose. Only three men could walk abreast up that staircase and so the fight became more of a contest among single warriors at a time then a full scale battle of many men crashing against many men. When one armed lord fell another warrior soon took his place only to fall like his forerunner. With in twenty minutes or so the lore masters say the staircase of that nameless building was drenched with the blood of both sides. Some fools tripped and slid down to find there end at the hand of a surprised foe or against hard stone more unyielding then adamant. Rather then standing back after several of his sailors where viciously cut down, Elendur fought among his men wielding his sword two handed slaying armored black Numenorians with relative ease. To his side leapt Elrohir face scarlet with wrath his eyes blazing menacingly at the foes that came poring up the stares made visible when the vanguard of there host was at last destroyed only to be replaced by another. The battle was a gruesome business. Men where fighting hand to hand in a place too narrow too bunched up together. A swing of Elrohir’s' sword nearly sliced off one of his comrade's arms while blocking another strike from a squat evil looking man wearing a black robe under his armor. The enemy then extracted a wicked looking knife from his belt and attempted to plunge it in to the first mate of Elendur but elrohir barely knocked it aside with the hilt of his sword while the blade of his weapon held the foe's sword at bay. The two men stared back at one another appreciating there fighting skill and quick reflexes and then clashed together again in a frenzy of movement. Somehow elrohir managed to knock his enemy's sword out of his hand and slam him over the head with the flat side of his blade. The black cloaked soldier crumpled to the cold stone floor eyes still burning fearlessly at his opponent. Just as the dazed fool tried to rise up and assail his would be killer one of his comrades simply ran over him and threw a dagger at Elrohir's head. Ducking in time the first mate dodged to one side and dug his own knife in to the attacker's leg while swinging his sword around to dispatch the foe once and fore all. However with one clever and swift movement of the black Numenorian's blade the enemy's sword stretched out and not only blocked the stroke but also extended the point of his weapon in to Elrohir’s shoulder. Deep in to the first mate's flesh it bore sinking threw his skin and innards like a kitchen knife would dive right threw butter. The cry of the desperate sailor could be heard by his fellow Gondorians and in seconds a set of arms came down from the heavens and brought a broad blade down upon the exposed neck of the black Numenorian. The enemies head came spinning off and fell on the helm of another black Numenorian with a loud crack. That unhappy soldier soon toppled over like his companions before him only to be trampled to death by another eager warrior just like the attacker Elrohir faced a minute prier to his unwelcome uncomfortable encounter with the now headless man lying at his feet. Some battles just can't be simple thought the first mate wrenching his enemy's blade out of his body with a sickening grimace. As he turned to call fore medical assistance fore he was loosing blood fast, he was knocked over the head by a falling body and knew no more.
Chapter Four
When the sailor awoke he was next to a warm camp fire lying on a rugged paved road. The stares where in the sky and men where carrying planks of wood to feed the ravenous flames. With amusement he discovered that many of these planks resembled the red wood of the enemy vessel he and Elendur had spotted out the window in the odd stone building at the bay side. They had won. Recognizing a few kindly faces that he readily knew he fell back in to a deep slumber fore quite some time and then was rudely shaken by two men one of witch might have been the look out and he was carried fore a long while by cart before being carefully dropped around perhaps a mile away. The chill air had a sea tang to it a salty aroma that was all to familiar to the sailor. Where they heading back to the ship. Yes they where but why? Then all went dark again and he was troubled by dreams of screaming men with sharp cruel swords running towards . . . . and then reality intervened once again. This time he was on a rough wooden bed that he knew to be his own. The waves where rocking the vessel this way and that leaving the weakened first mate even more drowsy and a tad sicker then before. At last the familiar figure of Elendur and two other sailors could be seen walking threw a doorway only a few feet away. The expression on there faces was a mixture of weariness and anxiety. The captain looked as though he had been knocked out as well despite the fact that no bruises or marks where to be spotted on his head. The trio walked a few paces and then sat carefully almost deliberately cautiously at Elrohir's bed side. None of the men dared speak until the first mate broke the silence with a simple question. "We won?" The sailor's voice was horse and almost an inaudible grunt in the stuffy air bellow deck. He was pain. When he had woken he hadn't felt the ripples of torturous agony that flowed threw his limbs but the aching was now all too clear now. Shaking with frustration and anguish the sailor turned and tossed in bed while the worried voice of Elendur recounted the final moments of the battle in excruciating detail. Not all of that remarkable story can now hear be told but it is said that once the men of Gondor learned that there second in command had been beaten to a pulp they became enraged with wrath grater then before if that can be imagined . There onslaught was so terrible that eventually suffering many losses they murdered every soldier who had dared smite there friends in arms. Elrohir had been scene early in the battle and thus rescued once had fainted from being further trampled by his foes. In that way was the first mate's life saved and upon finding his limp body the battle cry fore justice witch acted as the key to victory achieved. After all the bodies had been gathered on a paved road not so far away from the actual battle in the building and burned in an enormous fire witch had been made possible by the wood of the soldier's own vessel, in the distance many black sailed war ships could be vividly descried threw the mist. They had company again. Rather then facing the foes in the bay of Andunia Elendur explained that they decided to board there ship and sail around the island to a quiet bay witch did not appear on the scroll but was mentioned in the journal of the kingsman. "When we found the bay we saw that several black ships of smaller size then our own where anchored there and so we looked fore another inlet or place where harborage was possible" the captain went on saying. "But we also needed to find a path once we landed that will take us to Armenilos" interrupted one of the other sailors bobbing up and down on his chair like an absurd wind up toy but not with excitement but with concern seeing that his comrade Elrohir was still in considerable pain. The first mate's body had been scared fore life by cuts, scrapes, and countless bruises received by a man who tripped over the mate's body and another who ran over the huddled mass of living and dead men. That is why I have said that the sailor's life was saved from being trampled any further fore he was trampled by these unhappy fools before he was rescued but he did fair better then other Gondorians who where carried out of the fray long after being seriously injured. "At last we determined to locate another bay close to Andunia but not so close as to attract the attention of our enemies" said Elendur now giving both his companions a glance that practically informed them that he did not wish to be interrupted. He alone would tell this tale and now it was drawing towards its close. The would be bard and captain when on and on about how they looked and escaped fandom black sailed vessels that emerged out of the fog again and again until at last or so he said they discovered another hidden dock small and insignificant in size at the very point where one of the island's star point's merged with the center of the continent and it was at least thirty miles distant from the bay of Andunia and even connected with the same paved road that they had briefly stopped on out side the building witch apparently continued fore miles upon miles until it reached Armenilos where treasures still lay in wait. "It's a grievous loss that we didn't get to explore the library of that strange building" finished Elendur but promptly added "But I deem grater discoveries wait our eyes at Armenilos." After this long and wearisome conversation the first mate slept fore some time. His mind passed to his little home in Ithillian not so far from where Mablung the hero of the crown lived in the days of Elessar's son Eldarian. He thought of his wife and two sons who dwelled there patiently waiting his return from sea the children having never met there father. After this journey was over he would retire from venturing on the sea. He was too far from those persons who met most to him. The sailor could picture the carpeted floors of his tiny home, the smell of his wife's perfume, the, the fragrance of the flowers of Ithillian in spring, and the beauty of the snow of that land glittering shining brilliantly in Winter's icy clutches so dreaded hear out at sea hear amidst the crashing friendless waves. He had Elendur as a guide and companion along with the crew fore company but it was no longer the ocean that drew his heart to one central point but his family far away. Why had he become a sailor? Why did he travel so far from home to the shipwrights of the kings to outdo his heroes of old knowledgeable in the ways of the wide oceans? Who needed such perilous and foolish hobbies? But deep in his heart Elrohir knew that he once needed to make this dream a reality. He knew somewhere remote butt still evident that he had once loved the sea as he loved his wife and respected his friend and captain. But things had changed. as the fiery joys of the past where now drownd out by the comforts that he could have experienced if he had stayed at home thoughts of being with his wife maybes and what ifs that where vague shadows of sanity in the hostile busyness of shipwrights, of sailors of renown. Elendur would spend out his days loving the ocean and sailing on its serfice but he Elrohir was tired of his occupation, tired of the sea, and eager fore the warm embrace of his loved ones fore had loved ones where as the captain had only the wide waters and his close friends. The next day Elendur came to his first mate and said "I am planning on leaving fore Armenilos today my friend." "I have long hoped that we will travel together on this expedition but you are ill and my chances of recovering the artifacts before Iluvitar reclaims the isle fore the sea is gradually slipping away every minute." "I doubt not that the black sailed ships spotted at dawn that the lads saw are not apart of a larger force bent on the same purpose." was "If any of the sailors of the black fleet take anything fore them selves while we are traveling then it is likely that Iluvitar will unleash his wrath and we will be undone." "Or perhaps" said Elrohir contemplating the mind of his enemies "They are not interested in what scraps of gold they can find on the way to Armenilos but the treasury of the kings in the capital city." "They want nothing less then the mother lode and they are biding there time rushing fore the grand prize not knowing that they will have now time to bask in there wealth after the fact." "They think that the isle is going to stand fore a longer period of time or fore ever and do not recon the consequences of there actions or so I guess." Looking affectionately and admiringly at the first mate Elendur said at length "Your right." "They are making ready to plunder the treasury first and launch a full scale rape of the entire island with there fleet." "First will land the main party and afterwards the free fore all." "Well they won't get too far that's fore sure." That same fire of determination was burning in the captain's eyes a chance to fulfill his task his holy quest. "You have come to tell me that I can not come and I respect that decision" Elrohir blurted regretting his bluntness but added swiftly "but is there anything you wish of me while you are gone?" "Yes" replied Elendur nodding rapidly molding over some hidden thought about to be revealed. "I am going to leave my ship under your command." "If anything happens to me you will be in charge of those men too injured to come with us now but I deem who will be ready to leave this isle when the time comes." "Are you up fore the task?" "Yes" smiled the first mate blushing with embarrassment. "You can count on me."
Chapter Five
The Dominion of Man
Book Two
The Holy Quest
By john Evans
Author’s Note
The composition of this story was a strenuous task and at the end of it I felt that I was unable to produce the appendices or introduction I would have otherwise made. Fore this reason I will probably create a volume of analysis of this story in the future but for now this is what you have got. Understand that this story may be harder to read with out reading volume one in this series but perhaps a small summery of events in the previous book shall be added later when I have a chance to add an introduction and those appendices but once again the prospect of more writing is still vague and distant regarding this particular book. Despite my difficulty in writing this story I feel it is superior to volume one “The Estari of Mordor” ” in many respects since the plot line ties back to the island of Numenor a topic of interest for any fan of Tolkien’s works found in the Silmarillion. I wish you my readers the very best and the up most satisfaction in finishing this wondrous extension to Tolkien’s secondary world of Middle Earth. Enjoy
The Holy Quest
When lands of bliss were granted
We basked in our delight
We learned the craft of elven lore masters
And lived long fruitful lives
But when the long years passed us by
And we mortals did die
We dared to wish eternal life that only the Eldar and Valar possess
The band was set against us
The blessed realm so close but all to remote
With avarice and spite we scorned the Valar
And assailed the immortal shores of Valenor
Grate was the wrath of our creator
And our desires were shunned and bliss ruined
At last the green wave mounting
Crushed our island continent Numenor to the depths
So hearken eager lords
And learn this my lesson well
For if one dares to cheat our god
Then death, destruction, and bleak sorrow shall surely befall.
Thus ended the journal of Sorosto of the stronghold of the Black Numonorians off the coasts of Arda repenting of his brethren's war against the Valar and his help in the downfall of his beloved home land upon the hour of his death
The sea’s surface was rising and falling tumultuously tossing the tiny Gondorian vessel here and there like a wooden model of a ship rather then an actual fully manned vessel of the crown. Rain clouds far overhead had released there contents upon the helpless ship and lightning struck the vessel's tall mast twice already scorching the wooden flimsy rising mast and burning the sails leaving a pitiful blackened rag that could not catch the blustering wind. All hands bellow deck where busy patching gaps in the rickety structure of the boat and while the captain was very knowledgeable of sea craft he could do nothing to save himself or his crew. Elendur he was named and it is said in the annals of the south that he was as learned as an elf in sailing and far more apt to dare the perils of the ocean compared to his fellow immortal counterparts. But this was not born of recklessness alone but rather an innate desire to find new lands or shores yet unexplored. Like the shipwright of Numenor Eldarian he was bound to the sea by an unfathomable obsession that never waned upon land but rather grew confined to the soil of his home in the busy city of Minas Anor following the fourth king’s rise to power like Aragorn who took the title of lord of all the lands of the Dunidain. The fact that Elendur could do nothing to save his men or himself was a heavy blow. All the smaller vessels intended to evacuate the crew were lost in the waves when the ship turned on its side fore over a minute before the men of the vessel could drag her out of her doomed position and back on what seemed to be the right track but then grate winds drove them miles and miles off course. Nobody could tell were they now were. They were lost in a vast ocean far from hope far from aid and it seemed to them that death was probably near to them all. The shadows of night where passing and the sun was rising illuminating the countless mountainous waves that swarmed both near and far all seeming to converge on the ship. As one enormous wave slammed furiously against the vessel's port side a horrible cracking noise terrible to listen to could clearly be heard. Then the ship began to waver a little in the water and at last started to sink rapidly turning swiftly to one side. Hurrying feet could be heard bellow deck running upstairs to try and meet with there captain fore the last time knowing that this was now the hour of there deaths and no force of man or angelic Vala could deliver them from this nightmare. Just as one ragged figure of a man emerged from the heart of the ship the vessel was almost completely turned on its side and was plunging in to the depths now not so far away. As the icy water surrounded Elendur colder then the snow of the Misty Mountains of the North more breath taking then the chill pools of his home were he once swam in his youth but just as he believed that salvation was out of reach he spotted threw the murky water a peace of the wooden deck falling off and he clung to it with all his might. Pulling himself on to this make shift raft of sorts the captain avoided sinking to the bottom with his crew and kept his freezing body above the water line fore a few seconds before being tossed by a towering green wave again. How Elendur clung to that flat plank of wood I can not say but despite all the conditions he found the strength to do so fore hours upon hours until the sun had road up the sky and dawn had past to high noon. The drenched man's cloak and other outer seafaring attire of the king's house was now lost leaving only regular soft fitting and flimsy common clothing behind that a cabin boy could have worn. Out hear amidst the tumults of the ocean all men were equal regardless of status or wealth. Elendur knew that all too well but now only survival was on his mind. He scanned the horizon fore approaching ships far off shore on some other mission of exploration or commercial fishing but few boats sailed this far form the shores of Middle earth. Then something dark and wider then any vessel appeared out of the mist and poring rain. It was land. It was not too far away but it would take all the power in the sailor's limbs to at last walk on that mysterious isle or what ever land mass it was. Kicking hard but not letting go of the wooden plank the captain struggled against the current. Wave upon crashing wave blocked his progress but despite all the odds he fought on. It was do or die. As Elendur grew even closer he could clearly see that it was an island with many green trees and at its western end was set a large stone structure very tall with a lofty tower who's pinnacle had only one large round window that once could have acted as a light house. Focusing on the tower the sailor was suddenly struck with an overwhelming curiosity and he kicked harder and faster. Closer and closer the island loomed up until after much hardship and agonizing labor the toil of witch can not easily be compared with other trials of the past he stepped foot on the sandy beach a half a mile distant from the fortress and ancient whether beaten tower. Walking a little ways further after much well earned rest Elendur found an old path overgrown with weeds and thick under brush that had not been cleared fore many a long year. Jagged stones appeared on either side at times when approaching the mysterious structure and on those stones at times were some times seen runes too weathered to make out. If men once lived hear they were long gone the captain thought miserably but still trudged on driven by the building beyond. Who lived there and why was beside the point to Elendur. It was just a vague but unshakable sensation that drew him closer to the towered fortress now appearing not as large as it had from far away seeming majestic and glorious on the shores of that tiny island. The path went on like a serpent until at last the grate gate of the fortress loomed up half open as though beckoning Elendur to step inside ominously. Should I go further he thought now fore the first time wondering if what he was doing was proper or altogether dangerous but now sensing the curiosity creeping over him and clouding his judgment he went on with hardly a glance behind in to the darkness of the chambers and halls with in. The first lonesome room that met his gaze was a narrow walk way with openings with out doors on either side gaping endless pits of unfathomable depths that held sinister secrets and lost stories witch had thus far not been revealed. Elendur then stumbled in to a wide council chamber in the middle of witch rose an immense staircase and but a few yards away from its foot what appeared to be the ruins of a long round table barely standing on only two out of the original four legs it once bore. The captain found it strange that no bones or corpses were seen on the floors but it seemed that the people who dwelt hear had left long ago before this stronghold was overcome not by an invading army but by the forces of nature. The sounds of the sailor's footsteps was like noisome drums in the bleak silence. At times he thought he heard some one whispering behind him some name but turned around to find no on there. Disturbed but still driven he went on. The captain had decided to climb up the stare case and by all the Valar and the one to whom all served he was going to find that lofty room high above the world he would stand at the crown of the tower and gaze at the sea. Then he would think of rescue but fore now the mystery of this place burned his objectives down to this clear set desire that needed to be savored at once or left to gnaw his mind until madness overcame him. The stares creaked under his heavy trot and the captain was worried fore a moment that the entire staircase might collapse but nevertheless he continued to ascend with out difficulty or hindrance until he reached the stare's top were he found after a brief landing a locked door on witch no runes were set. Elendur banged on the hard wooden surface of the wooden barrier with all his body and despite the many bruises his broad side received and arms the door would not budge but remained transfixed as though turned to locked by spells of magic. Searching fore a key some ware on some ledge by a near by window and looking at the floor he noticed that the dust of the landing on witch he now stood had been cleared and washed away as though polished. Something wasn't right. At last overcome by failure and believing his curiosity drowned by reality the captain sat down at the doorstep and fell to thinking of his task of escape and the various implications that that one goal held in such an isolated place. He then unwillingly felt an unshakable drowsiness come over him and so the sailor slept undisturbed fore hours and hours until at last he was awaken by a sound far below in some chamber close to the gate. Waking startled to find that it was night once again he heard the noise again. It was the unmistakable sound of foot steps. Some one was now climbing up the stares at a rapid pace. The person's strides were rapid and unceasing growing louder and louder. Shaking with uncontrollable fright that could not easily be explained Elendur was left transfixed in his crouching hiding place and unable to meet the invading noises with calm resolute retaliation. He could only watch and wait. From the shadow of the stare case not so far away that faded in to the darkness a tall shape now could be seen man shaped but still indiscernible to be friend or foe. The shadowy form of the figure grew larger and larger until at last it stood only a few yards away. Now the person's features could clearly be made out. The individual was an old man or so he appeared and in his hand be bore a wooden staff. He had a white beard and a set of eyes full of understanding and memory. Then those eyes locked gaze with the captain and the old man smiled and climbed vigorously to the very top of the stares and walked to the sailor's side. Grabbing the captain's army thus bringing Elendur to his feet he asked politely as though they had just met on the street "Who are you sir?" The surprised mariner replied "I am Elendur a captain of a ship of Gondor in the service of king Amandil." "my vessel was lost and I by my strength and courage found this island and its grand abandoned stronghold this fortress and desired to reach its pinnacle's top most chamber for there I believed I would discover its secrets." "It was very odd a curiosity nagged me is still drawing me to this room but the door is locked." "I can help there" the old man said lifting his staff. With a inaudible word the door flung open revealing an office full of papers and books. On a table next to a chair a large iron key was laid and beside it a scroll and one grate large book thick and open to a particular page. Giving the old man a thankful and stunned look of respect and dignity Elendur walked to the table and stared at the open page seeing runes that he couldn't quite make out in the gloom. He didn't need to. The wondrous old man promptly snatched the book from his trembling hands and brought it to the round window before the desk were the light of the waning moon glimmered threw the glass. It was now the first time that the captain noticed that before the window hung a large contraption clearly meant to shine light threw the window. This tower was indeed a light house. The old man began to read in a voice now more kingly and refined then before. This is what he read. "We came hear on the orders of our high king to gain wealth from the local populous to help finance the war." "We now need to return." "The king needs us to help man the ships of his armada." "We are to assail the undying lands and leave this place." "The Valar shall pay for not granting us our immortality." Now turning around to find that Elendur looked puzzled he asked gently "Does this make any sense to you?" "No sir not at all" replied the sailor. "Think about it then for a moment" said the old man. "This is an unknown dwelling place designed to suppress its inhabitance." "The owners of this place clearly wanted to return home there to man the fleet of a mighty overlord seeking to assail the Valar." "You don't mean" gasped the mariner turning deathly pale suddenly putting the pieces of the puzzle together in his mind. "You can't mean that were talking about . . .was "Yes" grinned the old man looking pleased. "I am talking about Numenor." "The island gifted to the warriors of old who fought against the dark lord of the north with the elves." "After thousands of years they became corrupt under the sway of there new friend Sauron and resolved to attack the Valar in the West and so they were destroyed utterly leaving there island in ruins." "A small group of persons faithful to the Valar escaped and as you know they set up the kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor in Middle Earth." "It is history that you obviously have been taught before." "I and my people were taught about the island of our ancestors and its downfall." "When Sauron came to the island he rose from prisoner to high priest and many men worshipped Morgoth." "In those days our fathers of old were persecuted for rejecting Sauron and the worship of the darkness." "Evil men out of Numenor came to Middle Earth and built strongholds like this one but all of them were lost or so I deemed." "All of them" said the old man "Save this one." "This island on witch we sand was once apart of the main land but the one Eru Iluvitar removed this fortress and the lands about it to farther out at sea until the time was ripe for man to find it again." "I bring you Elendur a message from Manwe Sulimo high king of the Valar." "He informs you wisest of all mariners since Earendil that Numenor has been raised from the depths of the sea by Eru for only three weeks so that you and your people can assemble an expeditionary force to remove all the records of healing and other arts long lost to your own lands were they can be used for the benefit of your peoples." "You have been selected to lead this expedition by Iluvitar himself." "ME" cried out Elendur trembling with amazement and excitement at the same time. Such an honor had never been bestowed on a man by Iluvitar since the old days. Why was he chosen? The captain did not know but he knew that he shouldn't argue with the will of Eru. Fortune had turned in his favor and he would not scorn it. Also the fact that Numenor had risen was incredible news. The scholars of Minas Anor would be thrilled for years. "What of other artifacts of the lost island" asked Elendur thinking of the other treasures that still lay in Armenilos and Romenna. "Take what you can find as long as it is for the preservation of the past and not out of personal greed or I worn you it will lead to your own undoing" said the old man now leaning on his staff a bit more heavily a tad agitated perhaps. "When am I to set out" hurriedly asked the sailor longing etched across his face. "Do not go home" commanded the bearded wrinkled old stranger clearly thinking hard. "It will take you a week to reach the island, a week to excavate its secrets, and a week to go home." "But I don't know the way and I have now no crew" said Elendur now puzzled once again. "Bless me I nearly forgot" said the old man turning to the table. "Its hear in this book and on this scroll" he said passing the sailor the two artifacts witch the mariner placed reverently in to a pack that dangled from a course leather cord. "Not all of your crew was lost in that storm" said the old man looking in to elendur's eyes again intently. "That storm was the aftermath of the rising of Numenor." "Some men of your crew died of course but a few of them found this same island by the will of the Valar while you slept hear." "I have come on the Valar's behalf fore this time and a road to the blessed realm has been prepared I shall leave soon." "I have also brought with me a smaller vessel that will suit your crew for this voyage." "Use your book, map, and wits and you will return a hero." "Stay too long in Numenor and fall in love with what riches still remain there and try to horde your ship with piled gold and jewels and heirlooms." "That will lead to your undoing." "Come" he commanded nudging Elendur to the door way." "No time to search this room." "Your crew is waiting." Just before they reached the foot of the stares some time later the mariner asked genuinely curious "What is your name dear sir?" The old man halted and slowly turned around. That same familiar smile stretched across his kindly aged face and he replied carefully in a slow low warm gentle monotone "Do you not already know?" "You have heard it before." "You read about me when you were much younger." "Yes you heard of me before." "One day we may meet again but as for now I must leave you for a while." And with that he simply darted off down a long hall and out a side entrance. By the time Elendur had stepped out the gate and saw his new glorious ship he could see another vessel behind floating away in to the distance. As he met up with his friends again one of them asked him ""Did you find out who he was?" "No but I guess" quietly said the captain. "I wonder if he actually might be . . .was "Is that possible." "Could he have returned for this short time." The names of a particular wizard echoed threw his mind like some one had spoken them from a grate distance. Gandalf. Gandalf the white. Mithrandir. The gray pilgrim. Dawn had now come and the shadows of evening had been driven away. Elendur and his companions had a quest. It was time to carry out iluvitar's wishes. All his men knew what they had to do for they too had spoken with the strange old man. All of them were eager to be gone. Numenor the island of the star was waiting.
Chapter One
Second in command First Mate Elrohir watched attentively as his friend and dear captain scanned threw the scroll of the rediscovered ancient Numenorian stronghold. The battered wrinkled worn piece of paper was clearly a map of the route that the mariners of the crown took to return to there island. The book held far more information regarding there mission though that Elrohir knew all to well. Looking over Elendur's shoulder he could see countless maps of not only alternative routes that mariners could take to the island but topographical and political maps of the island itself not to mention a full account of the black numonorians reign over the island and there havens like to the one witch Elendur found. The first Mate nodded appreciatively at his old sea mate and leader. They had ventured on countless expeditions together, had faced the same hardships, and although Elrohir was Elendur's subordinate they treated each other like equals even before there crew and since many of the men felt the same way about there captain and treated him as there fellow sea mate and not an overriding authority when all was calm and not in peril they respected there friend's working partnership. Yet in dire circumstances or when discord arose between the crew at times Elendur knew had to keep his mates in line. He knew that in some tight places the chain of command needed to be upheld and once again because the crew understood this completely they generally respected this as well. Life on the sea was rough and unforgiving. One night you might be lying in bed safe and sound and another you could be battling waves and strong winds. If you weren't interconnected but subservient at times then all hands on deck would sink and never return to port. But in most circumstances the crew was one big happy family and while all regarded Elendur almost like a father they were aloud to treat him as just an ordinary sailor like themselves that is until the call to action drew them back in to the fray and there kindly ally and friend became there strict overlord. It had been four days since there setting forth from the lost stronghold of the Numonorians and no sign of difficulty had a risen yet as a result of poor whether or arguments among the crew but Elrohir had some premonition of dread that continued to creep up his spine when ever he turned to the waters on witch they now road. Something couldn't bee right. He had never been so uneasy and even the kindly face of the captain searching threw his book and map was a little tense. Elendur was feeling it too. It was like a voice nagging them to beware from a remote distance urging them to be cautious to watch there back. But all was fine thus far. The whether was positively lovely. The gentle cool ocean breeze was comforting and the clouds were white and not black with rain. The sun brilliantly burned bright and bold down delightfully upon all the men on deck. The captain had even left his own quarters to read outside to escape the stuffiness of the rooms bellow deck. All of a sudden the look out from the crows nest cried out and swiftly traveled down to the deck to salute his superiors his face contorted in a rigid gesture of discomfort and dismay and . . . fear. There concerns were warranted after all. Now Elendur stood up from his chair and became the stern leader once again asking "What is it sailor?" "Another vessel" stammered the look out biting his lip. "Well what is so dangerous about this one ship" interrupted Elrohir speaking his captain's unspoken thought aloud. ""Well the vessel is obviously not Gondorian but like to those witch were used by the Harad and other cruel men in the service of the black hand of Mordor." "It is headed this way at a grate speed catching the wind but how many knots I can not guess." "In a few seconds you too will be able to see it." "It has black sails and is a much larger vessel." Elrohir and Elendur exchanged worried glances. This was no friendly ship baring tidings from the white city or another exploring vessel of the crown. They were facing old enemies bent on there destruction. Hardly any ships sailed these waters save fore at time those of Gondor and those previously under the control of crewel men out of the far south still unconquered. Elrohir first broke the tense silence. "Do you think we can out run her mate?" The look out bowed his head and said slowly frustrated and upset. "No sir." "She has the wind at her back and she will be heading this way faster then we can redirect our position to escape her clutches." "We can only face her head on." "We will meet her ship to ship" pronounced Elendur rising taller then before and looking at the shadowy speck of the vessel grow larger and larger in the distance until its black sails billowing in the blustering wind that had picked up in the last couple of minutes were evidently visible. Then Elrohir asked the captain calmly not betraying his unshakable terror "Should I man all hands on deck with arms sir?" "Yes do so at once" came the stern voice of Elendur drawing his sword and flinging it about over head in a threatening gesture before temporarily sheathing it again until the time was ripe for battle. "You sailor" said the captain now turning to the motionless look out. "Go to the man at the weal and tell him to guide this vessel along the enemy's port side, do you understand me?" "Inform him of our peril." Nodding and saluting once again the young lad jogged off barking other commands to his friends to get there weapons spreading the word. They had company. Elrohir could feel the ship moving beneath his feet, see the vessel of there foes draw ever closer, hear the yammer of the men , and could generally sense the presence of some other will besides other then there own massing its hidden strength against them. On the deck of the approaching black sailed vessel stood a row of heavily armored men ready fore a fight with bowman at there backs and swordsman on the very edge of the vessel along side pikeman waiting eagerly to swoop there opponents in to the rushing waters bellow with there weapons. The tinny host of the sailors was armed in a like matter save fore the fact that they had no armor but plenty more bowman fore the men needed such long range weapons to kill animals on strange shores to feed the crew when they made land fall. There were several isles yet unexplored that Elendur originally wished to visit. The men of the enemy vessel were no average southrons but clearly Black Numenorians remnants of the kings men of Numenor hating the faithful to the Valar who escaped the downfall. The Black Numenorians openly worshiped Morgoth and served Sauron as lord king and god but as far as the historians understood they had not played an enormous role in the Sorcerer's War since the enemy of that conflict came out of the East rather then the south. In the south the black Numenorians had there own dwelling places and many allies. The faces of these evil folk were blood thirsty and furious. Just as there captain a tall dark haired man with a lofty helm was about to give the order to fire arrows and begin the assault, Elendur stopped him in his tracks with a look that would have made a mountain troll run fore his life. In a commanding monotone the Gondorian captain said ""In the name of king Amandil descendent of Elessar lay down your arms and depart at once to your homes in the South and leave my crew to its mission." The black Numenorian simply sneered contemptuously and replied in a high raspy voice ""We heard of the resurrection of Numenor and wish to share in the spoils." "A mariner sailing too far from shore got swept up in the storm a few nights back and I found a map passed down fore generations leading to the island continent." "The treasure there is just as much mine as it is yours." "By this right by our blood line we come to destroy your ship and hold you captive and thus rod you of your share of the gold but also to gain renown as heroes back home." "Our king will be pleased to learn that fools like you have been taken so easily to be publicly displayed for torture." "Knowing your fate take what little time you have left to lay down your own arms, come quietly, and perhaps we might just lock you up until the fun will begin in the South." "You all are as good as dead." "I outnumber your tiny little band of sailors three to one." "My men are no ordinary sailors but trained warriors." "I deem your own rag tag bunch of men insignificant in comparison." "IN that" said Elendur angrily face scarlet "You are mistaken." ""Are you offering death now or death later or worse thralldom." "We shall take none and die fighting if need be." "Better to die with a sword or bow in your hands rather then to fall witless and in chains." "I am warning you my fellow captain depart or you and all your men will perish." "My tiny band of friends will give you more trouble then you can handle all at once." "Warriors of the field are no match fore fighting men of the Sea." And with that the captain of the sailors of Gondor raised his hand giving the signal and a burst of arrows struck the enemy before they could retaliate. The pikemen of the foe were over throne and the swordsman met there match indeed soon falling in heaps to feed the sharks bellow in the waters of the ocean deep. Despite the numbers the battle was swiftly evened out by the courage and fighting skill of Elendur's men. A captain couldn't have been more proud to see his men in there glory cutting down foes bent on there total destruction with limited resources. The one obstacle though that the forces of the light had to face was the armor of there opponents. It was thick and well forged. It took the thrusts of a mighty man to breach it. The odds were even now but the struggle still intense. Elrohir flung his sword about cutting of heads merrily fear leaving his face to be replaced by a crazed smile. An arrow nearly missed his head but he hardly noticed it content with engaging surprised opponents who's reflexes were too slow to meet his rapid movements. Hear and there the blade flickered in the sun and then fell to rise once more but this time stained with the red blood of his adversaries. Elendur after slaying a sly foe who tried to kill him from the side turned to find that the one drilling the archers on were and when to fire was none other then the young lad of the crows nest. The young man's smooth face grinning as he deflected an arrow of an enemy with the blade of a short sword that he had grabbed just in time lying at his feet. Each side had fought each other were ever chance or opportunity allowed. Some men of Gondor were on the black Numonorians ship, and some black Numenorians were on the Gondorians ship each armed host reeking havoc and tossing men overboard but it soon became clear that Elendur was gaining the advantage. Standing at the edge of his vessel the captain of the Gondorians strove with the captain of his enemies on his foe's vessel. There swords flashed hear and there but neither blade met there mark fore a long time. Elendur tried to strike his opponent's left arm but was hindered by one last swift movement of his attacker. Then the black Numenorian tried to decapitate the Gondorian, but Elendur pushed the blade aside with his own finally leaving a long scratch along the man's face with his own weapon. Instinctively razing his hand to inspect the wound the black Numenorian failed to block his enemy's grate thrust and with a shriek he fell in to the gap between the ships to his death. Elendur lifted his sword to the skies and shouted a mighty war cry that ring loud and clear in the fresh salty air. All the faces of the Gondorians were turned to there captain and they chanted his name as they slew the leaderless foes. Armored men fell in moments to determined fighters under Amandil's banner and the white tree and seven stars seemed to rejoice flying in a breeze that came out of the west strong. Sounding the retreat the last couple of foes still on the deck of Elendur's ship fled and those still alive on the black Numonorians vessel of the Gondorian host returned to there own boat with wide smiles on there faces. Before any of them could decide whether to ransack the black Numenorian vessel the wind out of the West suddenly blew harder and turned in to a monstrous gale. The mighty wind blew them all away far from there enemies not farther from there destination but actually closer to the island of the star. It was clear that the Valar were on there side. The would reach the island with Iluvitar's blessing.
Chapter Two
The following day the entire crew was in a jolly mood and that evening all the ship mates gathered around the dining table and drank there mead heartily wondering what the ancient ruins of there ancestors home would look like. They would reach the island continent on the seventh day and that evening would have been there fifth night out at sea, on the day after there encounter with the black Numenorian vessel. The only person that night genuinely disturbed was the captain Elendur. He pored over that one book and scroll as though his life depended on it and often muttered to himself names or places that his first mate Elrohir didn't understand. The sailor didn't seep much and hardly ate. He was famished and pale of face and he always seemed to look at things far off and remote. Something was weighing heavily on his mind but what none of the crew could guess, none of the crew wanted to know, except Elrohir. The first mat had thought of many things his friend and boss was worried about but those perils mainly seemed to be not of such grate account as to actually leave this brave valiant and adventurous sailor completely concerned perhaps even all though he was loathed to admit it. . . . possibly afraid.
At last seeing that his captain couldn't go on so stressed and run down, Elrohir came to the captain's chamber after supper and asked Elendur what was the matter. At first the captain tried to shrug it off as just exhaustion from a night with out enough sleep and then the possibility of there being more enemy vessels, but at last he revealed the bottled thoughts of his troubled mind. "The old man I met on the night before we set out came from the Valar." "He informed me that if we took anything out of greed from the island of our ancestors that it would lead to our undoing." "When three weeks are up the land of Numenor will sink again beneath the waves but I'm wondering . . .was "What" blurted the first mate looking sternly at his good friend with eyes that bore obstinately in to his captain's. "I am afraid that it is a possibility" continued Elendur in a low slow voice "That if we take any thing fore ourselves and not for the preservation of the past then Eru Iluvitar might drowned the continent while we are still exploring it before the date the One has set for the second downfall of the land of the star." The shocked look of horror melded with understanding crossed briefly across Elrohir's face but then was replaced by an expression that told the captain that the ship mate was thinking very hard to himself about the deadly matter in grater detail. At last the first mate asked "What of our friends who we just obliterated and left behind?" "If there are more black numenorians out there then they could be making for the island as well and if the reach it while we are still there then . . .was "They will claim the treasures of Numenor fore there own and we will all be dead men" bluntly stated Elendur finishing his friend's thought. Captain and sailor friend and friend stood transfixed to the wooden floor making no noise fore several long strenuous minutes. At last Elrohir broke the silence and simply said staring down at his boots now uncomfortably "The crew needs to know." "We will be there soon and once we reach the shores of . . .was "I know" grumbled the captain restraining his anger reluctantly. "I just haven't figured out how to brake it to them." "They deserve a good salary but you know that the crown won't pay as much as they need." "Then they will have to sail on another expedition and leave there families shortly after returning to port." "Amandil is a good king but his accountants and bankers are as bad as Orcs and while I love the sea I care fore my crew more." "How am I supposed to tell them that all the gold and jewels they will take will now belong to the crown and not there families?" "How am I going to brake it to them that instead of more time with there wives and children perhaps even retirement I offer more hardship?" "Tell them of there peril" answered the first mate. "Tell them that it is a choice of either life as heroes to the crown of Amandil or death with gold in there hands." "Perhaps" said ELENDUR at length "I could ask the king to grant our lads grate sums of cash and titles in return fore there valiant services in recovering the lost relics of Numenor." ""That is an idea" yammered Elrohir excitedly." "But if my request is denied then I have betrayed my men" gloomily added the captain. "We could have a mutiny on our hands or I should say that I might have a mutiny on my hands." "They love you Elrohir and would probably ask you to take my place as captain." "I would never betray you sir" said the first mate putting on a fake smile that didn't hide his frantic concern and anxiety. "I guess that we should avoid telling them until we reach the island itself" said elrohir after a long pause. "No" said Elendur Flatly. "It will be harder to reject the treasures of the kings when they actually see them on the island of the star" he explained. We will have to tell them tomorrow morning." "That will give them all the right mind set going in to recover the artifacts." The first mate nodded approvingly, saluted his captain, and silently left the room. As the sailor left Elendur collapsed in to his arm chair and sighed. Right before he want to bed he finally murmured to himself ""Well I've done what I've could and hope to do more." "I hope that I have not done ill." And with that he closed his eyes and fell in to a comfortable sleep that he had not experienced since his troubles first came to haunt his mind and burden his spirit. Now the cares of the world were lifted and with oblivion came peace. What ever happened the following day he had done his best.
Chapter Three
The sky was now overcast and the sea mist enshrouded while the ship of Elendur assailed steadily towards there course. For ten minutes the huddled sweaty men of the cabins below welcomed the cool icy air that was welcome to those workers who manned the lower portentous of the vessel. They where waiting there captain anxiously looking each other with worried glances wondering what this could be all about. Had one of them done something regrettably wrong? If so punishment would be swift and perhaps very serious-deadly serious. On this mission discipline would obviously be attended to with closer attention then other past ventures. The cheer of the day before had evaporated when Elrohir ordered the men to report on deck but still allow the men above to continue working as long as they heard there captain's words who's magnitude could not be easily guessed. Time was of maximum importance. Speed was crucial. While the winds blowing fast aided the seaman Elendur would plow ahead until they reached the island continent. If they were on course they should reach the land of there ancestors before the afternoon was past and evening wearing away but chances where that they had slightly strayed during the night from there route and thus might be forced to search fore the isle in the darkness of night. In the shadows and fog not even the moon would be able to illuminate the land mass easily so as you can readily understand all deck hands, captain, and especially the young look out where eager to press ahead as hastily as could be contrived. The silence was at last broken by the footsteps of Elendur and Elrohir who trailed reluctantly behind. From the heart of the vessel they emerged tall and valiant seeming but evidently grave and downcast forlorn figures torn between duty and friendship with there beloved men. Then with no preamble of adjustment to this earnestly gloomy tone the captain explained the crew's predicament. He told them of how Gandalf seemed to point towards there being a potential peril of Iluvitar's wrath if anyone took any treasure of the isle out of personal gain greed rather then to help protect and restore the knowledge of the past and thus how there hopes of gaining wealth where now dashed. To all men who stood at attention or manned the vessel in that hour all hopes faded in to disappointment. Some younger lads cried out in outrage and demanded that there be retribution, restitution, and justice unobstructed by the ways of wizards or the incalculable might of Eru the One. Yet at last all succumbed to the dismal fact that there desires and payments that had previously appeared just with in reach where now snatched away by fate. All knew that mutiny was useless. If they rebelled the gold would cost them there lives just like Elrohir surmised the evening before speaking to Elendur. Resistance was vain, hoping was vain, all toiling was currently meaningless. Only one ray of salvation could be spotted amidst the darkness of the day. Elendur's promise to attempt to gain payments fore all of them enough to allow them to spend weeks perhaps with there families but that was a highly improbable prospect and most sailors older and more experienced knew that this was most likely impossible. With down turned heads and spirits laden with cares more burdensome then before the crew traveled on and on and on until the afternoon had passed and as gloomily anticipated no island continent appeared on the gray horizon. Then night came speedily and evening when the moon had risen and was now waning once again only to be covered up by the clouds still no isle materialized. Minutes turned in to strenuous hours and hours acuminated gradually until the shadows of night were almost driven away but still grumpy and agitated crew members manned the vessel not caring any more if they saw land or not knowing that hoping was futile dreaming of a brighter future only a phantom of what could have been. Then out of the still foggy gloom emerged a hulking shape monumentally blacker then the shadows on witch it was set growing steadily clearer and vivid as it drew nearer and the twinkling light in the east grew more radiant. Could it be? Then just as the fiery brilliance of the morning sun rose above the horizon the mist departed, the darkness faded, and there before there eyes was a majestic star shaped continent vast beyond imagining infested with towers and hill tops once so fare and beautiful. Above all rose the imposing form of the Menil Tarma the mountain hollowed to Eru and its peek glimmered in the rising sun of dawn to crown the ruins at its feet. There before there eyes was Numenor now barren , a wasteland of sand and hard rock besides the Menil Tarma, but there it was nevertheless. At the cite of that wondrous isle all hearts and minds where uplifted and the shadows of the day had finally vanished. All men cheered regardless of there troubles feeling the child in them yearning naively for lost mysterious places long gone long lost. Elrohir fell flat on his face with excitement and the young look out stood cheering fore awhile but then fell to standing awe stricken inspired by the disheveled but still glorious sight that met his gaze. With out understanding then all eyes were pried from the isle and to Elendur and what all the crew saw touched there hearts more then the amazing land mass they had just stood mesmerized to. The Tall unbowed captain once so strong and wise now crouched slumped against the mast openly weeping the clear tears rolling freely down his cheeks and wetting his shirt. All sounds of joy abruptly ceased and at last words hardly audible but clearly evident where heard moaning from the sailor's mouth. "Eru bless my men." "Give them peace and bliss fore even this island no matter how awe inspiring to behold is nothing in comparison with my men's devotion." Then turning sterner of face he realized suddenly that his crew where staring directly at him and he blushed feeling overwhelmed by his carelessness but in response all seaman stood to attention and saluted there captain crying aloud "Hail Elendur master of shipwrights and all sailors of our generation." After a moment's pause the captain rising calmer now and relieved said simply looking first to the heavens and then to his crew "Thank you." Then elrohir who had also recovered from shock commanded ""Drop anchor" with out addressing his friend and boss but when on speaking afterwards receiving nods from all the men standing near by. ""We rest until noon and then set foot on the shores of our ancient ancestor's homeland." "You have done your duty thus far well." "Now harden yourselves for the next stage of our expedition." After this short rest long longed for the crew sailed slowly and cautiously to the bay of Andunia fearing that there ship might be lost on some shoal or underwater ridge that was raised by Eru to prevent trespassers to draw too close to the isle but no such barrier could be found. When they dropped anchor in the bay there anxieties where replaced by wonder and awe once again fore the buildings of the Numenorians though worn with care on this end of the isle where intact. Many of the buildings the magnificent structures elsewhere had clearly been tossed down by the might of nature's furry but hear the dwelling places where left standing either by some craft of the makers the craftsman of the lords of Andunia or grace of the lords of the west or the One. After all the lords of Andunia such as Amandil father of Elendil of whom king Amandil lord of the Gondorians was afterwards named where always among the faithful who rejected the might of Sauron and where ridiculed but eventually saved from disaster and death from there unstained hearts. No bones or petrified remains of the inhabitance where there to be seen. They had all dissolved in the depths of the sea long ago save the loathsome bones of . . . well we shall get to that later. The buildings on the dock had to be searched fore artifacts that was all to clear. The first structure that appeared to hold items of enormous importance was a wide and very tall building that wasn't evidently the most impressive or important structure on the bay but most intact. The doors of the stone structure where locked but a side entrance witch bore no door provided the best way of entering the complex. There was something about this building that seemed beckon the sailors and especially Elendur although the sensation was unexplainable. It was like invisible hands where dragging him against his will towards the dark gaping entrance way. Slowly and carefully the host of sailors entered the superstructure hardly glancing back at all just as Elendur had entered the stronghold of the servants of Sauron on the lonely island. The floor was of an ornate tile baring rich carvings of men and of runes and of horses. Similar carvings where engraved in to the walls on either side. Scenes of men baring swords, knives, clubs, and bows, against a determent army of goblins and men and . . . dragons? The likeness of Glaurung and other worms of the brood of the beasts of Morgoth could be clearly pictured. "It's a pictogram of the wars the Edain the fathers of men made with the elves against the dark lord of Angband" pronounced Elrohir a little shocked but also intrigued. "See" he said again suppressing a smile pointing to another carving. "There is Hurin fighting Orcs with his enemy's ax." The engraving of a mighty warrior baring a loft an imposing battle ax over head surrounded by limp dead corpses could be scene next to an inscription in runes bellow on a bronze plaque. "What do those runes say" asked a younger lad lagging behind pointing to the small black. "Day shall come again" replied Elendur intently gazing at the picture of Hurin an odd glimmer in his eyes. "It was the warrior's war cry before he was taken captive by the enemy and cursed by the Dark Lord along with all his kin." "Its time to move on" promptly interrupted Elrohir grabbing his captain by the shoulder and gently but forcefully guiding him towards the hall way ahead. Reluctantly still staring at the carving of Hurin as he and his companions made ready to leave the room, Elendur stopped dead in his tracks and opened his mouth wide as though struck by grate amazement. Seeing that there master was kept at bay by something of enormous importance the company who had just taken there next couple of steps halted and looked in the direction to witch there captain now look upon. There in an out of the way corner was another passage way smaller then any other that the sailor's had thus far spotted. It was blocked by a small thin but monumentally heavy door built on it was carved the elegant form of a tall lord cloaked and armed fore war baring a lofty helm with the symbol of the white tree. On the door was written this signal but crucial word beyond all hope. "Library." Behind that door could be hidden the lore of princes and herb masters who's knowledge had long since faded in to the twilight never to return to light save fore these precious weeks of reemergence . All the books of the library of Andunia could aid the Gondorians healers and captains of war and of the wide waters fore thousands of years and perhaps guide all peoples of the crown to a new golden age long longed fore. There was only one problem. The door was blocked. Cursing realizing this Elendur threw his entire weight on the stone surface of the entrance barrier although he knew that it would prove fruitless . To his side leapt many of the sailors besides but Elrohir and a few of the others stood back knowing that all efforts to open that stone door with out a key where futile and possibly dangerous. After many of the men where tossed senseless upon the floor and Elendur was left in a similar situation Elrohir finally drew up the courage to speak up. "Its useless unless we search the rest of the building." "We need to find another entrance or the key and that is likely farther upstairs or in another hall." "Even if we don't find anything hear we can still reach Armenilos where we can find other books and scrolls of lore even more important then your collection hear or in the stronghold of the black Numenorians witch Mithrandir knew full well." "Turn aside turn from this deadly and exhausting place and gather your wits captain of captains." "Better advise none could give." Rising to his feet the aching man nodded and ordered all others too listen to his first mate's wise council. The faces of the would be door breakers where drenched with sweat and where evidently slower as they all walked down the more narrow hall way that lead thence to another wider room in witch was set not only a staircase as expected but also two other doors locked as well. Seeing no other option or opportunity left seize the sailors decided to climb the high staircase witch wound thrice as high as the tower of that nameless strong fortress on the isle of the black Numenorians who's descendants had attacked Elendur and his faithful band of brothers who themselves where descendent of the faithful of the island of the star. The war between the kinsman and the faithful was still going on years and years after the island of there peoples had sunk and now risen once again. Still higher and higher the stairs rose and still higher the sailors climbed. "If this is smaller then those other structures then imagine what it would have been like to climb the staircases of those bastions" gasped elrohir looking red faced at his rag tag exhausted fellow crew members ready to give up. Bent on recovering what ever secrets this mysterious building held the captain and company held to there mission fore quite some time until they reached a landing before the last dozen steps. In a wall to there right was set a window round like that of a port hole on a vessel but twice as large. "Its amazing that the glass of this window didn't shatter in the downfall" commented Elendur peering threw the perfectly transparent glass being farthest ahead of the host behind. With out warning he turned very rigid and fore a moment it seemed like he would fall over with fear or excitement witch none could tell. Not knowing what was vexing his captain Elrohir came to his friend's side and also peered threw the window and discovered the truth. In the bay next to there ship was now docked a long boat crowded with armored men prepared fore hand to hand combat. There sworn foes had scene them from afar and had followed them but do to the mist had hid there movements and where likely but the vanguard of a larger host anchored farther out at sea awaiting the news of there scouting party who's first purpose was to wipe out there rivals. Why They hadn't left men aboard there ship to guard there vessel elrohir could not say. They originally intended board there vessel only once again and gather carts and packs to hold all there artifacts they came across. They surely couldn't do that now. Surprisingly after one swift search of there vessel, the foes did not sink her but left her alone unguarded. They where hear not fore the ship quite yet they would return with men to plunder later. Now was the time to kill. Now was the time to wipe out all advisories with the sword. No prisoners,, no burdens besides the gold and precious treasures of the isle to bare back on there watery path back to the south. The sooner the Gondorians where slain the better. ""I thought that they where stranded out at sea" grumbled Elrohir. "They apparently have friends" murmured Elendur. "Lots of friends and lots of ships." "You don't mean" moaned elrohir stammering realizing the meaning of his captain's words. "Yes" bluntly said Elendur in an abrupt monotone that revealed the urgency of the situation. "We are dealing with an entire fleet of vessels." "Why didn't Gandalf tell you of this" cried elrohir miserably . "Because this information would have kept us from our appointed task" replied Elendur commandingly. "We where meant to not only rescue the artifacts and the knowledge of Numenor but also to protect them." "Our mission is now more clear." "They will see our tracks that lead to this building and in this narrow corridor we will outlast them all." A fire was now in the captain's eyes the desire fore bloodshed and hard fighting. Now he could prove himself. Now he would make his enemies remember his name. With a flick of his wrist he drew his sword and commanded his men to do likewise. In split seconds blades sharp and bright in that dark place glittered together in unison hungry fore blood like there masters. Bows where useless in such a narrow place or so they thought wrongly as I will elaborate upon shortly but luckily had taken many blades from there enemies bodies after the last raid and to there surprise they had found that they had been of there own folk's craftsmanship and not that of the black numenorians. These blades likely where stolen long ago in some distant conflict between the black tower and the white. All the sailors had heard the conversation of there leaders and comrades and knew that there lives where in peril. Action was called fore and they where ready to answer the cry of war the summons to prepare themselves fore the struggle at hand. Elendur's call to arms would be heeded. The minutes flew past and still no sign of there foe could be hear or seen out the round window. The armored fools where now already in the building but wary. How close where they? Then came at last the clinking of steel and the murmur of countless voices bellow in some hall or passage way. The drawn blades of the Gondorians where stiff in there hands with sudden anger and the fire of war mongers was soon ignited in to a blaze that could have reduced the forests of Arda to black ash. The clank of steel and voices drew closer ever closer an open threat a warning that conflict was now very near. The footsteps of the host where louder and more rapid as the foes climbed swiftly up the stairs. The lord of the army of those cruel men must have realized that his opponent lay in weight somewhere upstairs or was busy in some upper chamber ignorant of the jaws that where steadily closing sooner then anticipated on the helpless prey. But Elendur and Elrohir and all there allies where far from helpless. They where just as prepared to meet the black tide of armored fools as there enemies. The contest of iron wills at last erupted in to open battle. Out of the gloom appeared the vanguard of the army eyes peering hatefully up at them threw the darkness. The light of the window was only enough to illuminate the first few sailors but from the tracks in the soil damp and altogether muddy from being underwater fore years unnumbered below they knew that there foes where grater then what met the eye. Because the corridor was so small and narrow contrary to the belief of both sides arrows would have been very deadly since bow shots would have been at point blank range but why the host of the black Numenorians a professional army didn't know this is still a matter of much debate among the lore masters. Soon both sides realized this mistake and they cursed there ill fortune fore not bringing with them bows from there ships but no matter blades would serve the deadly purpose. Only three men could walk abreast up that staircase and so the fight became more of a contest among single warriors at a time then a full scale battle of many men crashing against many men. When one armed lord fell another warrior soon took his place only to fall like his forerunner. With in twenty minutes or so the lore masters say the staircase of that nameless building was drenched with the blood of both sides. Some fools tripped and slid down to find there end at the hand of a surprised foe or against hard stone more unyielding then adamant. Rather then standing back after several of his sailors where viciously cut down, Elendur fought among his men wielding his sword two handed slaying armored black Numenorians with relative ease. To his side leapt Elrohir face scarlet with wrath his eyes blazing menacingly at the foes that came poring up the stares made visible when the vanguard of there host was at last destroyed only to be replaced by another. The battle was a gruesome business. Men where fighting hand to hand in a place too narrow too bunched up together. A swing of Elrohir’s' sword nearly sliced off one of his comrade's arms while blocking another strike from a squat evil looking man wearing a black robe under his armor. The enemy then extracted a wicked looking knife from his belt and attempted to plunge it in to the first mate of Elendur but elrohir barely knocked it aside with the hilt of his sword while the blade of his weapon held the foe's sword at bay. The two men stared back at one another appreciating there fighting skill and quick reflexes and then clashed together again in a frenzy of movement. Somehow elrohir managed to knock his enemy's sword out of his hand and slam him over the head with the flat side of his blade. The black cloaked soldier crumpled to the cold stone floor eyes still burning fearlessly at his opponent. Just as the dazed fool tried to rise up and assail his would be killer one of his comrades simply ran over him and threw a dagger at Elrohir's head. Ducking in time the first mate dodged to one side and dug his own knife in to the attacker's leg while swinging his sword around to dispatch the foe once and fore all. However with one clever and swift movement of the black Numenorian's blade the enemy's sword stretched out and not only blocked the stroke but also extended the point of his weapon in to Elrohir’s shoulder. Deep in to the first mate's flesh it bore sinking threw his skin and innards like a kitchen knife would dive right threw butter. The cry of the desperate sailor could be heard by his fellow Gondorians and in seconds a set of arms came down from the heavens and brought a broad blade down upon the exposed neck of the black Numenorian. The enemies head came spinning off and fell on the helm of another black Numenorian with a loud crack. That unhappy soldier soon toppled over like his companions before him only to be trampled to death by another eager warrior just like the attacker Elrohir faced a minute prier to his unwelcome uncomfortable encounter with the now headless man lying at his feet. Some battles just can't be simple thought the first mate wrenching his enemy's blade out of his body with a sickening grimace. As he turned to call fore medical assistance fore he was loosing blood fast, he was knocked over the head by a falling body and knew no more.
Chapter Four
When the sailor awoke he was next to a warm camp fire lying on a rugged paved road. The stares where in the sky and men where carrying planks of wood to feed the ravenous flames. With amusement he discovered that many of these planks resembled the red wood of the enemy vessel he and Elendur had spotted out the window in the odd stone building at the bay side. They had won. Recognizing a few kindly faces that he readily knew he fell back in to a deep slumber fore quite some time and then was rudely shaken by two men one of witch might have been the look out and he was carried fore a long while by cart before being carefully dropped around perhaps a mile away. The chill air had a sea tang to it a salty aroma that was all to familiar to the sailor. Where they heading back to the ship. Yes they where but why? Then all went dark again and he was troubled by dreams of screaming men with sharp cruel swords running towards . . . . and then reality intervened once again. This time he was on a rough wooden bed that he knew to be his own. The waves where rocking the vessel this way and that leaving the weakened first mate even more drowsy and a tad sicker then before. At last the familiar figure of Elendur and two other sailors could be seen walking threw a doorway only a few feet away. The expression on there faces was a mixture of weariness and anxiety. The captain looked as though he had been knocked out as well despite the fact that no bruises or marks where to be spotted on his head. The trio walked a few paces and then sat carefully almost deliberately cautiously at Elrohir's bed side. None of the men dared speak until the first mate broke the silence with a simple question. "We won?" The sailor's voice was horse and almost an inaudible grunt in the stuffy air bellow deck. He was pain. When he had woken he hadn't felt the ripples of torturous agony that flowed threw his limbs but the aching was now all too clear now. Shaking with frustration and anguish the sailor turned and tossed in bed while the worried voice of Elendur recounted the final moments of the battle in excruciating detail. Not all of that remarkable story can now hear be told but it is said that once the men of Gondor learned that there second in command had been beaten to a pulp they became enraged with wrath grater then before if that can be imagined . There onslaught was so terrible that eventually suffering many losses they murdered every soldier who had dared smite there friends in arms. Elrohir had been scene early in the battle and thus rescued once had fainted from being further trampled by his foes. In that way was the first mate's life saved and upon finding his limp body the battle cry fore justice witch acted as the key to victory achieved. After all the bodies had been gathered on a paved road not so far away from the actual battle in the building and burned in an enormous fire witch had been made possible by the wood of the soldier's own vessel, in the distance many black sailed war ships could be vividly descried threw the mist. They had company again. Rather then facing the foes in the bay of Andunia Elendur explained that they decided to board there ship and sail around the island to a quiet bay witch did not appear on the scroll but was mentioned in the journal of the kingsman. "When we found the bay we saw that several black ships of smaller size then our own where anchored there and so we looked fore another inlet or place where harborage was possible" the captain went on saying. "But we also needed to find a path once we landed that will take us to Armenilos" interrupted one of the other sailors bobbing up and down on his chair like an absurd wind up toy but not with excitement but with concern seeing that his comrade Elrohir was still in considerable pain. The first mate's body had been scared fore life by cuts, scrapes, and countless bruises received by a man who tripped over the mate's body and another who ran over the huddled mass of living and dead men. That is why I have said that the sailor's life was saved from being trampled any further fore he was trampled by these unhappy fools before he was rescued but he did fair better then other Gondorians who where carried out of the fray long after being seriously injured. "At last we determined to locate another bay close to Andunia but not so close as to attract the attention of our enemies" said Elendur now giving both his companions a glance that practically informed them that he did not wish to be interrupted. He alone would tell this tale and now it was drawing towards its close. The would be bard and captain when on and on about how they looked and escaped fandom black sailed vessels that emerged out of the fog again and again until at last or so he said they discovered another hidden dock small and insignificant in size at the very point where one of the island's star point's merged with the center of the continent and it was at least thirty miles distant from the bay of Andunia and even connected with the same paved road that they had briefly stopped on out side the building witch apparently continued fore miles upon miles until it reached Armenilos where treasures still lay in wait. "It's a grievous loss that we didn't get to explore the library of that strange building" finished Elendur but promptly added "But I deem grater discoveries wait our eyes at Armenilos." After this long and wearisome conversation the first mate slept fore some time. His mind passed to his little home in Ithillian not so far from where Mablung the hero of the crown lived in the days of Elessar's son Eldarian. He thought of his wife and two sons who dwelled there patiently waiting his return from sea the children having never met there father. After this journey was over he would retire from venturing on the sea. He was too far from those persons who met most to him. The sailor could picture the carpeted floors of his tiny home, the smell of his wife's perfume, the, the fragrance of the flowers of Ithillian in spring, and the beauty of the snow of that land glittering shining brilliantly in Winter's icy clutches so dreaded hear out at sea hear amidst the crashing friendless waves. He had Elendur as a guide and companion along with the crew fore company but it was no longer the ocean that drew his heart to one central point but his family far away. Why had he become a sailor? Why did he travel so far from home to the shipwrights of the kings to outdo his heroes of old knowledgeable in the ways of the wide oceans? Who needed such perilous and foolish hobbies? But deep in his heart Elrohir knew that he once needed to make this dream a reality. He knew somewhere remote butt still evident that he had once loved the sea as he loved his wife and respected his friend and captain. But things had changed. as the fiery joys of the past where now drownd out by the comforts that he could have experienced if he had stayed at home thoughts of being with his wife maybes and what ifs that where vague shadows of sanity in the hostile busyness of shipwrights, of sailors of renown. Elendur would spend out his days loving the ocean and sailing on its serfice but he Elrohir was tired of his occupation, tired of the sea, and eager fore the warm embrace of his loved ones fore had loved ones where as the captain had only the wide waters and his close friends. The next day Elendur came to his first mate and said "I am planning on leaving fore Armenilos today my friend." "I have long hoped that we will travel together on this expedition but you are ill and my chances of recovering the artifacts before Iluvitar reclaims the isle fore the sea is gradually slipping away every minute." "I doubt not that the black sailed ships spotted at dawn that the lads saw are not apart of a larger force bent on the same purpose." was "If any of the sailors of the black fleet take anything fore them selves while we are traveling then it is likely that Iluvitar will unleash his wrath and we will be undone." "Or perhaps" said Elrohir contemplating the mind of his enemies "They are not interested in what scraps of gold they can find on the way to Armenilos but the treasury of the kings in the capital city." "They want nothing less then the mother lode and they are biding there time rushing fore the grand prize not knowing that they will have now time to bask in there wealth after the fact." "They think that the isle is going to stand fore a longer period of time or fore ever and do not recon the consequences of there actions or so I guess." Looking affectionately and admiringly at the first mate Elendur said at length "Your right." "They are making ready to plunder the treasury first and launch a full scale rape of the entire island with there fleet." "First will land the main party and afterwards the free fore all." "Well they won't get too far that's fore sure." That same fire of determination was burning in the captain's eyes a chance to fulfill his task his holy quest. "You have come to tell me that I can not come and I respect that decision" Elrohir blurted regretting his bluntness but added swiftly "but is there anything you wish of me while you are gone?" "Yes" replied Elendur nodding rapidly molding over some hidden thought about to be revealed. "I am going to leave my ship under your command." "If anything happens to me you will be in charge of those men too injured to come with us now but I deem who will be ready to leave this isle when the time comes." "Are you up fore the task?" "Yes" smiled the first mate blushing with embarrassment. "You can count on me."
Chapter Five
All the men where ready and prepared fore the long march a head of them. Blankets, tents, provisions, and carts fore moving stores of artifacts and gold by hand where all assembled and now on the path. The numenorians had constructed only a few paved roads since many of the traffic of the isle was made up of pedestrians mounted on wondrous horses. The path they where going to take was one of those few paved roads and this path lead straight to Armonilos capital of the continent. No one could imagine then the stores of treasures piled away in volts in lost lonely buildings that stood long ago and what currently remained. Perhaps nothing of that extensive wealth existed after the downfall? Could these artifacts have been destroyed when the isle sank beneath the waves? But then if that was so why did the Valar send them to retrieve artifacts? The lords of the west surely knew that something of that lost bounty of treasures still remained. There fore all knew thus that they where not going on a fruitless mission. Iluvitar was not mistaken. There objective was clear. Find the artifacts meaning what ever heirlooms, books, or ancient weapons or maps from the first age and bring them back to Gondor. That could be done with relative ease as long as they didn't meet any soldiers of the black fleet along the way. They had to beat the plunderers to the prize and escape before the wrath of god came hurling down upon there heads. It they did not find these artifacts soon and where caught in the midst of the plundering chances where that all would die in the title destruction and be swept in to the depths. With only another swift word with Elrohir Elendur left his ship and joined his adventurers on the path. His face was a amalgam of concern but also curiosity. He knew that he was plunging in to peril but also realized that this experience would be his crowning achievement if he succeeded in his holy quest bestowed upon him by the One Eru himself. Slowly they began to walk a bunch of determent hearty sailors bent on there single goal hating there fruitless task seeing no benefit in it fore themselves but also finding suddenly setting out that they like there commander where excited as well curious to gaze on the ruins of the colossal edifies the glorious heart of there ancestor's ancient dwelling place the capital of the isle of the Star. The hours wore on gradually but with every step grew there innate desire to reach the city of Armenilos and always overhead loomed the mountain the Menil Tarma hollowed to Eru. It rose before them like a cloud of doom reminding them that they must hold to there task with diligence or risk the wrath of Iluvitar a warning unequaled by any wizard's words. They would not line there pockets with countless golden coins and rings and chains. No they would collect and store. They would gather to preserve. Along the way on either side where building less preserved then there counterparts along the bay side of Andunia. Towers once as lofty as mighty hills where now in gigantic fragments scattered across the Berrin muddy desolate field once so green with grass now but a pile of wet sand and shells. The isle had been under water fore quite some time after all. Yet among the throng of broken ruins where some structures still magnificent still standing tall. These building had been the older the stronger built by hands untouched by a hatred fore the ban of the Valar and the gift of Eru the doom of man. When night came on the wondrous mysterious island became like a haunted grave yard of the restless dead. Elendur thought he heard some on whispering something among a pile of broken stone to the right hand side of his tent and so to did his companions. Lights far off in the muddy fields could be spotted and they where clearly not burning camp fires of black Numenorians. No the lights where at times blue or green. The next few nights where even worse. Now a presence could be felt. A sadness a sense of loss came remote but overwhelmingly down upon the sailors. The soles of the unhappy traitors to the One Eru Iluvitar where still lamenting there rebellion doomed to dwell amidst the ruins of there ancient home fore this time of reemergence. On the evening before the company of Elendur reached the city of Armenilos something even stranger and more frightening took place witch I am loathed to retell. The walk that day had been hard and all welcomed the onset of night's cool shade. The moon had been now blotted from the sky and all was impenetrably black. There was no wood to make a fire to shut out the darkness but nevertheless the company sat around in a circle huddling together as though around a camp fire's warm blaze. The sense of unshakable sadness had slammed over them like a cold wave but then the sensation was replaced by fear a fear so potent that it made the blood run cold and the heart quaver. But nothing in the gloom was there to be scene that evoked such trepidations. The men looked at one another anxiously nodding to one another. Something was odd. Something wasn't right. Could black Numenorians be on there heels. Fore all the long days they hadn't seen one armored enemy on the road or other intersecting dirt paths lined on either side with the remains of a low stone wall. It was about time that they showed there ugly faces hoping to claim artifacts treasures heirlooms that where bestowed to Gondor by the lord of the west and all of Arda besides Iluvitar. It had been assumed that the foe had lagged behind and was now lost on some other road. Maybe they where gathering there expeditionary force? But then if they where only preparing themselves then they could hardly have traveled this far on the road unless they where scouts searching ahead fore a clear path. Luckily thus far the paved road was not blocked by any of the ruins. Feeling the creeping cold dread come more poignant once again Elendur motioned to his sword's hilt. Everyone understood the order. In one sudden movement the company of men drew there blades shining in the gloom bright steel illuminated by a new light. Now just as they drew there weapons one of those lights far off those ghostly flickering burning blazes appeared. Gasping with fright all men sheathed there blades hoping that the light would then disappear but it didn't. Instead it crept ever closer and closer and closer until it was almost the size of a man at a grate distance in the midst of a wide field all alone. Then in the midst of that light now seeming to change to a pallid blue in color from a searing white a phantom shape could be seen. The shadowing form of a tall figure clearly a mighty man of grate girth and size was vaguely perceived in the very heart of the flickering light. Every sailor's heart skipped a few beats. Every sailor wished to flee at once but was transfixed by fear. This was a true apparition a wondering spirit of the realm of the fantastically impossible tales long perceived to be but a myth now scene to be actually real. After creeping a tad nearer the spectral figure halted and seemed to rays its right arm in a gesture of peace of a parlay. The light that engulfed the shadowing form of the person seemed to fade but the dark individual seemed to grow in clarity until all its features could be descried. The ominous spirit was that of a young muscular man in fine garments. From that grate distance his face could be vividly pictured as though trust in to every one's mind. He was cleanly shaven but stern and still wise in seeming. From his eyes came a shadowy blackness that swallowed up the light around him slowly until all that was left was the specter’s outline his vague and distant form indiscernible amid the twilight of evening. At last the last glimpse of that ghost vanished leaving only the darkness of night impenetrable and maybe blacker then before. Stunned with sudden pity but also fright fore the lost sole the sailors shuttered and fell on the ground stricken by the images of the apparition that ran swiftly threw there mind's eye. Who was this fallen Numenorian child of kings? Why must he and his brethren walk the earth once more fore this brief time contemplated captain Elendur. Instead of lingering in that cursed place of lamentation the company rose to there shaking feet and at once fled there camps dragging what ever they could to encamp over a half a mile away. They ran like sheep before the ravenous bloodthirsty wolf and like a pack of wild fearful children stamping stupidly from a cloud of ruthless hornets crying helplessly fore salvation from there pursuers stingers to no avail. All along there desperate journey far a head of there course smaller flashing flickering lights appeared on either side distant but no less baleful and portentous. Yet as they finally laid camp that evening they saw there unearthly spectral visitors shining far off disappear in to blackness like the specter they had seen up close and personal and the sailors slept warily all night long. Then came the grey of dawn. The red sun blazing forth drove out the shadows of the past evening illuminating the land fore miles round as well as the mountain of Eru that grew magnificently in size. Large stones with more runes appeared on the borders of the ancient path and far behind lay the towers crumbled and some intact rising up periodically fingers of doom grouping fore the shaken seaman to see to remind them of there danger. It was resolved by the company that the men should return to there former deserted camping ground to retrieve there lost supplies and equipment. They would not be able to march on with out carts and the majority of there tents. The night before many men had to share the smallest of tents and all agreed that this would not do fore the entire journey. So they ran back to the cite of fear and loathing and what met there eyes astounded them all. All the tents had been neatly gathered together ready fore transportation and the carts arranged in a perfect line a cross the road just as the men had intended to place them as they pushed those heavy weald containers to the city of the kings. Armenilos would be reached by dusk and during there expedition of the treasuries they would need all the carts to carry the artifacts in as could be possibly pushed to the salvage cite. Who had done this fore all the sailors? Where these ghosts of the isle friends or foes? They seemed keen on fulfilling the role of helpful assistants rather then frightful guardians bent on driving forth the Gondorians in this circumstance. These questions where not however of chief importance right then and there. The path wound on fore many miles and to reach Armenilos swiftly would need the combined total committed effort of all the men at once. Time was crucial to success. They either could rescue the books, gold, and heirlooms before the black Numenorians or eventually be caught in the destruction of the isle upon there foe's mass plundering of the main capital city of Numenor. By afternoon as expected the Menil Tarma was now grown to a massive size no longer distant but very near like a light house that springs from the island encircled by the sea increases in size as one nears its near by port or like a tower from far off lofty and ominous drastically is magnified to full scale as the night rides ever closer to its iron gates guarded and vast. The wind had increased and all faces where turned to the road that twisted on a head just as all hands where busy with the pulling of carts or the adjustment of bulky bags that where tightened around the weary shoulder. When the sun was at last sinking beneath the horizon a shining globe of red and golden fire that lay bare all the isle's secrets the tall tumultuous scene of rising and falling towers loomed up some fallen others bent over as though struck by some earth quake still more standing resolute unbent like the other buildings of the inhabitance but this time there where far more of them clustered together this time what they beheld was an organized complex of man made structures in rows. When they drew even nearer and the light of day had faded to blackness there fears of ghosts or phantoms of the past was replaced by awe when they noticed how elegantly carved where the walls and pinnacles of those structures up to there tired but astonished faces. Even in the gloom runes could be seen on doors more richly engraved then before and when the moon at last rose and they had passed threw more miles filled with higher battlements and imposing towers they saw one grater ruin more imposing then any other they had yet scene as awe inspiring as the mountain of Eru the Menil Tarma. Yes before there mortal eyes they saw the magnificent eloquent massive colossus of the tower of Tarminutor Elros first king of the island of the star witch only the lords of that continent had gazed upon and travelers unknown before the isle fell under the crashing pitiless waves of wrath. It was almost completely intact only slightly tilting to its right side almost slightly bowing if it where to the Menil Tarma recognizing Iluvitar’s superior and all powerful nature in comparison to its feeble imitation of greatness of magnitude undimmed by the vices of lesser men of the twilight. But just when this spectacle of wonder and delight was at last beheld the company could also see another ruin barely standing up tilted to the point of almost certain collapse. The structure's dome had long since been torn off by the elements or some work of man or Valar in humiliation. Fore it was an evil structure built in commemoration of Mellkor Morgoth lord of darkness. Its walls where all black and its doors locked shut against there entry seeming impassible if any man wished to enter such a cursed place but it was not unopenable and mortals once under the sway of Sauron would have longed eagerly to enter that temple to Morgoth to gaze on what lay inside that shrine to the lord of the enemies of Arda. Shaking there heads disgusted and reviled by the very cite of the temple the sailors turned aside and walked fore some time until they reached the foot of Elros's tower. There armor could be found witch they collected with runes and inscriptions in the Adunaic tongue of the local inhabitance derived likely from the languages of the Edain who fought against the dark lord long ago when the world was both fare and young. Fore hours they beat upon the door of the stony door to the lofty tower to witness what treasures lay beyond its doorstep but with out a key it was indeed impenetrable. So they searched other buildings but a few strides away. These buildings where all very promising and revealed many secrets witch the lore masters still study on quiet days in the library of Minas Anor. In one structure shorter but wider then the rest an entire chamber was devoted to countless scrolls and pamphlets of historical documents of healing and that of the construction of ships. In another room was found mottles of potential designs fore vessels with high masts and many rooms bellow deck like to there own ships in shape and geometric pattern but more elegant seeming now that they had only just be discovered. Then they all turned to another building clearly a bank and long Elendur and his companions sought fore a way to enter it fore like the tower of Elros it too had no key but by beating on it with hammers and picks the men found in there packs provided by the wizard they broke open the front entrance with out too much trouble. Apparently the magic that held the entrance of the tower of Elros was not present hear. Inside with in the first hall way alone where piled on tables lost heirlooms of size and form appearing to be of elvish make witch was true fore many of the piles of swords, bows, and daggers, along with an assortment of armor where made in Gondolin and Nargothrond before Angband fell and those kingdoms where taken by Morgoth foe of gods and men and elves of the sun lit valleys and cavernous strongholds of there princes. In the center of this particular room was set a pedestal of stone on witch were not only thousands of intricately carven runes and symbols but also icons of warriors in the zenith of there youth and glory as well as scenes of proud fighters sprawled out on bloody fields stricken by mortal wounds tears streaking down there refined faces all too life like all too melancholy or seemingly grim to be just a simple meaningless engraved still picture to adorn a piece of furniture. On the pedestal was a plain stand witch held an enormous grand battle ax who's shining blade flickered in the moon light that shown threw a near by window. The handle of the mighty weapon bore no runic inscriptions but was exceedingly thick as though the man who wielded it was very powerful and much stronger then the warriors of our own age. Striding confidently towards the ax bright eyed Elendur lifted it up staring wildly at the magnificent weapon and then swinging it about his head a few times before placing it reverently in a long wooden chest empty no longer now baring the weight of that wondrous battle ax of old. Seeing that the brave hearty sailors who stood by where stunned and where trembling with anxiety not knowing what had come over the captain of there long ship Elendur spoke aloud his voice as warm and yet as strong as the sea itself. "See hear the magnificent weapon the mighty ax that I have just held in my mortal hands was the ax of the lord Tuor father of Earendil the mariner and husband of the daughter of the king of Gondolin." "This heirloom is as are all these wondrous works of metal work and artistry from a time remote long thought lost fore ever." "This beautiful ax that now lies in my long chest witch must be carried with grate care is verily from the Elder Days the First Age." "Blessed are we to handle these treasures even if it be fore a little while." When that hall was searched entirely fore there where other side rooms still apart of the main room still to be checked fore artifacts the priceless objects where placed in there bags or carried to the carts outside in the fresh night air soon to be lit by dawn first's light. That house of honored treasures was soon wholly excavated fore those things of immense value that had lain inside. Upper halls where filled with maps and charts witch the sailors swiftly piled up and stuffed in to smaller packs meant fore carrying such old manuscripts that could be easily ruined by the elements of nature fore these papers where fully intact where as the other manuscripts of there other venture where not as well kept and apparently used by many hands before torn and faded by the wrath of the ocean. But even those papers where still precious and held marvelous the same. The writing and illustrations of distant lands and of the island where still to be read. Yet these artifacts these maps and charts where wondrously preserved. How they had weathered better then there counterparts witch where locked in safes and volts witch the ocean had never penetrated not even the wisest among us can now say. Perhaps these artifacts where evidently meant to fall in to the hands of the captain and his faithful crew. At last Elendur lead his men out that building and down the dusty trail bags, heavy sacks, and wide carts filled with the wealth of princes, nobles, . . . kings. Yes fore one night's work they had done well. Long they all had refused to sleep to continue on searching but at last with out command all the sailors under the shadow of the towers of Armenilos pitched there tents and slept ads the sun began to rise heedless of any foe witch proved to be there undoing fore if they had at the very least set a guard about there camp one of them might have seen the host of armored demonic shapes that emerged slowly from the road on witch they now slept contentedly. No force of man could have defied there coming though under Elendur's command fore these ruthless soles where bent on the Gondorians Destruction. The black fleet had set forth this first host to launch the ransack of the chief gilded city of Armenilos early since tidings came that spies had spotted ragged men in grey and brown walking along the paved path to the city of kings clearly men of Amandil shipwrights or guards of the white tree witch the lord of the black fleet could not rightly discern. But the captain of the black numenorians would not allow any competition no matter how feeble and contemptuously inept in there task to recover all the treasures of the land of the star fore the sailors of Gondor where too small in number to even attempt this. Nay not one worthless scrap of shredded paper or golden coin would fall in to the hands of the royal crown of the white city. All the gold and pamphlets and maps and artifacts of antiquity would be taken fore the master of the black fleet and his lords. No others would claim it fore there own and challenge his right to the priceless wealth beyond imagining. This mere vanguard would slay all but the chieftain of his crew. The captain of the Gondorians would know his king's mission and would reveal all his dirty little secrets under pain of torture if he was indeed a servant of the lord Amandil sent by the white city to supplant the Black Numenorian's chances of rising to power once again and assail the lands of the descendents of Arathorn's son Aragorn who had long since passed from the confines of this world. Then when all information was extracted from that fool of Minas Anor then he too would perish under the harsh steel blade of some terrible sword perhaps even his very own. Then at last the sacking of the entire island starting with the city of Armenilos could begin. Now the armored troops reached the cite of there camp and surrounded the company baring bows and warring daggers, small knives, and long pitiless swords on there belts. Still the men of Elendur slept on hearing neither the grunts of there attackers or the clink of hard steel upon hard steel the sounds of there suits of rare plate armor glinting menacingly in the new red sun blazing forth like a ball of pure fire scarlet as the blood about to be spilled on the mud splattered paved stones of the road. A few seconds sped by the smiles of sleeping men still clearly evident on careworn faces that could be descried in those tent's who's entrance canvas flaps had been tossed open to reveal the sailors with in by two scouts who quietly had snuck far a head like foxes peering down a rabbit's quaint whole. The jaws of the ravenous predator where closing fast and soon the soft neck of the prey would snap. The passing respite of silence was soon broken by the evil voice of one man far in the back who shouted waking all inside of the tents before death took many of them "Fire." The notched arrows of twenty-four bows where set flying to there marks cutting threw though canvas like the thinnest sheet of paper you ever saw and slaying men instantly. The faces of the wild cruel men of the black numenorians where all caught in expressions of sudden joy smiles etched a cross old and young soldiers of the black fleet. Grunts and screams could be heard inside every tent that soon where replaced by shouts of panic and of fleeing far away or protests in anger to meet the foe at once. With in moments the order came to fire again and once again a volley of merciless arrows slew men but this time those rushing fore there weapons desperate fore escape in vain fore they too soon fell save fore a hand full. These men could only grab there weapons in time to be wounded terribly but not mortally watching other comrades fall limp beside them anguish engraved eternally on there face. Then came the final command to the black host of the fleet of the south. The lord of the army greatest of the servants of the master of the black fleet emerged to the head of the column or archers and crying in his evil voice cruel and terrible said "Find the captain of the Gondorians any others will be brought before me." "Go and know that the lord of the darkness giver of freedom Mellkor goes with you." The armored men shouldered there bows and drew there blades. With out question with clear pleasure on there faces all of them ran headlong in to each tent. The sounds of torment and of confusion could be heard from outside tumult and chaos unequalled in that place since the fall of the isle. All the while however the commander of the master of the black fleet grinned like his men contemptuously picturing the ghastly scenes with in. A few more minutes passed but at last only ten bloody men of the sailors emerged along with another taller man seeming to be there captain all of them followed at the point of a black Numenorian's steel sword. At last the men of the black fleet said to there commander "We have brought them." "Do with them all what you and the master will." Giving his followers a quick gesture with his right hand he said bowing in a mock gesture of courtesy to the captain of the Gondorians ""My lord Gorthower sends his greetings." "What is your name good sir" sneered the commander in a condescending tone once again evoking all the false curtsy and evil intent in his bleak monotone that he could muster all at once. The tall battered and bloody figure answered him in a calm resolute voice that hardly betrayed his anxiety and unending anger fore allowing this disaster to happen under his own watch. ""I am Captain Elendur." "And what is your mission captain" the second in command to Gorthowr lord of the black fleet." ""I was sent by the Valar to recover artifacts and heirlooms of our ancient kin who once dwelt here" replied the Gondorian not seeing any harm in revealing this information knowing that it would do his foes no good at all. looking now openly hostile the commander stared incredulously at his opponent but then lashed out physically at his prisoner and slapped Elendur across the face. With out a cry of alarm the sailor excepted the blow and lay motionless unconquered by pain. "You lie" yammered two guards standing behind the black Numenorian's commander. "Nay" shouted the captain seeing that the truth of this matter might allow his captors to know there mortal peril and withhold there ransack of the island. "An old man on an old outpost of the kingsman came at night and informed me of my holly task sent to me on Iluvitar's own behalf and the Valar's divine will." "Nonsense" grumbled the commander disappointed that his questions where here answered by such ridiculously sounding claims. "If you take anything form the island as this servant of the Valar said to me" continued Elendur not revealing his foreboding concerning who this stranger the old man really was "Then it will lead to your undoing." "It may evoke iluvitar's wrath." ""Nonsense" repeated the lord commander second in command to Gorthowr. "My master demands to know why you have come here and your answers seem false to my ears." "Sent by the Valar" chuckled the evil soldier gazing at his victims. "Sent by the Valar." "Sent by Eru." "Sent by Iluvitar himself." The sound of his laughter was no less vial then his curd voice altogether terrible to Harkin to fore it twisted one's minds to doubts long held but bitterly rejected no seeming to hold more weight then the actual truth of the matter. "Should we kill the men besides the captain here" interrupted another thug black hair long and unkempt flying in the breeze blood covering his loathsome face. "Not yet" snorted the commander enjoying himself. Such sport hadn't come his way fore a long time. He would have a lot of fun slaying all these Gondorians. "They are clearly spies of the king Amandil" the soldier interrupted once again to his leader his face more terrifying then before. "No where not" retorted Elendur and a few of his companions. "Yes you are" snarled the commander no longer appearing to be getting a kick out of his dealings with the captain and his crew. "I don’t appreciate having my orders challenged by another save if it be of course the master Gorthowr" furiously screamed the commander unsheathing a dagger from his belt and holding it up to his subordinate’s neck. "yes I comply sir but we where sent to kill these filthy sailors save fore there leader the one the master shall take care off" gasped the subordinate soldier his bloody face turning even more scarlet by the minute. "Of course we are going to slay them but not right here" smoothly growled the leader of the squadron of black Numenorians. "We will take care of all of them in the temple of Sauron and sacrifice them all to Mellkor giver of Freedom." The second in command to Gorthowr explained pointing to the almost ruined tower of the dark lord. "Kill me but not my friends" intervened the captain Elendur bursting between the contesting foes. Knocking the Gondorian aside the commander only said "You time will come soon I promise you" and slugged the captain over the head with the hilt end of his dagger before sheathing it. The warm fresh red blood pored down and all was gradually growing dark. Before the oblivion of unconsciousness overtook him he wondered, who is this Gorthowr exactly? Yes he's master of the black fleet but who is he really? Is he a man or some kind of knew dark lord? Is he a former servant of Sauron being deathless or if he indeed be mortal but a servant of the second Morgoth who is no ore? Then before he could ask these questions to his captives growing in to fading black blurs overhead Elendur fell and knew no more until he was in the temple of Sauron.
Chapter Six
Elendur's mind was racing, his heart pounding senselessly like some twisted machine of the wizard Saruman's. He was trapped and in the hands of his sworn enemies. As he gathered his wits he slowly began to see his surroundings once again. Black walls surrounded him and staring up he saw that the roof of this structure the temple of Sauron was gone as he had seen earlier. The sky that met his eyes was full of dark rain clouds. WW- while he lay unconscious the bright morning was interrupted suddenly by a storm that came out of the west. The Valar and Iluvitar where not pleased that there messengers had been thus foiled by there foes the Black numenorians of Gorthowr the cruel. But luckily Elendur knew that he was not in the hands of the master of the black fleet quite yet but his second in command. He could see him now. A tall grim man now dressed in a fine black cloak like a judge of some sort presiding over a trial who's gloomy outcome of doom could already be guessed. On either side of him where the two thugs baring daggers long and sharp. The captain also knew that his comrades where close by. He could here there steady breathing behind his back stunned but still alive but not fore long or so the captain Elendur rightly guessed. The Gondorian peered up at his chief captor that servant off Gorthowr and spat in his direction but missed. He wanted to cry out curses and brake his bonds killing as many of his foes as he could before he was overcome by the sheer numbers of the armored men of the fleet. But any immediate act of aggression was now hopeless and he was wrapped in too many cords to fight. If he cried out he would be gagged and that would be out right miserable. Seeing his struggle of defiance the leader of the squadron the small army of the black fleet sent by the black master of the south just stood there looking very pleased with himself but he soon turned away and pointed to some point far back off the prisoners. He said "Unbind the prisoners fore ritual sacrifice." ""We will do our lord Mellkor grate honor by slaying these renegades but as has been planned spare the captain fore now." "Go at once fools" the grim task master cried out to his thugs who where oddly looking now reluctant to what ever was situated behind the Gondorians. At last the two enemies came along with a few others and cut the sailor's bonds even Elendur's and cast them around to see the rest of the room There on the far wall was a high stone alter carved in many runes of black speech and at its head was also a thrown of some sort and seated in that thrown where the skeletal remains of a person seeming to be caught by surprise leaning over contorted with pain and dismay caught in the ruin of the isle. Only a few days earlier Elendur had read a passage in his diary that was now haunting his brain knowing full well who this dead individual truly was. Beyond all doubt these bones where once the foundation of Sauron’s physical form before the downfall. This person was the dark lord. Long ago in the days of the last king of Numenor Sauron had become high priest to a new cult worship of Mellkor. He commanded that this temple should be built and at the hour when the king set forth to claim the shores of the blessed realm of the Valar and the elves thus hoping to achieve immortality not realizing his councilor Sauron's trickery, the dark lord sat in his temple and weighted fore the lords of the west to destroy the military might of Numenor. Instead the One Eru destroyed all of Numenor and changed the very shape of the world and thus the physical form that appeared fare to the eyes of elves and men that Sauron wore was no more and fell with the entire isle in to the depths. With that fare form the dark lord deceived the elves of Eregion to forge rings of power and also forged the one ring in the fires of mount Doom Orodruin. All the men of Gondor and of the black Numenorians stood astounded gasping and turning pale. They quavered and shook with fright so close to the foe of gods and men and elves but the lords of the black fleet also shuttered wit also excitement seeing there former lord god only less to there chief person of worship who is Mellkor whom the Eldar named Morgoth the dark enemy of the world. The name of Morgoth would also be taken up by an Estari cruel and terrible but even he was no match in might compared to the former dark lord of the same title. At length the captain of the black fleet's first squadron asked his captives "Do you know what this temple was designed fore?" Some knew but others did not so before some could answer the black Numenorian went on speaking saying "it was designed fore the slaying the sacrificing of traitors to the king those who wouldn't worship Mellkor rebels and friends of Elves." "as descendents of that folk witch called themselves wrongly the faithful believing in the false god of Eru Iluvitar, you all save your own captain lord Elendil will all die hear today on this very alter you now stand before." Seeing his men's distress Elendur shouted "Kill me." "Kill me instead please fore my men's sake." "The master wishes that you should die aboard his flag ship by his own hand alone after interrogation" bluntly said the black Numenorian commander but then cleverly added "Unless you are willing to divulge the truth hear about your mission." "I already have" yammered the desperate captain of the Gondorians. "You are no messenger of Eru or the Valar" growled the commander in a voice now more piercing then the eye of the dark tower of Barad Dur. "Unless you tell us the truth your friends will die but I tell you know that if you reveal all your secrets then I will let all your companions as well as yourself live." Elendur wondered if he should lie and save himself and his men but then doubted weather it would do him any good. How could he trust such a faithless servant of the darkness a worshiper of the dark lord of Angband now cast in to the outer void? No looking in his captor's eyes he saw guilefulness and treachery there blazing forth like a candle remote in the distance born by a wondering traveler on the road but still clear evident to the waking mind what that flickering light is. In the eyes of this corrupted servant of Gorthowr the cruel there was no honesty, no love, no sense of empathy or natural pity, but only bloodlust, hatred, and contempt. Hear was a man wholly ruined by the malaise of the darkness. Hear was a man who's name would be lost to history. But then EE-LENDUR thought of an idea that came to him them as though it where placed in his mind by another far off guiding his every move. The light of Eru had been ignited in his contemplations and decision making and now it illuminated a chance fore escape or for at the least vengeance. He realized fore the first time that he and all his men where now with out bonds and surrounded by men with knives and clubs on there belts enemies with too many weapons then where good fore them or even practicably useful in a fight since many of there long sword's where so heavy that they could only be wielded too handed or so the lore masters say of the infantry of the soldiers of the south. The chief of the captors believed that they could hardly fight against such an armed host and indeed it would seem a futile slaughter but something was blazing with in Elendur's heart a desire to slay his foe the commander of the squadron and avenge his fallen comrades. But how could every sailor some how steel weapons right from there foe's belts. That was almost impossible but there was another way fore the host to arm themselves. In a corner every one could see the gondorian crates, carts, and bags full of not only gold, and books but also weapons of grate antiquity from the second and first ages. They could first take weapons from the carts and bags and other containers fight there foes and then take there enemy's weapon's at last in the midst of combat from there own belts dealing deadly unexpected blows. "I wish to talk to my men concerning this plan to see if it is best fore every one if we choose to except your offer" replied the captain to his enemy's request and offer. He had to tell his comrades of the plan some how. How stupid was this commander. Elendur's answer came suddenly and clear. "No this choice is your own man of the sea whether to save you and your men or to watch your crew that came with you die." ? "Isn't there a third option" mused the sailor calmly. Before any of the guards could act in retaliation Elendur ran to the nearest cart and pulled out a long chest. Then with one swift movement he extracted from the box the ax of Tuor. As he charged in to his astonished foes he cried out to his comrades "Take all the weapons you can get your hands on in the crates and bags at once." "I will hold them off at bay." "Then take those knives and smaller weapons you can locate on our captor's belts as well to even the fight." "Attack, attack, attack." "Show no mercy what so ever and hold your ground if pressed." Heads fell from shoulders and limbs came flying off where ever the captain's borrowed ax fell in wrath. Some sailors where cut down but most oaf them reached the carts and bags and other containers where they found stores of weapons as well as there captor's bows and arrows witch they had laid aside seeing no use fore them at the moment along with some of there foes armor. Soon a terrible battle was joined in the very temple of Sauron of witch many songs have been sung in Gondor. Not all those deeds cruel and just must now hear be told but it must be said that while the sailors where now armed they where still tired and weary from there ill treatment and soon a grate portion of there host was cut off from the doorway and lost. Among them was Elendur with his mighty ax and several others dear to him. They attempted to grab smaller weapons from there enemies' belts but that plan was hardly successful since it is very hard to fool a trained soldier especially when such an act of trickery as already been shouted out loud fore all to hear. At last only two men out of the many sailors who where captured that day survived. These where Elendur who was dragged to the flag ship of Gorthowr after many miles after his prompt rebellion of sorts in the temple kept alive fore the master to handle and the other man was a sailor named Gorlim who eventually made it to Elrohir's ship escaping the battle early on and delivering news of the black Numenorian's latest movements. All other sailors soon perished cut down by bright steel who went with Elendur but with them died many black Numenorians as well among them was there commander second in command to Gorthowr himself leader of that evil squadron. Thus was the sacrifice of many of the Gondorians not entirely in vain but there captain and beloved comrade Elendur was in the hands of there enemies. The soldiers of the black fleet stole much of the treasures discovered by the sailors of the white tower and actually took with them the remains of Sauron but Iluvitar did not destroy the isle then out of wrath. Maybe he did not want to slay the messengers he had sent but was waiting fore the opportune moment to strike fore he did avenge his faithful servants sailors of the white tree but only when assuredly that only his enemies followers of Mellkor still imprisoned would be obliterated by his ruinous cataclysm. Hear is a song recounting the deeds of the harrow Elendur against the captain of the black host commander of the squadron sent to destroy the Gondorian expeditionary force. It was written by a bard on the shores of the sea blessing the courage of his favorite character in song and wished to outdo the grate lays of the battle between the captain blessed by the One Eru and the servant of the foes of the king and the lord of heaven and earth. This is but a fragment of the entire song.
Set free from bondage
Eyes blazing wrathfully
The men of Gondor drove threw there foes
Like a man cuts down a tree of grate girth
Or a mariner dives his ore threw the deep waters
Chief of those heroes
Now long revered
Stood tall Elendur
Ally of our king at Sea
Humble servant of the One
Friend and commander to his fellow sailors
Brave men all
Loyal to there comrades and king of silver fountains
Who dwellith in the halls of stone
Far from the confusion of the desperate conflict
Yet So others must serve the crown
Must bleed fore its subjects
Thus did lordly Elendur take up the call
With ax of Tuor in hand he dealt the death blows
Our king would have dealt
So should we praise
The valor of the Captain of Gondor
Against him strove the nameless chieftain of Gorthowr
Black haired monster
Eyes bright with hatred
How did he stand like a wall
Striving with grand Elendur
But shining ax was stronger then unguarded flesh
And with swift strokes did that Captain of Gondor fell the foe
But still was that not enough
To stem the black tide of the shadow
Fore even then where there foes
Hungry fore there vengeance
Thus where the sailors almost entirely lost to cruel steel
More pitiless then the waves of the sea
More brilliant then the shining sun.
Then came the two guards
Tough and senseless
With there heavy clubs and knives did they assail the captain
Thus did the captain Elendur fall
Caught by his sworn enemies
Little did those fools of Mellkor know there peril
Fore one of the sailors
Gorlim the tall
Ran to elrohir
Faster then the winds of Manwe
Bringing tidings just as the captain captured reached the hands of Gorthowr
So long now recall the heroism of the fallen
Listen to the waves and imagine the mustering of desperate men
Just freed from bondage
Fight the injustice of the foes of our King
And remember Elendur greatest of mariners
Who's crafty assault even in defeat was grand and glorious
We see in this account a heroic rendition of the fall of the commander of the black squadron at Elendur's hands but only a little about the warrior Gorlim who bore his message of woe to Elrohir still docked where his master left him. Now hear is another ballad of the long run of that currier of fate in short fore it is also a very long song witch is also very popular among the nobles. Often it is heard in the high days of feasting along with the praise of our king.
When struggle was made desperate
And hope almost withered
The host of the sailors cut threw there enemies
Leading headlong to destruction
Though valiant futile
Fore all where cut down save one
Gorlim the tall
Messenger of fortune
Escaped early in the fighting fleeing not from fear
But knowing that his task had to be done
Else the quest of Eru fall to naught with Elendur's death
Still was there chance
Frail though it be
To save beloved Elendur
From the cruel hands of Gorthowr
Threw night and day the runner halted not
But strove with his weariness
Like a warrior assails a foe
Fore now was the muddy dirt dry enough to arise
As throat choking dust
Troublesome and agitating
Burning away the comforts of travel
Leaving only suffering
Even before phantom shapes
Ghosts in the dusk of evening
Still did Gorlim stride
Flying upon the muddy stone of the paved road
Feet fall like hammers
Heart pounded
Still the miles wore away
The mission of a currier almost completed
Then came the rain
Fore the days had grown slowly gloomier
The night shade of the dark clouds
Blotting out the red sun
Cooling the earth
And turning the dust to mud
Wet and as slippery as slugs and snails
But even threw the chill down poor
Even threw the blinding conditions
Still he ran
With no Lembas or elven magic to aid him
His plight was deadly dangerous
More serious then he had known
Up to that point in his fruitful life
Gorlim the swift
Champion of his sailors
Came to the long ship
Mast still flowing
Blue sea still writhing madly
On the deck of that holly vessel
Standing like a tower
Elrohir first mate
First in the esteem of his ship mates
Gazing sternly down at his ragged sweaty comrade
Draped in filthy garments
Rags of a serf
But with face of a prince
Shining with sorrow but with elegance
Undimmed by his status
Though mere simple sailor he was
Then with out preamble
Or causcion's reluctance
Gorlim the swift footed told his epic tale
And while Elrohir wondered
Sadness overwhelmed his beating heart
And the two comrades stood
Tears flowing down like a rain fall
Grieving fore there lost friends
Faithful to there mission
Till there final breath
Dying fatefully at the hands of there oppressors
Black Numenorians
Murderers unrepentant
Fore there evil deeds
Still reviled
There worship of the blackness
A topic of disgust and defilement to Eru
But now did Elrohir and his friend Gorlim bark orders
The two setting forth at once
Fore at that very hour
On some distant corner of the isle
In dungeons black and bleak
Lay there captain
Elendur faithful servant of Eru
Who's tale is sung from countryside to glen
From Ship to ship
And perhaps even over the wide sundering sea
Thus ends the two lays regarding these two historical events associated with the failed expedition to recover the treasure on land
But as You will see if you get to the end of this tale drawing toward its end the gold and heirlooms uncounted where rescued but not in the manner of excavation and exploration of old forgotten buildings. Fore all the treasure of the Numenorians where now stored a board the flag ship of the lord Gorthowr where Elendur was now held captive and where the remaining crew of the Gondorians where now heading. Other treasures there where and they too where all brought to the flag ship over night fore the sack of Armenilos had begun but not all the lost artifacts of that lost isle where ever brought back to the hands of the faithful. Most of that treasure now lies at the bottom of the ocean in Ulmo's care fore Iluvitar as has already been said was only biding his time fore the opportune moment to call down the doom of the black Numenorians on there cursed heads. Fore good or fore evil the isle was soon going to fall long before the do date that Eru had set fore it because of the cruel men of Gorthowr the wicked and of the treatment of Elendur and his faithful friends.
Chapter Seven
The dark cell bellow deck was more a kin to a castle's dungeon rather then an actual room on a vessel. Bones of long consumed chicken wings, beer bottles, and broken bits of furniture where scattered all around the cell and in the midst of all lay Elendur not bound in ropes but this time in rusty old chains. He had been dragged fore miles to Gorthowr's ship. The rain came and all the armored men blamed there prisoner of course saying that it was "Bad luck to carry a GG-ONDORIAN among the men of Mellkor." In response Elendur had spat and replied that it was "Bad luck to hinder a messenger of Iluvitar." Of course the captors only laughed and made jokes to vial and disconcerting to mention right now. Most of the time the captain had fallen asleep and was only forced to walk around when the black Numenorian's forced him to help them set up camp. Than he was forced to lie in the muck and the mire the dark mud ruining his clothing with only a day or two. He had been watched lying a cart of gold often whipped and slapped by the two thugs who had assumed command of the black host. Then he had been pushed on to a large vessel in Andunia surrounded by many other ships all with sails darker then the shades of night with men who's soles where just as black with the worship of Mellkor. Then the ships departed to scavenge the isle departing to the four corners of the continent leaving the flag ship alone. Apparently Gorthowr felt that he was reasonably safe in his colossal ship. It was enormous over trice as large and long as a typical vessel of Numenor at the time of its downfall and it was made in the likeness of the vessel o Arpharison long lost to history drowned deep or utterly crushed by the wrath of Eru. The date of departure planned fore the Gondorians by Gandalf had been now forgotten by Elendur. The beginning of the third week of the isle arising had begun at the end of witch the continent would fall but little did any man know fore sure that Iluvitar was manipulating another time close at hand from witch to deal his final fantastic ruin of his unfaithful children the black Numenorians and Elendur had no idea that Elrohir was on his way with a small but determent crew guided by Gorlim who had overheard where the "Master's" flag ship was located after there capture in Armenilos. Andunia. Andunia. Right where the sailors had met there would be killers when there exploration of the isle began. In that bay could they work another miracle? Only time would tell and the fate that awaited all those participants in that epic moment in history. Such an adventure hadn't taken place since the siege of the rebuilt Barad Dur at the dawn of that age. But now Elendur heedless of his comrades plans to spring him from captivity and now captured by his foes hardly clung to hope. Why hadn't Eru saved them all? Why did he wait? These contemplations only made matters worse. Also where was this Gorthowr. One of the thugs had returned grinning wickedly like he always seemed to do when ever he had some thought of grate evil swimming in his dense head and declared that he would be visited by the "Master" with in the next few hours in another cell meant fore such ""Visits" of interrogation. Why hadn't he been questioned already? Why did this Gorthowr want to question him in person? Then he was eventually taken from that cell by the other of the two thugs and hurled in to a plain room with only one peace of furniture one low undecorated stool. chains where then removed and politely the thug looking very pleased with himself asked the weary captain to sit and he did so with out hindrance or any beating. Then he was left alone and fore some time he waited contemplating escape but not knowing how to overwhelm the guards witch had to have been standing outside his door. At last when Elendur decided to leave his cell to die or to be bound in chains again he heard something outside that stopped him dead in his tracks. He heard a low melodic voice smooth and seductive ask the guards something that could hardly be made out something about leaving to check on there comrades upstairs and to stay there until told. "I will leave this nasty business to myself" gently said the deep voice filled with enchantment. Swiftly the guards scuttled off or so the captain guessed fore the sound of skittering feet that slowly faded away. Then the door slowly opened to reveal Gorthowr himself a tall figure bearded and with terrible shining eyes. At once Elendur realized who this stranger was. He had seen the likeness of that face many times carven in stone and drawn in pages of a thick novel published by Findagild. Wit reluctance the name of that cursed villain came to his lips and almost seemed to echo threw out that small room as though uttering that sorcerer's name was a spell of evil who's magnitude could be felt like a looming dark cloud of doom that signaled the oncoming of the vicious storm. "Morgoth." "Morgoth of Mordor." "But I am also Gorthowr the cruel" sneered the dark lord his wrinkled face projecting his loathing and bitter hatred fore the sons of Gondor who defied him long ago and helped cast him down. "I thought you where slain by Mablung of Ithillian" stammered Elendur looking fearfully in to his enemy's eyes feeling there bite like steel but dreading to look away and be thought a coward. "Not entirely" replied Morgoth unsheathing a small knife with no runic inscriptions or devices that where readily discernible to resemble any language of any sort engraved on the blade. The hilt of that knife was bound with a cord of leather and no cross bar or tinny pommel of any sort was there to be scene. "I put much of my strength in to this small blade" murmured the dark lord almost to himself now obverting his icy gaze to his handy work. "I forged it you realize on my own just as Sauron forged the One Ring and like that other dark lord I made this blade in the fires of Orodruin cutting anew path to the cracks of doom." "It is very silly of you to do such a thing" countered the captain of the Gondorians seeing a point from witch to draw an advantage. "To put all your strength in that one object is madness fore if any one where to take it and cast it in to the fires where it was wrought then you shall be destroyed." "I know that to be honest fore once" growled the cruel voice of Morgoth that shook the very foundations of the human spirit. "But no other can weald this knife or touch it with out grate hurt to themselves and it was not on my body when I went out to fight against Eldarian whom I laid low." "It was only by trickery that I was slain by Mablung." "This knife was left in the utmost chamber of my tower with the Palantir and no one searched Barad Dur." "No you fools just toppled it but even then I was not fully slain." "Sure my body was slain but no matter fore I have returned and have taken my true form." "Fore I am an Estari a wizard of the order most excellent and wondrous in Arda." "With the gold witch you and your friends so kindly packed fore all of us as well as the other heirlooms and treasures of grate worth that can be sold yet to be gathered I will build an empire in the south." "Then when my army is raised I will reenter Mordor and lay low all the west before you or any of your comrades can do any thing about it." "But it seems you have got wind of Numenor's rising" laughed the Estari eyes flashing like beacons far off but equally as bright and penetrating casting light on the shadows of the night witch now closed about the waning kingdom far off. Taking this small knife the dark lord suddenly pressed it against Elendur's neck and promptly asked as though the captain had a choice in the matter "You don't mind if we begin the questioning now do you?" "I thought not." "Ok where am I going to begin" he added tilting his head to one side as though thinking. "O yes" he said at length now grinning revealing yellow fangs rather then teeth "How was it that your king realized that the money pit and museum trove of Numenor resurfaced?" Unwavering with out flinching Elendur answered truthfully. "I was sent not by Amandil King of our people but rather by Iluvitar and in extension the Valar threw the wise messenger of none other then Mithrandir I presume." Looking now a little troubled but still holding his knife to his victim's throat the dark lord snorted "You lie sailor of the white tower" failing to mask his dismay. The knife then slipped from his hands and Morgoth held Elendur down with his grate arms and screamed "Who sent you?" "Who sent you?" But before he could do serious harm to his victim a voice from somewhere out of they way replied "He told you." "Why don't you listen?" Spinning around Morgoth and Elendur both noticed fore the first time an old man leaning on a long wooden staff wearing a brilliant white robe. ""Olorin" yelled Gorthowr. "olorin." "How did you get here?" ""I was picked up by a few friends of mine" mysteriously said the famous wizard. "They have just stopped by to say hello." Upstairs sounds of conflict could be heard. Elendur could clearly hear the ringing of steel clashing against steel and the screaming of charging soldiers launching in to the fray. "O they sound very friendly" sarcastically chuckled the captain of Gondor realizing that the people who had found Gandalf and had brought him hear where doubtlessly Elrohir and his remaining men. Just as the first mate reached the bay and saw the flag ship a small vessel far off was suddenly drawn close by do to a strong gale from the west despite the fact that there was no storm approaching before and during witch such gusts of wind often come to trouble sailors and those who dwell near the waves of the rushing sea. In that boat where two elves and Gandalf of course and the wizard had boarded the gondorian ship and bad his elvish companions farewell fore the present.. Only the man on the crows nest saw the vessel out of Valenor in the distance. Now the assault had begun and the flag ship of Gorthowr stormed by a grate press of armed men bent on rescuing there captain and slaying who ever this master of the black fleet was fore even the wizard could only guess his true identity. Indeed Gandalf had not slain or tried to slay the cursed dark lord right away just to discover who the master of the black fleet was and what where his plans in capturing a previously unknown captain of Gondor save by his own fellow Sailors of the white tower of course. Now the wizard of the West knew that his premonition was correct. This new dark lord was Morgoth the second king of the black land of Mordor long ago and Estari of the far east. The two wizards stared back at one another pondering in what way to begin that gruesome battle of sorcery but then the Estari Olorin Mithrandir whom the men of the north call Gandalf stepped back a few steps and attempted to outdo his enemy with mere words. "Go back palando" barked the old man's deep commanding voice. "Go back corrupt Mia who has dared make yourself an enemy of the free peoples of Arda witch you where to serve in the beginning." "Morgoth you called yourself now your title is Gorthowr but you are Palando and you have betrayed your mission to protect the children of Iluvitar who still remain with in the confines of the world." "Iluvitar remembers your task and so does Manwe." "I was sent by Eru and the Valar to uncover who this darkness was though we wondered whether it was you who could return." "Blind where we by your trickery calling yourself Gorthowr thinking that perhaps Sauron had returned fore that new name witch you bare was Sauron's given to him by the Sindarin Elves." "Now you are unmasked and the eyes of the Valar and of Eru burning with furry against you." "Attempt to defy us in battle and you will fall Palando I worn you." "Even now the wrath of Eru is preparing to drive you to the depths." "The time is drawing near I can feel it and I believe you can too." No physical blows had been struck but the evil wizard Morgoth seemed to quaver under his opponent's remarks as though fully understanding his peril with a clarity that only a dying man perceives seeing that his actions has lead him to that end. Perhaps he knew that fate stronger then his black iron will was manipulating that day and that his own end was coming near. In that moment Eru used Elendur as his divine instrument in his retribution. Seeing that his foe was distracted and that the knife of the Estari was lying on the floor at the wizard's feet, the captain of the Gondorians beloved by Iluvitar clasped the knife and drove it deep in to the cruel Estari's back. With a shriek the enemy fell and his spirit fled to waste places and was lost but not destroyed fore the knife still remained intact. As the sailor held it then it scorched his hand and it was burnt at once but then fore the very first time under the heat of that Estari's blood the blade revealed runes glowing as red as the fires of doom itself remote yet clear. No man knows what they now say but that is hardly the present issue of discussion fore at that turning point in the fortunes of the Gondorians the green mounting wave meant to overwhelm the isle was released. Threw a small window both Elendur and Gandalf looked in horror as they saw that colossal title wave come rolling up to swallow all of Numenor crushing all to the depths of the see. Fighters where now bellow decks as well and they too must have seen the wave or heard its oncoming fore it aroused a mighty clamor like to the war cry of Oroma himself fore they also stopped battling on another gazing in mesmerized fascination of that terrible cite of oncoming cataclysm. The captain stared in to his wizard friend's eyes and saw there only pity and understanding not fear. That wizard had died once before after his duel with the Balrog of Moria and knew what to expect. But then when all seemed lost a strong gust of chill wind sent the vessel flying away from the wave speeding like a thunderbolt more powerful then the enchanted gale that drove Gandalf to the men of the vessel of Elendur. Swiftly the winds sped that long ship flying away from the crashing waters that abruptly fell from on high overwhelming all fore good save the Menil Tarma of course, knocking towers that still stood down, and sinking many treasures that should have fallen in to the safety of mortal hands of the king. The rushing waters swelled around the ship as it sped threw the deep blue ocean forcing the vessel to tremble violently back and forth, hurling men over, and even making the sailors with the most experience sea sick beyond belief. The pain of Elendur's wound was steadily growing. It developed from a mere faint echo of a paper cut's bite, to a throbbing aching sensation that took the breath out of any warrior who had dared weald it in combat since its discovery among the ruins of Barad Dur by one nameless spy of the wizard. Yes plenty of mortal men attempted to knife the Estari with his own blade failing bitterly not possessing the strength of Iluvitar that flowed threw Elendur in that fateful hour of destiny. At last the turmoil the sheer agony of the wound was so consuming that the captain shrieked fore assistance, his face turning red, his head stricken with dizziness staring out the window at the waters of Ulmo rushing past in wrath like a child's worst nightmare of the sea's destructive power seeing ungovernable unpredictable waves clashing together and apart randomly just as armies collide and scatter in large hosts upon the battle field. The white wizard Olorin also known as Gandalf came soon to his side examining his wound with care and precision as a doctor might wish to take a closer look at one's most distressing injury. The last thing that Elendur saw before the darkness of unconsciousness took him was the lined face of the wizard looking at him and at his sword arm his eyes boring in to the captain's at times and then returning to stare at the burns on the sailor's hand. The commandeered vessel of the black Numenorians had already landed at its destination that lonely island with its light house when the hearty captain of grate renown woke again to a bright morning. Thus ended the expedition of Elendur son of Earendur to recover the lost heirlooms and countless treasures of the Numenorians.
Chapter Eight
In a small room high in the tower of the light house of the black Numenorians where news of the return of Gandalf first reached mortal ears, a bed was set and on it lay fore entire days Elendur caught in a deadly malediction brought about by the wielding of that cursed knife. When he awoke the first person he saw again was the wizard of course his long white beard flowing down like the shafts of light that came shooting down from the round window and certain small cracks in the stone walls threw witch rain sometimes came before they where patched that very day fore the protection of the captain fore luckily no storm assailed the men of the white tower who dwelled there fore a time weighting fore there captain to grow well again. Elrohir had allowed the black Numenorians to sail back to Gondor unharmed with a few trusty sailors to receive the judgment of the king. All of the enemies had sworn oaths bbb0the name of Eru in who's trust they now believed fervently since the destruction of there fleet and the grate isle. Many of them also wanted to start a new life away from the rigid chain of command in the country if Amandil still would allow this. The malaise that had driven them was now distant and but a shadow on men's hearts. Soon another ship would arrive and everyone would return even the captain if he wasn't well enough since better medical care could be found in the king's house then in the wild amidst the encircling waves. Now Gandalf came to Elendur's bed side and sat in the chair that had been set in that top most chamber long before. Remarkably the ancient wood still supported a fully grown man's body weight and the wizard was able to enlighten the baffled man before him of all that had happened witch I have just summarized fore you all. Then talk turned to the knife of Palando the blade of Morgoth. "he said that he was able to carve a new entrance to the firs of doom but how this was done with in his brief time in Mordor I can not say" rambled on the wizard looking far off mind racing threw the troubles of the world like it used to. "Could the dark lord really return" asked the captain looking concerned at the Estari and then his scorched hand. Fore a long while Gandalf could provide no answer but only sat pondering what course the men of Gondor should take. At length he replied. "yes. "yes." "In time if that knife is not destroyed then he will return." "Then there is no other road we can now take" said Elendur looking grave and stern but also resolute knowing that what he suggested was right. "I need to take this thing and cast in the very fires where it was wrought just like Frodo Baggins." "I hope that my road will be less dangerous then his and I dread the prospect of walking opened eyed in to the very heart of the black land." "Spies of the lost shadow may still walk there if one of Morgoth's servants was able to recover the dark lord's blade.." "Indeed you must go fore the well being of your people and all free folk depend entirely on your fortune in this matter." "Eru goes with you and I believe that you will have a less perilous road then the ring bearers since the threat you face is far less serious then it might be." "After you are healed of the evil of this cursed knife always keep it in your own leather sheath." "What have you done with the remains of Sauron and Morgoth" asked Elendur now deliberately changing the subject away from these dark matters that concerned himself. "Both bones and corpse have been dumped in to the depths from whence I hope the sea consumes them fore all time" bleakly stated Gandalf now turning aside to stare at the ocean wondering where exactly in some bed of sand far bellow the serfice of the water lay that rotting body and those black bones. "I will choose companions to go with you on your expedition" mused the wizard finally getting back to the point at hand. "Elrohir needs a break" grumbled the captain. "I know he does and realize that he will want time with his family as he deserves." "Yet I believe that if he understands the gravity of the issue then he will go." "After all I doubt this mission will take very long." "Gondor is right on the fringes of the black land." "I will go with you to oversee this last task of mine." "And remember" added Gandalf seeing that his friend was looking calmer now that he was going with him "As I said to Frodo long ago keep it secret and keep it safe." Reluctantly Elendur nodded and soon fell sleep once again hoping to forget fore awhile the burdens of the world and his last task fore the One Eru to help guide him threw. But at least the captain had one comfort as the new knife barer, at least he had the wizard with him to help him this time.
Epilog
The unending eternal blackness of the winding cave appeared to go on fore ever or so thought elrohir faithful servant and friend of Elendur who walked closely beside Gandalf farther a head. Then just when he thought that he couldn't go any farther the shadows where driven away and replaced suddenly by a fiery red glow that loomed up from around a sharp corner. Holding his breath the trio halted looking to one another to see if all where prepared fore the mission. The wizard's eyes bored in to the knife bearer’s and then diverged both old face and younger looking reserved and confident. ""Everybody ready" asked Elrohir hoping fore some kind of verbal confirmation of his companion's resolve. But his friends could hardly hear him and there answer was lost because of the monstrous noise the fires of the mountain made in that hour. It sounded like the slow roar of the engines of a million machines all at once and the explosions of many bombs landing on and demolishing the walls of a mighty besieged castle. Why didn't they hear the sounds of this tumult only the wisest can now say. Perhaps the enemy placed a magic on that spot to prevent any from hearing the cracks of doom until it's glow could be spotted fore fear of strangers finding the fires with in discovering a way to destroy his life force fore ever. Indeed the enchantment of that mysterious cave entrance is yet to be completely understood but no men dare venture near the mountain now and that entrance has been destroyed by the overwhelming lava that emerged from the heart of the mountain when the knife was at last unmade. Creeping carefully around the cave's corner Gandalf, elrohir, and Elendur beheld a small ledge a head that ran fore some distance at the very edge of witch was a long drop that ended where the pitiless lava met the side of the rock's face boiling madly sending forth small waves of supper heated magma upwards to consume huge chunks of the wall like a wave will slowly erode the beach to witch it often collides. The heat of that place was also stifling. It felt to all there persons standing now in the door way that they could hardly breath and fore a long while all of them wizard and mortal companions stood astounded. Hear in the depths of time the dark lord Sauron somewhere around this spot forged the One Ring and in mockery of this forging the lord Morgoth carved a path threw the mountain to around the same spot and made his ruling knife. The remains of what once had been kind of a metal bridge enhanced with hard stone and spells of endurance was there far away to the left witch all eyes had missed. Down that bridge the wizard must have walked to the very edge of it's farthest point close enough fore a mortal to be vaporized by the flames but not an Estari protected by magic armor designed fore his protection. There he would have forged his knife using what craft he possessed and the dark lord would have some how placed much of his native strength in to it maybe spilling some of his blood in to the very metal of that wicked blade along with spells of enchantment. Now like Sauron's precious ring the destruction of this blade would mean its maker's undoing. With out a word Elendur walked up to the edge of the cliff and stared downwards at the fires bellow, then to the side to see the magic bridge, and back to his companions looking back worried. Fore a moment it seemed like the man hesitated fore some how the captain of his hearty crew seemed to wonder if this knife could enhance his power. Indeed if he took it could he become the greatest mariner in history. Such thoughts had never entered Elendur's head before but then he remembered his wizard friend's words and struggled with the temptation to claim the blade fore his own. At last holding the knife by its leather sheath not daring to touch the blade's hilt with his bare hand dreading it's most terrible malediction, he tossed the blade in to the fiery chasm bellow. Far below the knife seemed to hang on the serfice of the lava reluctant to succumb to become nothing reluctant to betray its master but gradually it slowly dissolved until at last it was no more. Then as anticipated the fires of doom welled up to overwhelm the three figures who had entered the mountain's very core and dared destroy the might of the lord of darkness. At once Elrohir came to his friend's side and pulled him away from the torrents of fire that suddenly leapt up. Gandalf then lead them down the long dark cave men panting, wizard smiling gleefully. They had succeeded. No matter what happened after this they had done there duty. Palando would never again return to trouble the free peoples of Arda ever again. Turning his head behind Elrohir saw the fiery glow of the cracks of doom and knew that soon the entire cave would be engulfed in lava and Elendur, Gandalf and himself all slain by the fires of doom if the exit wasn't scene soon. Pondering this thought he then recalled the wizard's long winded speech that he gave to Elendur before they entered the dark tunnel. At the end of that hasty address the vigorous Estari said "It is probable that the cracks of doom will ignite in sudden flame when you dispose of the knife but I assure friends of ours will rescue us if that happens." Then the knife barer had asked "But how do you know this?" In that hour the wizard looked deadly serious and all he would say was that one of the lords of the west the Valar told him this in his sleep. Any more information he would not divulge. Now the fear of the trio that set out with the knife of doom was realized and death near to all fore the moment any one of them lagged behind would be the moment that individual would likely meet his end in the midst of shadow and flame and terrible torment. Just when it seemed that all hope was lost and that the lava would consume them, the men and the wizard saw the pale light of day outside. Elendur and Elrohir ran like they never ran before and it seemed almost as though Gandalf was jogging so fast that he was flying rather then glancing swiftly over the hot stone. When they reached the end of the cave to every bodies surprise save Gandalf of course, three lordly eagles cam down from on high as though they had been waiting fore them all the time. These three eagles where known as the witnesses of Manwe and it is said in many tales that they often where seen on the peek of the Menil Tarma except on days of festival. Before Elendur or his mortal friend could shout out two eagles swooped down first and with there talons grabbed up both of them barely missing the flames that now came poring out of the tunnel's entrance. Gandalf on the other hand was picked up last wishing to put his friends first above his own safety and was almost overwhelmed when he was at last rescued by the largest of these three most glorious birds. High above the ruin and destruction those eagles flew until the Morgul valley was almost like a miniature child's play set and the mountain but the size of a small bole turned upside down. Only the wizard was not stricken with amazement and awe fore he had traveled with the eagles before on other occasions and was used to there customs and culture better then any other person imaginable save Radagast perhaps. The two sailors could only have dreamed of such magnificence. Fore a long while the tree figures where carried fore some distance but at length the Estari Olorin also known as Gandalf turned to Elendur and Elrohir and said "My task hear in Middle Earth is done." "I will return to the blessed realm and you must go on with your lives as originally intended." "But Gondor needs your guidance" protested Elrohir looking grievously disappointed. "She does but I must say that you companion of shipwrights who long to be free of the sea will never walk aboard a vessel again fore your wisdom shall be needed by many and sought after and admired even more then my own." Weeping elrohir nodded and didn't say any more to his deer old friend concerning staying in Middle Earth but Elendur asked the wizard with laden heart and head buzzing with new insecurities "I went to Numenor on a mission to recover artifacts and found there more then heirlooms and gold." "I found that my men are more deer to me then all of these precious things with a clarity that I shall never behold again." "Tell me Gandalf will my men receive the time with there families the money to live out there lives in peace?" "Yes one day all your sailors will be more wealthy then the king and your first mate Elrohir as I have already declared the king's councilor." "These things are evident to me and I bless you all." "Do not let your heart be troubled fore you have done your very best and have succeeded." "don't worry about your sailors who will be recognized by the king and widely respected not to mentioned paid large sums of money thrice grater then you could hope." "And you Elendur will be renown as the mightiest mariner since Earendil." With that final remark from the Estari the eagle baring the wizard flew away westward and steadily grew smaller in the distance. When the wizard and the eagle where so far off that where but a spec on the horizon both captain renown and future councilor heard Gandalf's voice from far off enhanced by some magic unknown to mortal men. ""Farewell my friends." "Please remember all that you have learned and trust in my words." "The foresight of Gandalf has hardly been so potent then in our last conversation." "Good by." And with that all sight of that tiny speck that hardly visible bird clutching the wizard vanished and no sign of Mithrandir has ever been seen since but I must tell you that the wizard's words where indeed true. Elrohir tired of the sea went in to politics and eventually became chief advisor to Amandil and later the king's son Arathorn the second. All the sailors became wealthy and public heroes who's deeds where noted by the king himself and all the companions of Elendur where able to retire and spend the rest of there lives with there families. As was foretold the captain knife barer was famous fore his exploits and took part in many more expeditions and it is rumored that Elendur might have even used his maps to find the Menil Tarma again and it is also said that at the hour of his death he sailed to Eru's mountain with a few guards where he was berried with the blessing of both the Valar and Iluvitar.
Here Follow the words engraved on the blade of Morgoth faithless and cursed transcribed by Elrohir heated in the flames of a small fire outside the fortress of the Black Numenorians while Elendur remained dazed from his assault on the might of the dark lord.
With this blade strength is my own
Unyielding, dominating, and utterly overcoming all others
No other may contest this power
my power
No mortal grate or small can ever supplant me
Fore I am king alone
Masterful and Godly
Only I can bring order and peace through threat of force
One knife to drive my will
One knife to slay all that stand as obstacles
One knife to draw man's blood
So that in my blackness I will drive them
To dark abbess
Remotely deep
From whence man's weaknesses are revealed
Enshrouded
And made my weapons of rule
and death
One knife to cast down the foolish rival
One knife to achieve absolute order
One knife to make man bow their shoulders
Under my oppressive weight of doom
One knife to make me lord
One knife to increase my golden hoard
One knife more adamant then any sword
Fore in it my strength is bound
The End
No comments:
Post a Comment