28.

            The arrival of the Elven King’s flotilla upon the banks of Osgiliath was not, perhaps, so impressive a sight as it might have been, had it been welcomed with all the pomp and ceremony the Prince of Emyn Arnen could have imparted upon it; for instead of the pavilions, rank and file of ceremonial guards, and many bands of musicians, Thranduil met only Faramir and Belecthor upon the dock; though the people of Ithilien eagerly thronged about, desiring to see this great and terrible lord of legend.  Bergil had not yet managed to trace the Lords Eradan and Egalmoth to inform them of the change of strategy, so Faramir and Belecthor had decided to forego the spectacle and pageantry planned and retreat behind the walls of war’s proprieties. But to do the Elven King honor, lined in rank behind the Lord of Emyn Arnen were row upon row of knights in gleaming armour, their brilliant surcoats blossoming like so many strange flowers upon the green lawn, pennants streaming and snapping in the north wind.  Foremost amongst these knights was Lasgalen of Dale, flanked upon either side by Aldamir of Amon Din and Cirien of Langstrand, his green banner floating proudly between the yellow and red of those knights’ houses.  Behind him were Mardil of Ethring and Araval of Tarlang, whose esquires bore the ensigns of those lands in silver and dun.  Upon a stout hill pony beside Araval’s esquire Hador sat Gimli the Dwarf, and before him upon the saddle was Bandobras Took.  The Dwarf was clad in his short mail coat, his axe at his side, and the Hobbit was dressed in his finest waistcoat and breeches. Their pony’s tack had been rubbed with oil, and Bandobras had combed his mane and tail, and brushed his coat until it gleamed.  “Thistle may not be so great a horse as Hatchet and these other knights’ destriers,” he’d said to Gimli before they left, “but I’ll not have anyone sneering at him, that I won’t!”  Thistle himself, being a pony of calm and phlegmatic disposition, did not comment upon this, but only swished his brown tail and champed carelessly on his bit.

            “How nice it shall be to see the Elven King and Queen again!” the Hobbit said to Gimli as the great golden barges approached the docks.  “It has been so long since we were in his golden halls, and so much has happened between then and now.  I wonder if they will find me much changed?”

            Gimli snorted.  “Changed?  In what ways have you changed, Bandy?  You are just as capricious and talkative as ever.”

            “Well, I did kill a man,” said Bandobras deprecatingly.  “That ought to leave some sort of mark on me, oughtn’t it?  I do feel different, you know.  Not so young as I once was, even if I haven’t achieved my majority yet.  I feel more . . . more grown-up now, I suppose.”

            Gimli looked down at the curly brown head before him and sighed.  “Well, Bandy, I hope then you have not changed for any worse,” he said, “for though you have seen combat, I would not have you lose your bright ways and nimble tongue for anything.  I should not know what to do with you then.”

            Bandobras craned his neck round to look at the Dwarf in surprise.  “Wouldn’t you?” he asked.  “I always thought you wanted me to act more refined-like, using proper speech and manners and such.  But if you say so, then, Gimli, I’ll try not to grow up too fast.  After all,” he added cheerfully, “I’m not even in my ‘tweens’ yet, so hopefully no one’ll think any worse of me for not acting like a full-grown Hobbit.”

            “And if they do,” muttered Gimli, roughly ruffling the Halfling’s curls, “They shall have to answer to Gimli the Dwarf!”

            There was a great swell of trumpets and horns then, and the foremost barge, carved and gilded and painted in bright colors, hove to while nimble green-clad elves darted upon the quay and secured it, running with agile feet up the ropes and stays.  A great crimson plank was lowered, and the Elven King and his Queen stepped upon it.  All the people leant forward eagerly to see him, for Thranduil Oropherion was the stuff of legend, a shadowy and mysterious presence hidden in the dark eaves of the Haunted Wood far to the north, a mighty and ruthless warrior, and a stern lord of a secretive and enigmatic people.

            He strode purposefully down to the quay, his pale and lovely queen upon his arm; he was clad not in robes nor doublet nor any other finery but was armed from pauldron to greaves in rich dark armour, ancient yet formidable, though upon his golden head was no helm but a heavy mithril crown studded with pale green gems.  His queen was clad in raiment of white, though she wore heavy gauntlets and her bodice was made of fine fish-scale armour.  White were her hood and cloak, and a thin gold filament bound her pale silvery locks back from her fair forehead.  Both wore swords bound at their hips, testament to the immediacy of their accords with Gondor.  Behind them was a great array of Elven knights and archers, leading large dark horses caparisoned with metal trappers, their coarse manes and tails braided and tied with green ribbon.  The Elven King and Queen paused at the foot of the dock, and Faramir with Belecthor at his side approached them.  Faramir bowed deeply and said,  “Welcome to Ithilien, Thranduil Oropherion and Queen Edlothiel, beloved of Eryn Lasgalen!  Never did I think this day would come upon me, that I should be blessed to meet the lord of the northern realms.”

            Thranduil bowed, and Edlothiel curtseyed.  “Hail and well met, Faramir son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor and Prince of Emyn Arnen!” said Thranduil gravely.  “My heart rejoices at this meeting, but would be lighter were the threats to your northern fiefdoms less.  Now is not the time for fair speech or merry-making, for the hour is late.  Come!  Let us meet together and decide how we may liberate and relieve your people, that the peace of Gondor may be upheld.”

            Faramir led the Elven King and his councilors through the crowds to a pavilion erected hastily upon the lawn.  In there Belecthor had placed a large wooden table and chairs, and many rolled maps were set therein.  The people dispersed, feeling as though they had been offered a tantalizing glimpse of a great and delicious feast but were denied to partake of it.  Around the table were placed Thranduil and his queen, Faramir and Belecthor, with the jovial Galás beside them, and also Mardil, Cirien, Araval with Hador behind him, and Aldamir.  Beregond stood behind his lord, and behind Thranduil stood a tall dark elf, Baranil, who was captain of his militia. Gimli sat beside the Green Knight, and Bandobras, after a fierce look from the Dwarf, reluctantly took his place behind his Master.  Faramir rose and looked at Belecthor, who upon seeing the Green Knight was still obscured by his helm colored deeply and rose as well.

            “I shall leave you then, my lords,” he said hastily, “for I see this is not my place to intrude.”

            “Please stay, Lord Belecthor!” said the Green Knight from behind his frogmouth.  “I beg you, do not quit us yet, for we may have need of your council.  ‘Many hands make light the labor,’ as it is said in my country.  My Lady, Queen Edlothiel, will you not look upon the countenance of this lord of Gondor to descry his heart?  For I know you see into the souls of men, whether they be true or no, and though I have not your talents I foresee no reason to doubt his honor.”

            “It is true; I have been given the gift of keen insight,” said the Queen, “and can determine a traitor from a patriot in one glance.”  Edlothiel fixed Belecthor with a compassionate eye.  “I should not do this without his permission, however,” she said, her voice soft and warm as a summer zephyr.  “I am not in my own court, where the cares and concerns of my Lord require deep knowledge of clear consciences.  But, Lord Belecthor, know you that the Green Knight is generous in offering you his confidence.”

            “Then I would not deny him it,” said Belecthor stoutly.  “I have nothing to hide, from Elf nor Man, nor even from Dwarf nor Halfling.  Search me therefore, your Majesty!  I welcome the opportunity to serve my Lord with his full faith.”

            “My trust in you did not waver upon yourself but upon these circumstances,” said Faramir.  “I beg you to understand that in full, good Belecthor.”

            “So I do, and I require no apology from you,” said the Ceremonies Master.  “When Egalmoth and Eradan arrivve I am sure they will comply as well, for we long to be in your confidences.”

            “Very well, then!” said Edlothiel.  “Come here, good Belecthor.”

            Trembling but resolute the Ceremonies Master approached the Elven Queen.   As he stood before her, clenching and unclenching his fists nervously she rose and looked full upon his face.  She was slight and slim, and in her fair white face her eyes shone like the pale light of the moon, yet all felt that her frail frame housed a stern soul as a fair sheath hides a sharp blade.  She studied him gravely a moment, then gave a light laugh and kissed him upon the forehead.

            “Well met indeed, Lord Belecthor!” she said, smiling.  “I perceive no darkness in you.  You may join our assembly knowing in you rests our full assurance.”

            “Thank you, your Majesty!” gasped Belecthor, eyes wide with wonder.  “How fortunate are we to be given such a gift as your presence bestows, one of beauty and keen perception combined!  Now we have but to parade those mistrusted men before you and you shall test them and know their hearts in but an instant.  Would that you had arrived a week before these unhappy events unfolded!  Then perhaps my poor Tournament would have been completed without interruption.”

            “Perhaps,” smiled Edlothiel, “though it is not so easy to descry the dark secrets of men in great assemblies.  Lest I gaze into the eyes of each man their evil remains undisclosed to me.  But with these words I may assure all who sit here that your intentions are for good and not ill, and you may be trusted, even with the visage of the Green Knight himself.”

            “Good!” said Lasgalen of Dale.  “It is difficult to conduct a council behind steel bars.”  At that Gimli and Bandobras unlatched his frogmouth and lifted it from his head.  He sighed and pulled off the arming cap.  “Ah, that is better!” he said, smiling and rising.  “Now I may greet my Lord and Lady in more proper fashion.”  So saying he rose and went to the Elven King and Queen, kneeling before them.  “Mae govannen!  Nae saian luumé.” *

            “Oio naa elealla alassé,” ** said Thranduil, laying a hand upon his son’s head, and Edlothiel raised Legolas’ face to hers and she kissed him.  “What is this, Legolas Thranduilion?” she asked, laying one long finger upon the stitched-up scar on his cheek.

            “The remuneration of jousting, my Lady,” said Legolas.  “It is nothing.”  When Bandobras gave a disbelieving snort Legolas turned to him and smiled.  “You said yourself, my Bandobras, that had the silk not yet been in my skin you could not have seen the wound.  How could it then have been a serious hurt?”

            “Ah!  Now you are trying to distract me,” smiled the Queen.  “I shall get the full tale from good Bandobras later, shall I not, dear Little One?”

            “As you wish, my Lady!” said Bandobras, jumping in surprise and bowing hastily.

            “But he is become so formal!” exclaimed Thranduil, looking at Bandobras.  “Legolas, you have ruined him; where is the Hobbit-child who scrambled upon our laps and made off with our scepters?  All I see here is an esquire full-grown.”

            Bandobras flushed with pleasure, and Legolas said, “It is all the doing of my dear friend Gimli, who has taken upon himself the task of taming one of the wild Shire-folk so that they are unrecognizable to even their own kin.”

            “He’d be even more unrecognizable, were I able to have my full way with him,” muttered Gimli.

            Belecthor was gazing upon Legolas’ visage, his eyes alight, a smile upon his lips.  “Ah!” he said.  “So the riddle is unwound.  This is the answer to all the King’s folded phrases!  I had bethought perhaps you were a young Dúnedan, a kinsman of his from the North; now though I recognize you as his Elvish friend from the War.  I see now why you obscured your face from us!  Though I wish you had not; perhaps things would not have gone quite so ill for you had all known you for who you are.”

            Legolas shrugged.  “If I had, who knows what would have happened?  Public denunciation, perchance.  I was unwilling to risk it, if not for my own sake at least for my Lord Father’s reputation.  You are not wroth with me then?”

            “Why should I be?” asked Belecthor in surprise.  “In my view you are as qualified as any lord of Gondor to be an entrant; you are certainly more than able to hold your own amongst your fellow combatants!  Nay, Lord Legolas, I welcome you now as I would have welcomed you before, had I known your rightful name.”

            “Egalmoth was unwilling to allow him, unknown as he was,” reminded Faramir.

            Belecthor sniffed.  “Egalmoth has little regard for knights and lords of lands other than Gondor,” he said.  “Do not let it trouble you!  It is merely one of his little fads.”

            “Now, then,” said Faramir, drawing their attention to him and unrolling a map, upon which was laid out Ithilien, the western bank of the Anduin, and Amon Din up to Eilenach.  “Show us, I beg you, your Majesty, where the villages were that fell to our enemies.”

            “Here, and here,” said Thranduil, laying his finger upon two spaces in the meads between the River and Druadan Forest.  “And my scouts returned to me not an hour ago, saying they came upon slain men in the armour of Minas Tirith – black surcoats with silver trees, surmounted by stars.”

            “The King’s patrols!” exclaimed Beregond.  “So they were indeed overcome as we feared.”

            “Aye, good captain; it appears the soldiers of the enemy are taking no chances alerting Lord Faramir of their presence, though they have not been able to subjugate their baser instincts to burn and pillage,” said the Elven King.  “I am sure they felt confident they would not be discovered for some weeks, when more patrols were sent out.  It is by happy chance alone my people have caught them.”

“Were any of my people left alive?” asked Aldamir.

“No, we found none,” said Thranduil.  “But many of the bodies my scouts found were men, farmers and merchants by the look of them; that leads me to believe the women and children have been carried off.”

            “Ill news,” muttered Aldamir, “but not so bad as it could have been.  How far west did your scouts penetrate, your Majesty?  To Amon Din itself?”

            “Of those scouts I have not yet heard,” said Thranduil.  “I am expecting them back soon though.  They will be able to tell us how large a company this is, that marches so brazenly across other lords’ lands, burning and kidnapping as they go.”

            “As far as we can tell, the villages and fields themselves have been razed,” said the Queen, her fair face sad.  “So even should we free those unhappy citizens, where shall they go, Lord Faramir?  Autumn nips upon the heels of summer, and I fear me there is not time enough for them to construct adequate shelter against the winds of winter.”

            “My Lady and I have thought of that already,” said Faramir.  “Though a ruin, Osgiliath is sufficient to shelter them.  We were planning to have the people of the nearby villages live in the ruins of Osgiliath for the duration of this battle; it is large enough to house at least two hundred more people than that.  We have several months to see to repairing sundry walls and rooms; that will be adequate space for them to live comfortably.  In fact that is where Lady Éowyn and Queen Undómiel are now: overseeing the organization of the housing for the folk not only of Ithilien here, but those of the outlying villages that have been beset by this army.  What concerns me is the burning of their silos and ricks.  Where shall I find food enough to nourish them?  The Pelennor has not had enough years of plenty to provide enough extra for all these poor refugees.”

            “My people will care for them,” said Legolas.  “Galás and I have already discussed this.  He brings with him food and supplies, meant to tide us over ‘til spring, but we believe that to succor the people of Ithilien is a more pressing need.”

            “And if you will, stay in Osgiliath with them,” said Faramir.  “Now more than ever shall we have need of the merry voices and songs of your people!  My heart burns for my folk; I am all the more determined to hunt down this aggressor and punish him fully for his crimes.”

            Before another in the assembly could reply to this, Bergil burst into the tent, wild-eyed and pale.  “Father!” he cried.  “My Lord, my Lord!  I have found Egalmoth!”  And so saying he burst into tears.

            “What is it?” cried Beregond, striding round to him and taking him by the shoulders.  “Tell us, and quickly!”

            “O, he is dead!” wept Bergil, wringing his hands.  “He and Targil both – I heard they had gone to Eradan’s quarters, so I followed there, but when I arrived there was naught but ruined furniture and blood – and those two men, lying with broken weapons in the midst.”

            “Egalmoth, dead!” cried Faramir, leaping to his feet.  “What of Eradan?  What of him, where is he?”

            “I know not, my Lord!” said Bergil in dismay.  “I fear he has been taken as well, for I could see no sign of him.  And ere Lord Egalmoth breathed his last, as I knelt beside him, he said only to me, ‘Orodreth!’ and then closed his eyes in death.”

            Beregond ran from the pavilion, and could be heard speaking to men outside; after a moment he came back in.  “The lion has fled, my Lords, your Majesties!” he cried angrily.  “A great company of men on horseback has just broken the gates of the Tent City down, and they are riding with great haste to the north, running down all who try to arrest them.”

            “Have any of your soldiers followed?”

            “Nay, my Lord; all were busy with the muster, leaving none to guard the gates.  Besides we were looking for assault from without not within.  This is a hard thing, Lord Faramir!  To lose two of the King’s councilors in this fashion is very suspicious.  I have sent men to question Orodreth, but I doubt not we shall find his rooms vacated.”

            “Well, then, we have no time left to waste upon speculation, have we?” said the Elven King.  “Lord Faramir, it is my suggestion we empty the surrounding villages as quickly as possible, hiding your people behind the walls of Osgiliath.  My Queen will see to the placement of a hundred of our archers, should you desire them.  I know that you have started your muster; will your men be ready at sunrise?”

            “They will,” said Faramir.  “We have but to wait for your scouts to return and we shall be ready to ride.”

            “If they return at all!” said Cirien.  “Will not these men hunt them down and destroy them also?”

            “Whom did you send, my Lord?” asked Legolas of his father. 

            “Meivel, Himbaláth, and Kaimelas,” said the Elven King.

            “Ah!” smiled Legolas.  “They are good scouts, secretive and canny.  You need fear no ill for them, Lord Cirien.  They shall return with news soon enough.”

            “Why can we not ride immediately?” asked Galás impatiently.

            “It will be dark ere long,” said Legolas.  “We do not have the time to muster these men together before the sun sets.”

            “Could we not march at night then?” asked the Elf.  “It galls me to let these murderous men run so far afield.”

            “Our people are not as your people, good Galás,” said Cirien with a smile.  “We do not see in the darkness as clearly as do you, and we would have to march with torches and lights, thus alerting the enemy to the great numbers we have.”

            “And as we hope to surprise this lion with our numbers it will behoove us to hide them,” said Baranil.  “So torches and lanterns would be a very bad idea indeed.”

            “Ah!” said Galás.  “I had forgotten you were not Elves; I had assumed you would fight by starlight as well as we.  I beg your pardon, gentles all.”

            “Far from being insulted I am flattered,” laughed Araval.  “To my knowledge this is the first time I have been compared to one of the Eldar.”

            Galás rose and bowed to him.  “Then I look forward to further confusing your race in the future, my Lord, as it gives you pleasure!” he said, and Araval laughed again.

            “As I recall the lands to the north are rolling meads and hills, Lord Faramir,” said Legolas.  “Lest they place scouts behind them they shall not see us, for we shall be hidden in the folds of the meads.”

            “That is my hope,” admitted Faramir.  “And we ought to send forward scouts ourselves, to pick off any men they may leave behind, and to survey for any traps or ambushes.”

            “Leave that to me, my Lord,” said Baranil.  “I have many swift and silent spies amongst my people.”

            “And we will know more when Meivel returns,” said Thranduil.  “He will tell us if there are any hiding in the folds of the fields.”

            “Then by your leave, your Majesty,” said Faramir, “I would request those hundred archers to be placed behind the walls of my city.”

            “It ought rather to be, by his leave,” said the Elven King dryly, gesturing to his son.  “They are after all his people now, and no longer my own.”

            Legolas looked to his father in surprise.  “Have I stripped you of your militia, my Lord?” he asked.  “Baranil!  What of my Lord’s army?  How many of them remain to guard his kingdom?”

            “There are enough, your Highness,” smiled Baranil.  “Fear not!  We shall also retain one hundred to journey back with us to Eryn Lasgalen.  But the other four hundred are yours.”

            “And the horses?” asked Legolas.

            “Did I not tell you, my Queen, he would ask immediately concerning the horses?” Thranduil asked of his wife with a smile.  “Yes, yes, Legolas, and the horses!  We bought them at Dale ere we sailed; they are part of King Girion of Dale’s parting gift to you.  Well, shall you answer Lord Faramir?  Do you concede to him a hundred archers under your mother’s direction to see to the safety of the women and children in Osgiliath, or would you rather wait to hear what Meivel and the other scouts have to say concerning the numbering of our enemy host?”

            “I shall concede the archers,” said Legolas after a moment’s thought.  “Faramir, will Éowyn ride with us, or will she remain in Osgiliath with Queen Undómiel?”

            “If I have any influence over her she shall remain,” said Faramir, “though I doubt not that order shall sit ill with her.”

            “If need be, I shall speak to her as well,” said Queen Edlothiel.  “For I shall stay also in Osgiliath, to comfort your people.”

            “Good!” said Legolas.  “Between you, my Lady, and the Lady of Emyn Arnen, Osgiliath shall be a safe refuge indeed.  I leave to you then the choice of which hundred to keep with you, and which I may take with me along with my other knights.”

            “Master – “ began Bandobras hopefully, but Legolas shook his head.  “Nay, my dear Little One!  Full battle is no place for you, young and untried as you are.  I must command you to stay here in Ithilien, and look after my mother, to see that no harm befalls her.”  At this Bandobras’ face fell, and he bit his lip.

            “Indeed you must, good Bandobras!” said Edlothiel solemnly.  “Who else amongst all my people could I find one as stout and faithful as you, or one who is as good a cook?  I have not had mushrooms such as yours since you quit Eryn Lasgalen many months past.”

            “O, well then!” said Bandobras, face brightening.  “That is not so bad I guess.”

            “Come!” said Edlothiel, rising and holding out her hand to him.  “We shall go now to the Lady of Emyn Arnen and to Queen Arwen Evenstar, that we might aid them in this great task set before them.”

Bandobras turned to the Green Knight.  “May I, Master?” he asked eagerly.  Legolas smiled at him and kissed the top of his curly head.  “Yes, Little One!” he said.  “I know how your heart has yearned after my mother the Queen; you love her as all love her, and have pined after her voice since you left her presence.  Go now with her, and use your good, homely Hobbit-sense to aid them in their endeavors.  Many people must be housed and fed in the coming months, and that more than warcraft is something you are very good at, as I know from my own experience and to my benefit.  My Lady,” he said, bowing to his mother, “My Lord and I shall foregather with you at the evening meal in Lord Faramir’s house.  I shall expect you to loan me my esquire for the night, but in the morning you may have him back again.”

“You are most generous, O my son!” said Edlothiel, taking Bandobras by the hand.  “By your leave, my King, my lords,” she said, and bowing to them swept from the pavilion, the little Halfling trotting beside her excitedly.

            “I am sorry about Egalmoth, Faramir,” said Gimli when they had gone.  “I know he was one of your father’s trusted advisors.”

            Faramir shook his head.  “I never wanted to believe ill of him,” he said slowly.  “That he should be slain in such a fashion!  He was ever an honorable man, and strong and intelligent enough to forbear my father, which perhaps was the reason he was so well-trusted yet unliked.”

            “Well, we are not certain concerning the cause of his death,” said Beregond.  “After all he only said Orodreth; that could mean one of several things.”

            “Perhaps Orodreth came upon him and slew him, or ordered him to be slain,” said Cirien.  “There could be two reasons for that:  That Orodreth is himself the Lion whom we hunt, and slew Egalmoth fearing exposure; or that Egalmoth was the Lion, or as I suspect one of many Lions, and Orodreth his confederate, and quarrelling over some part of the plot came to blows.”

            “But if his word Orodreth means something different,” said Legolas, “perhaps he was attacked by men who said also that Orodreth was one of their enemies, and he sought to warn him.  And do not forget my friend Targil!  What was his part in this?  Was he there by chance and killed to keep his silence, or was he part of this plot as well?”

            “He was seen talking with Fenbarad the day your esquire was kidnapped,” said Beregond.

            “All spoke to Targil; he was a blithe and affable man,” said Mardil.  “Not a day went by when we did not stop to pass time with him.  He knew all the comings and goings of the various knights and retainers, and was privy to many assignations and meetings.”

            “That could be the reason for his demise,” said Thranduil.  “And forget not this other lord who has vanished, this Eradan; it was after all in his own quarters this tragedy occurred, and he may be taken by these villains, or one of them; in the same way Lord Egalmoth may have been slain by the evil men, or an evil man himself.”

            “I cannot believe it,” said Belecthor, his cheeks stained with tears.  “Of all lords to be felled, it should be the stubborn, the disagreeable, the stout-hearted Egalmoth!”

            “You cannot tell me you loved him!” exclaimed Faramir in surprise.  “You were ever at odds with him, as were all men I knew.  No one found him agreeable.”

            “He was not, perhaps, easy to love,” agreed Belecthor with a sigh, “but he was a true friend, if not always a pleasant one; and he was loyal to King Elessar, I may assure you, despite his sharp tongue and objectionable ways.”

            “If this Eradan has indeed been taken by Orodreth, then it is to his rescue also we must go,” said Baranil.

            “If he yet lives,” said Faramir.  “I do fear me we shall come upon his body as we follow the fleeing lion from his den.  Alas for Eradan!  He is Aragorn’s favorite councilor.”

            “Well, there is no sense borrowing trouble from the future,” said Thranduil.  “It is set, then?  Tomorrow at dawn we ride.  There are fifty mounted knights, and a hundred foot-soldiers, amongst whom are your Rangers, is that not right, my Lord of Emyn Arnen?”

            “Yes, that is so,” said Faramir.  “Add to those your own numbers and we shall be a force to be reckoned with.”

            “Not all those numbers are mine!” said Thranduil.  “Remember I leave four hundred behind when I return to my kingdom.  The two hundred mounted Elvish knights, and the two hundred Elvish archers, are Prince Legolas’ own army.  Only the foot-soldiers are my own.”

            “Still, four hundred Elves to swell our ranks shall make it so that the enemy is driven before us as quail before the hunting dogs,” said Aldamir.  “I no longer fear for my own lands.  The Elven realm in Ithilien shall be a stronghold indeed.”

            “I suggest we march thus,” said Faramir, gesturing to the map.  “Two ranks of mounted knights to either side of the foot-soldiers and archers, separated by a league apiece, so that any stray enemy scouts coming upon us shall see only one of the three forces, and think us a much smaller army.  The archers shall be in rank behind the foot-soldiers, and when the enemy is engaged shall sweep the forward line with arrows.  The knights shall charge, one upon either side, and crush them; and the foot-soldiers shall deal with those left behind.”

            “It seems to me you cheat the poor foot-soldiers, my Lord,” said Galás.  “To leave them only the trampled and pierced!  That is not much of a fight; I am sure they will be most disappointed.”

            “Well, we can but hope the enemy is strong enough to survive an arrow-barrage and a full-tilt assault by mounted warriors with lances,” said Legolas.  “But if they prove too weak to withstand the two first prongs of attack, I suggest you march with the foot-soldiers yourself, then, Galás!  You could lift their sagging spirits with your humorous statements.”

            “Nay!” laughed Galás.  “I have my Caryave, who spoils for the charge.  Besides is a seneschal’s place not beside his lord?”

            “A seneschal’s place is to watch over his lord’s people in his absence,” replied Legolas, eyes twinkling.  “Perhaps your keen wit would be put to better use here in Ithilien.”

            Galás looked dismayed.  “Surely you would not leave me behind!” he cried.

            “Better that than to hear you two bickering the whole time,” said Gimli.  “Aulë!  I shall march with the foot-soldiers, then, to ensure I do not have to hear you any more.  You would drive the most patient of Dwarves insane.  Besides I do not think my pony could keep up with all those destriers and cavalry horses.”

            “Do you see, my lords, why I offered Galás to my son as seneschal?” asked Thranduil of the men around the table.  “Though my halls shall be duller in his absence, I would not have the Lord of Elven Ithilien deprived of a court jester.”

            Legolas rose and approached the Elven King.  “You said you would send me people to rule, yet I did not expect so much of you,” he said, bowing to his King.  “Four hundred fierce and steadfast Elves is a gift greater than the gift of gold you bring to Aragorn.”

            “Your mother would rather I had sent her entire court and ladies-in-waiting,” said Thranduil with a smile, rising and clasping his son by the shoulder.  “Andunië, Dúrfinwen, and Seimiel especially begged leave to be released from the Queen’s service.  But I have no doubt that among your people you will not fail to make a good choice.  You shall lead them well, whether you choose a consort or no.”

            “Thank you, father!”  The two tall Elves stood regarding each other, and then the King smiled.

            “I should not have given them to you, Legolas, had I not believed you capable of ruling them as I have,” he said. 

*”Well met!  It has been too long.”

**”Ever is thy sight a joy.”