Banished

Minas Tirith was such that it was built on seven levels, each delved into the hill, and about each was set a wall, and in each wall was a gate. But the gates were not set into a line: the Great Gate in the City wall was at the east point of the circuit, but the next faced half south, and the third half north; so that the paved way that climbed towards the Citadel turned first this way and then that across the face of the hill. And each time that it passed the line of the Great Gate it went through an arched tunnel, piercing a vast pier of rock whose huge bulk divided all the circles of the City in two, save for the lowest level.

For partly in the primeval shaping of the hill, partly by the mighty craft and labor of old, there stood up from the rear of the wide court behind the gate a towering bastion of stone, its edge as sharp as a ship-keel facing east.

Up it rose, even to the level of the topmost circle, and there was crowned by a battlement; so that those in the Citadel might, like mariners in a mountainous ship, look from its peak sheer down upon the Gate seven hundred feet below. The entrance to the Citadel also looked eastward, but was delved in the heart of the rock; a long lamp-lit slope ran up to the seventh gate. Then one reached the High Court, and the Place of the Fountain before the feet if the White Tower: tall and shapely, where the banner of the Stewards floated a thousand feet above the plain.

Also there was a shoulder, which rose to the height of the fifth wall, and it was hedged with great ramparts right up to the precipice that overhung its western end; it protected the city from infiltration by enemies who could scale the lower skirts of Mount Mindolluin, it was also where the houses and tombs of bygone kings and lords, for ever silent between the mountain and the tower.

*

Harry gazed in growing wonder at the great stone city, vaster and more splendid than anything he had dreamed of; greater and stronger than Isengard, and far more beautiful. But it was on closer inspection, year by year, falling into a slow decay; it already lacked half the men that could have dwelt there.

In every street they passed some great house or court over whose doors and arched gates were carved many fair letters of strange and ancient shapes: Harry guessed they were names of the families that had once dwelt there; and yet they were now silent, and no footsteps rang on their wide pavements, no voices were heard in their halls, no face looked out from any window or door.

At last they came out of the shadow of the seventh gate, and the warm sun that shone down beyond the river, glowed here on the smooth walls and rooted pillars, and the great arch keystone carven in the likeness of a crowned and kingly head.

Harry dismounted and gave a hand to Luna to help her down, for no horse was allowed in the Citadel. Gandalf dismounted as well and deposited Pippin on the ground, Shadowfax and Haldad, was contented to be led away at the soft words of their masters.

The Guards of the gate were robed in black, and their helms were high-crowned, with long cheek-guards close-fitting to the face, and above the cheek-guards were set the white wings of sea-birds; but the helms gleamed with a flame of silver. Upon the black surcoats were embroidered in white, a tree blossoming like snow beneath a silver crown like snow beneath a silver crown and many pointed stars. This was the livery of the heirs of Elendil, which as Gandalf whispered to Harry, none wore now in all of Gondor, save the Guards of the Citadel before the Court of the Fountain where the White Tree once had grown.

*

Harry noticed that word of their coming had come long before them; and at once they were admitted, silently, and without question, the only sounds were those of nature and taps of their staffs on the ground. Quickly Gandalf strode across the white paved court, with Harry and Luna a little behind him, poor Pippin had to run to keep up.

A fountain stood there in the morning sun, and a patch of bright green lay about it; but in the midst, drooping over the pool, stood a dead tree, and the falling drops dripped sadly from its barren and broken branches back into the clear water.

They found themselves now at the doors of the great hall beneath the gleaming tower; and behind them they passed the tall silent door-wardens and entered the cool echoing shadows of the house of stone. They walked down a paved passage, long and empty, and as they went Gandalf started to talk softly to them.

"My friends you must be careful of your words, especially you Master Peregrin. This is not time for hobbit pertness. Theoden is a kindly old man. Denethor is of another sort, proud and subtle, a man of greater lineage and power, though he is not called a king. But he will speak most to you Pippin, and question you much, since you can tell him of his son Boromir. He loved him greatly: too much perhaps and the more so because they were unlike. But under the cover of this love he will think it easier to learn what he wishes from you rather than from me. Do not tell him more than you need, and leave quiet the matter of Frodo's errand. I will deal with that in due time. And say nothing of Aragorn either, unless you must."

"Why not? What is wrong with Strider?" whispered Pippin, "He meant to come here, didn't he? And he'll be arriving soon himself anyway."

"Perhaps," said Gandalf, "though if he comes, it is likely to be in some way that no one expects, not even Denethor. It will be better so. At least he should come unheralded by us."

"I take it the Steward would not be thrilled with Aragorn showing up. For Aragorn is Elendil's heir and can rightfully claim Gondor's throne," said Harry, finally deducing what the kindly Ranger was.

"Yes, and as you should know, men in power rarely want to give it away," said Gandalf as they halted before a tall door of polished metal. "Unfortunately, there is no time to instruct you three in the history of Gondor; though it might have been better, if you had learned something of it. Do as I bid! It is scarcely wise to when bringing the news of the death of his heir to a mighty lord to speak over much of the coming of the one who will, if he comes, claim the kingship. Is that enough?" asked Gandalf to Pippin.

"Kingship?" said Pippin amazed.

"Yes, if you have walked all these days with closed ears and mind asleep, wake up now!" the old wizard knocked on the door.

It opened, but no one could be seen opening it. Harry looked into a great hall. It was lit by deep windows in the wide aisles at either side, beyond the rows of tall pillars that upheld the roof. There were no hangings or weavings or any wood that could be seen in the long solemn hall; but between the pillars stood a silent company of tall images graven in cold stone. The images of the kings of old.

At the far end upon a dais of many steps was set a high throne under a canopy of marble shaped like a crowned helm; behind it was carved upon the wall and set with gems an image of a tree in flower. But the throne was empty. At the foot of the dais, upon the lowest step, which was broad and deep, there was a stone chair, black and unadorned, and on it sat an old man gazing at his lap. In his hand was a white rod with a golden knob. He did not look up. Solemnly they paced the long floor towards him, until they stood barely three feet from his footstool.

Gandalf nodded at Harry and Luna and then spoke.

"Hail, Lord and Steward of Minas Tirith, Denethor son of Etchelion. I am come with counsel and tidings in this dark hour."

Then the old man looked up. Harry and Luna saw his carven face with its proud bones and skin like ivory, and the long curved nose between dark deep eyes; and it reminded them of Aragorn in a way.

"Dark indeed is the hour, and at such times you are the one to come Mithrandir, with two of your kindred. But though all the signs forebode that the doom of Gondor is at hand. It has been told to me that you bring with you one who saw my son die," said the old man gesturing to Pippin, "is this he?"

"It is," said Gandalf, "one of two who witnessed it. The other is with Theoden of Rohan and may come soon. Halflings they are, as you see, yet this is not he of whom the omens spoke."

"Yet a Halfling still," said Denethor grimly, "and little love do I bear the name, since those accursed words came to trouble our counsels and drew away my son on the wild quest to his death. My Boromir! Now we have need of you. Faramir should have gone in his stead."

"Don't be unjust in your grief Lord Denethor," said Harry, "Boromir claimed the errand and would suffer no other to have it."

"Indeed," nodded Gandalf, "he was a masterful man, and one to take what he desired. I journeyed far with him and learned much of his mood. But you speak of his death. You have had news of this before we arrived?"

"I have received this," said Denethor, and laying down his rod he lifted from his lap the thing he had been gazing at. In each hand he held up one half of a great horn cloven through the middle: a wild-ox horn bound with silver.

"That is the horn that Boromir always wore!" cried Pippen.

"Verily, and in my turn I bore it, and so did each eldest son of our house, far back into the vanished years before the failing of the kings. I heard it blowing dim upon the northern marches thirteen days ago, and the River brought it to me, broken: it will sound no more," there was now a heavy silence in the air. Suddenly he turned his black glance upon Pippin. "What say you to that, Halfling?"

"Thirteen days," murmured the hobbit thoughtfully, "yes, that sounds right. I stood beside him as he blew the horn, but no help came, only orcs."

"So," said Denethor, looking keenly at Pippin, "you were there? Tell me more! Why did no help come? And how did you escape, and yet he did not, so mighty a man as he was, and only orcs to withstand him?"

"The mightiest man may be slain by one arrow," retorted Pippin, "and Boromir was pierced by many, from the black bow of the Captain of the Uruk-Hai. When last I saw him he sank beside a tree and plucked a black-feathered shaft from his side. Then I fought but was overwhelmed and made captive. I saw him no more, and know no more. But I honor his memory, for he was very valiant. He died to save us, my kinsman Meriadoc and myself, waylaid in the woods by the soldiery of the Dark Lord; and though he fell and failed, my gratitude is none the less."

Harry noted that Pippin looked the old man in the eye, and there was pride stirred in the small hobbit, stung by the cold suspicion in the voice of Denethor.

"Little service, no doubt, will so great a lord of Men think to find in a hobbit, a halfling from the northern Shire; yet such as it is, I will offer it, in payment of my debt." Pippin drew his small sword and laid it at Denethor's feet.

A pale smile, like the gleam of cold sun on a winter's evening, passed over the old man's face; but he bent his head and held out his hand, laying the shards of the horn aside.

"Give me the weapon," said Denethor. Pippin lifted it and presented the hilt to him.

"Where did this come from?" asked Denethor, "many years lie on it, and this blade is surely wrought by our own kindred in the North in the deep past."

"It came out of the mounds that lie on the borders of my country," said Pippin, "but only evil wights dwell there, and I would not willing tell more of them."

"I see that strange tales are woven about you, and once again it is shown that looks belie the man - or the halfling. I accept your service. For you are not daunted by words; and you have courteous speech, strange though the sound of it be to us in the South. And we shall have need of all folk of courtesy, be they great or small, in the days to come. Swear to me now!" said Denethor.

So Harry watched Pippin swear his allegiance to the Steward of Gondor. It was a very brave thing to do, if a bit reckless. Most people would scoff at the little hobbit and say he could do nothing, his sword was too small, his reach to short, and no difference could he make. But Harry also knew that a single small stone falling off a cliff could trigger a mountain into avalanche.

"And now my first command to you: speak and be not silent! Tell me your full tale and see that you can recall all that you can of Boromir. Sit now and begin!" As he spoke he struck a small silver gong that stood near his footstool, and at once servant came forward.

"Bring wine and food and seats for the guests, and see that none trouble us for one hour," said Denethor

"It is all that I have to spare, for I have much else to heed," he said to the three mages, "but we can speak again at the end of the day."

"I hoped for earlier," said Gandalf, "for I and my kin have not ridden from Isengard, one hundred and fifty leagues, with the speed of wind, only to bring you one small warrior, however courteous. Does it mean nothing to you that Theoden has fought a great battle, and that Isengard is overthrown, and that we have broken the staff of Saruman?"

"It is much to me. But I know already of these events for my own counsel against the menace of the East," said Denethor and his dark eyes turned towards the three mages. Harry saw the power this man had, and it reminded him distantly of what he felt in the presence of Legolas. It also almost reminded him of Dumbledore as well, when the Headmaster was at his weariest.

Then men came and brought the provisions and seating as Denethor commanded and Harry sat beside Luna and she gave him a small smile. She rested her hand on his thigh surreptitiously. So they began to eat and Pippin told his tale as best he could under the piercing eye of the Lord of Gondor, for over an hour. It was a big strain on the small hobbit by Harry's reckoning. Denethor commanded that housing be prepared for them and that none would hinder the mage's movements.

"And you my Lord Mithrandir, shall come too, with your kinsmen, as and when you will. None shall hinder your coming to me at any time, save only in my brief hours of sleep. Let your wrath at an old man's folly run off, and then return to my comfort!" said Denethor.

"No, my Lord, when you are a dotard you will die. You can even use your grief as a cloak. Do you think that I do not understand your purpose in questioning for an hour one who knows the least, while I and my kin sit by?" said Gandalf.

"If you understand it then be content," retorted Denethor, "pride would be folly that disdained help and counsel at need; but you deal out such things according to your own designs. Yet the Lord of Gondor is not to be made the tool of other men's purposes, however worthy. And to him there is no purpose higher in the world as it now stands than the good of Gondor; and the rule of Gondor, my lord, is mine and no other man's, unless the king should come again."

"Well, my lord Steward, it is your task to keep some kingdom still against that event, which few now look to see. In that task you shall have all the aid that you are pleased to ask for. But I will say this: the rule of no realm is mine or my kin's," Gandalf gestured to Harry and Luna, "but all worthy things that are in peril as the world now stands, those are our care. And for our part, we should not wholly fail of our task, though Gondor should perish, if anything passes through this night that can still grow fair or bear fruit and flower again in days to come. For we are also stewards. Did you not know?"

And with that Gandalf, Harry and Luna stood and strode from the hall, with Pippin running in their wake. A guide met them at the doors of the hall and led them across the Court of the Fountain into a lane between tall buildings of stone. After several turns they came to a house close to the wall of the Citadel upon the north side, not far from the shoulder that linked the hill with the mountain. Inside upon the first floor above the street, up a wide carven stair, he showed them to a fair room, light and airy, with hangings of dull gold sheen.

It was sparsely furnished, having but a small table, four chairs and a bench; but at either side there were curtained alcoves and beds within with vessels and basins for washing. There was a similar adjoining room where Harry decided he and Luna could sleep, after pushing the two beds together of course. There were three high narrow windows that looked northward over the great curve of Anduin, still shrouded in mists, towards the Emyn Muil and Rauros far away.

Harry laughed inwardly at the little hobbit, who had to climb like a child on the bench to look out over the deep stone sill.

"Are you angry with me Gandalf?" asked Pippin worriedly, as their guide went out and closed the door, "I did the best I could."

"You did indeed!" said Gandalf laughing suddenly; and he came and stood beside Pippin, putting his arm about the hobbit's shoulders, and gazing out the window.

"Don't worry about it Pippin," said Harry and walked forward in an embrace with Luna, "I hope you find it a long time before you find yourself in such a tight corner between two such terrible old men." Harry smirked at Gandalf.

"Still the Lord of Gondor learned more from you than you may have guessed Pippin," said Harry.

"You could not hide the fact that Boromir did not lead the Company from Moria, and that there was one among you of high honor and title, who was coming to Minas Tirith; and that he had a famous sword. Men think much about the stories of the old days in Gondor; and Denethor has given long thought to the rhyme and to the words Isildur's Bane, since Boromir went away," said Gandalf now.

"He is not as other men of this time, Pippin, and whatever be his descent from father to son, by some chance the blood of Westernesse runs nearly true in him; as it does in his other son, Faramir, and yet did not in Boromir whom he loved best. He has long sight, almost in the manner of Luna the Eye. He can perceive, if he bends his will much of what is passing in the minds of men, even to those that are far away. It is difficult to deceive him and dangerous to try," sighed Gandalf.

"Well, I suppose there is no need to brood on what tomorrow may bring," said Harry, "for one thing, it will be certain to bring worse than today, for many days to come. And there is nothing more we can do to help it," shrugged Harry while Luna nestled contentedly in his arms.

"Indeed," nodded Gandalf, "the board is set, and the pieces are moving. One piece that I greatly desire to find is Faramir, now the heir of Denethor. I do not think he is in the City; but we have no time to gather news. My kin and I must now go Pippin. We must go to this lord's council and learn what we can. But the Enemy has the move, and he is about to open his full game. And pawns are like to see as much of it as any, Peregrin son of Paladin, soldier of Gondor. Sharpen your blade!"

Gandalf went to the door followed by Harry and Luna, and there the old wizard turned.

"We are in haste Pippin," he said, "before you rest, go and find Shadowfax and Haldad and see how they are housed. These people are kindly to beasts, for they are good and wise, but they have less skill with horses than some."

"I will do so," nodded Pippin.

*

With that the three mages walked out; and as they did so, came the note of clear sweet bell ringing in a tower of the citadel. Three strokes it rang, like silver in the air, and stopped: the third hour from the rising of the sun.

Gandalf led them back to the absent King's throne room where the Stewart dwelt. They were stopped outside the door and were told by the guards to wait. The elder wizard beckoned his two younger counterparts that they should speak in private out of earshot in a corner of the room.

"Well, my young friends, soon our counsel will be sought by this lord, do you have any ideas that this old man has not thought of?" asked Gandalf.

"By this you ask, if we have any ideas on how to defend this city?" replied Harry with a question in kind.

"Yes, you both are not from this realm and your thinking will be on paths unfamiliar to those of middle-Earth," said Gandalf.

"How many are going to be arrayed against us?" asked Luna.

"I can't be sure of the number that Sauron has under his sway, nor how much of that he will use in his first hammer stroke, but it is clear to him now that Saruman has failed," murmured Gandalf deep in thought.

"So Sauron now knows he has to content against the might of both Gondor and Rohan," said Harry.

"Yes, the Stewart's scouts will no doubt have some measure of the enemy, since Osgilliath is currently under attack, but I can say for certain that we will be fighting a number that makes Helm's Deep seem like a border skirmish," said Gandalf darkly.

"Well, I had an idea at that battle," said Harry uncertainly.

"What is it you speak of?" asked Gandalf with a frown.

"Gandalf, what do you know of Astronomy?" said Harry biting his lower lip.

"I know as much as any of the Wise," replied the old wizard.

"The spell I speak of is one that allowed a single wizard to defeat an army of two hundred thousand men at arms," replied Harry heavily.

"Where did you get this knowledge?" asked Luna astonished.

"Professor Dumbledore's personal library," said Harry, "the spell pulls a minor heavenly body out of the sky and rains it down at a specific point of the wizard's choosing. Think of it as a astronomically sized catapult."

"Wow," said Luna, clearly in awe.

"But, there would have to be a suitable asteroid close enough to Arda, it can't be too big or too small, since I think we would definitely want Minas Tirith to survive afterwards. But even if a suitable asteroid is found, it should only be used as a last resort, since the Pelennor fields would cease to exist, and Gondor would have a new mountain to name, plus almost a year of obscured sunlight from the dust it would throw into the air," said Harry.

"Interesting idea Harold, it definitely has some merit, but alas, I know of no such heavenly body in orbit around Arda," stated Gandalf.

"Oh well, worth a shot, the wizard who developed the spell was a highly regarded Astronomer, which is not my penchant anyway," sighed Harry, "but I could still use the spell to maybe do something similar, it won't be as huge but it's something."

"Very well," nodded Gandalf, "keep working on that then and keep me appraised of your progress, but time is not something we have a lot of. And what of you, Luna the Eye?"

"What will be the number of men at arms we will have?" she asked airily.

"Denethor, will obviously summon all he can from all parts of Gondor, ideally he could summon a quarter of a million men to defend this city," said Gandalf.

"And realistically?" asked Harry.

"Hundred thousand men at arms, which is more than enough actually for this kind of battle, it will be siege warfare Harold," said Gandalf.

"So Helm's Deep part two," murmured Harry, "I wish Ron was here, he was much more of a strategic thinker."

"Yes, a lot of his ideas turned the tide in our battles at home," sighed Luna.

"Wait, when will Rohan arrive?" asked Harry to Gandalf.

"Theoden will arrive as soon as he is able to muster all the horsemen he can, I fear the Rohirrim will only appear when we are well under siege, they may be able to break it, because they will have tactical surprise on their side," replied the old wizard.

"But we are still outnumbered," said Luna in an ethereal voice.

Their discussion went on in the same vane for almost twenty minutes before the guards indicated they could enter. Denethor was once again staring at the cloven horn and looked up at them as they stopped a respectful distance in front of his chair.

"Mithrandir, you return," said the Stewart, not looking up; "to what damning counsel will you subject my ears now?"

"Lord Denethor, the counsel we give is for you to take or leave as you wish," said Gandalf evenly. The Stewart sighed heavily.

"Speak and let me hear," said Denethor.

Gandalf laid out all their conclusions and deductions in a few minutes before Denethor, the Steward was still for a while afterward as they could see his mind running through the points brought up.

"Yes, the eyes of the White Tower has seen the array of enemies against us, I believe them to number by the three hundreds of thousand, not in my knowledge is there anything we can do to counter the advantage our enemy has. We may have the most skilled knights and soldiers but that is irrelevant if our enemy can overwhelm us in number," surmised the grim looking Denethor, "yet if all goes well, we will receive reinforcement from the Outlands this afternoon. I do not hold much hope for this action, for I would be happy should we get five thousand."

"Is their any news of the situation at Osgilliath?" asked Gandalf.

"Yes, I believe we will not hold it for another day, two at most," said Denethor.

"So they will use Osgilliath as a jump off point, and to ease their crossing of the river without the need for massive amphibious capability," murmured Harry.

"Yes," nodded Denethor, "that is why for long we have made it as our last line of defense. Any force hoping to assault Minas Tirith in such great a number must first capture Osgilliath. Men thought it would be a good shield against the enemy. They never counted on Osgilliath itself falling into ruin."

"Lord Denethor, may I ask as to the whereabouts of your son, Faramir?" asked Gandalf.

The Steward regarded Gandalf coolly for a while and Harry had a clear impression that Denethor clearly did not want his other son to come to the attention of the old wizard.

"He and his company of Knights are near Osgilliath, I had sent instruction for him to reinforce it, but I have yet to hear word from the men stationed at the city as to his arrival," replied the King carefully.

The discussion went on well into the morning and they had lunch with the King, he dismissed them afterwards. Gandalf also excused himself from their presence and headed down into the city. Harry beckoned for Luna to follow him and they walked out on the green grass just outside the Citadel, they passed the fountain and stopped at the battlements overlooking the vast Pellenor Fields. As they were over a thousand feet above the fields they could easily see Osgilliath in the distance. Harry could also spot the small columns of smoke rising from it, betraying the battle that was taking place there.

"Such a beautiful view, why does it have to be marred by evil?" asked Luna. Harry embraced her from behind and let his chin rest on the top of her head.

"Such is the nature of things, my love," replied Harry simply with a sigh of contentment, "we work to remove that evil, but remember too much light can be a bad thing as well. The darkness is there to remind us how precious life is, to appreciate it fully and it tests us to stop us from stagnation and brings about renewal. There is a balance in all things that must be maintained. I surely know that Voldemort will not be the last Dark Wizard that we will be pitted against in our lifetimes."

"I suppose you would know," she sighed and leaned back into him.

"Dumbledore is a rather exacting mentor; he wanted me to really learn the motivation and psychology behind Voldemort and Grindelwald, and other similar dark wizards," he explained.

"Speaking of dark wizards, are you still going to Auror Academy?" asked Luna rather seriously.

"Yes, but I think I will miss the starting date for this year's class, I can't hardly see myself in a hurry to get home after this War of the Ring is concluded," replied Harry with a smile.

"Yes, Arda looks like a wonderful place to explore, barring the orcs and Sauron," said Luna absently gazing out over the fields, after a while of contemplative silence she said, "the siege of this city will be the decisive battle of the war. But another battle which is the hinge on which fate will turn is being fought out there."

"Frodo and Sam and the Ring of Power," guessed Harry, Luna nodded, "if they fail the battle we will fight here will be meaningless, even if we should somehow win."

The couple spent the rest of the day striding leisurely through the city exploring the many streets and talking to the people of Minas Tirith that crossed their way. Harry was surprised to find a fully fledged market on the third level of the city, that stocked foods and many different odd little items that the smiths in the city produced to meet the needs of its citizenry.

They also heard that the Captains of the Outlands were expected up the South Road at sundown.

Harry and Luna decided to watch from the battlements on the walls of the lowest level of the city. Beyond the great Gate of the city there was a crowd of men along the verge of the road and of the great paved space into which all the ways to Minas Tirith ran. All eyes were turned southwards.

"There is a dust cloud approaching," pointed Luna with her staff.

"Yes, that must be them," nodded Harry.

Soon, horns sounded in the distance, and the noise of the cheering rolled towards them like a gathering wind. There was a loud trumpet-blast, and below them people were shouting.

"Forlong! Forlong!" they heard men calling.

Leading the line there came walking a big thick-limbed horse and on it sat a man of wide shoulders and huge girth, but old and grey-bearded, yet mail-clad and black-helmed and bearing a long heavy spear. Behind him marched proudly a dusty line of men, well armed and bearing great battle-axes; all had grim expressions on their faces.

"Forlong!" men shouted, "true heart, true friend! Forlong!"

"Only two hundred," sighed Harry heavily, "I had hoped for ten times the number."

"It seems the Black Fleet of Sauron has the men of the Outland scared, so they send only that which they can spare," replied Luna. They had met a scout during the day that had told them of the fleet of pirates under the pay of Sauron that was sailing up the Anduin River.

"Then we will be assaulted from two sides and we cannot hope to win a battle like that, even with Rohan reinforcing us," growled Harry angrily.

And so the companies came and were hailed and cheered and passed through the Gate, men of the Outlands marching to defend the city of Gondor in a dark hour; but always too few, always less than hope looked for or need asked. The men of the Ringlo Vale behind the son of their lord, Derovorin striding on foot: three hundred, from the uplands of Morthond, the great Blackroot Vale, tall Duinhir with his sons, and five hundred bowmen. From the Anfalas, a long line of men of many sorts, hunters and herdsmen and men of little villages, scantily equipped save for the house of Golasgil their lord.

So the companies came, and last and proudest, Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth, kinsman of the Lord, with gilded banners bearing his token of the Ship and Silver Swan, and a company of knights in full harness riding grey horses; and behind them seven hundred men at arms, tall, grey eyed, dark haired, singing as they came.

And that was all, less than three thousand at full count. No more would come. Their cries and the tramp of their feet passed into the city and died away. The onlookers stood silent for a while. Dust hung in the air, for the wind had died and the evening was heavy. Already the closing hour was drawing near, and the red sun had gone behind Mindolluin. Shadow came down on the City.

"The Steward has greatly overestimated his ability to defend this City," said Harry seriously.

"I wonder if he was humoring us with his estimates?" asked Luna.

"But what purpose would deceiving us and Gandalf have?" retorted Harry.

"We do not know enough of this world, we must find Gandalf and ask him," said Luna airily. Harry nodded and held out his hand to her, she took it and they walked from the battlement and headed up towards their quarters in the Citadel of the City, hoping to find Gandalf there. They walked in almost perpetual darkness, since it seemed order was given for the lights of the City to be dimmed. The couple had to shine magical light from their staff's to see where they were going.

They arrived in their quarters only to find Pippin, nervously sitting on his small cot bed. He jumped up excited at their arrival.

"Good evening to you," greeted the hobbit, "is Gandalf not with you?"

"No, we were looking for him as well, our paths separated us during the day," answered Harry. The young hobbit looked disappointed at this and climbed on the bench and tried to peer out of the window, but it was like looking into a pool of ink.

"What news do you have?" asked the hobbit in a defeated voice.

"In our current state, the City will not resist a determined attack for long," answered Luna.

"The Black Fleet that sails up the Anduin River has done it's job well, Sauron has prevented Gondor from concentrating its might in one place with this move," stated Harry. Pippin frowned in anguish and closed the shutter of the window and climbed in his small bed, trying to get some sleep.

"Let's work on our spells," suggested Luna, gesturing to the round table with rolls of empty parchment, ink and quills. Harry nodded and they both sat down got to work. Four hours later, when Harry was sure that Arithmancy formulae and Spell construction models were poring out of both their ears, Gandalf arrived looking tired and harried.

"Greetings my friends, I hope your day was productive?" asked the old wizard.

"We learned much, thank you," said Harry, "but there is much also we would ask you and have discussed."

Gandalf sat down with a huff and pulled some clean parchment towards him and appropriated a quill and ink bottle.

"Ask my friends," prompted Gandalf and set to work writing in a runic language Harry hardly recognized.

"Denethor deceived us today, why?" asked Luna barely looking up from her work.

"Though he may not be a King, he is in power, and it's the desire of all men, they will rarely let go of it. Denethor placated us today in his estimation of the numbers that will come to defend the city, he is afraid we will rob him of his position through magical means if we see he is not doing his job," explained Gandalf.

"Fudge, all over again," said Harry angrily and slammed his fist down on the table.

Gandalf looked quizzically at Luna for some explanation when it was apparent that Harry was not going to elaborate on his outburst. The witch sighed and put her quill down.

"The wizard war that we were embroiled in has officially lasted for just over two years," said Luna, "unofficially it actually started a year before that. Harry and another young wizard were there when Lord Voldemort reanimated himself. The young wizard was killed but Harry managed to escape and inform Professor Dumbledore of the situation. To make a long story short, a full year passed before our Magical Authorities recognized the return of Voldemort, they would not believe the word of a fifteen year old wizard, who was the sole witness to the event. It took a duel in the Ministry of Magic itself between Professor Dumbledore and Voldemort for the veracity of Harry's claims to sink in. Cornelius Fudge was the head of our Magical Government at the time and in the year that Voldemort's return was denied, Harry suffered vicious attacks on his credibility. Fudge desperately wanted to hang on to power." Gandalf nodded somberly in understanding.

"Such is the nature of power, it corrupts and spoils, and makes those who were once honorable, act only for their own short sighted interest," said Gandalf.

"So how was your day Gandalf?" asked Harry, his anger had rather abated.

"Alas, nothing has happened as I had hoped for," stated the old wizard and abruptly stood to start pacing back and forth, "this city is in no condition to resist a determined siege. I have helped set up Trebuchet's on all the levels of the city but I might as well try to blow against the wind for all the good it would do."

"Every little bit helps," frowned Harry, not used to seeing Gandalf this way.

"I know Harold the Lost, but we need a very important Knight on our chessboard before we go to battle," said Gandalf.

"Who?" asked Luna curiously.

"Faramir, when will he return?" asked Gandalf rhetorically and beckoned them to come join him outside on the balcony. They followed and were about to start the conversation again.

"Hullo!" said the voice of Pippin poking his head round the curtain shielding the balcony from the inside.

"I thought you had forgotten all about me. I am glad to see you back Gandalf. It has been a long day."

"But the night will be too short," said Gandalf, "you should sleep, in a bed while you still may. At the sunrise I shall take you to the Lord Denethor again. No, when the summons comes, not at sunrise. The Darkness has begun. There will be no dawn."