Ringspell

Chapter 5.


Into the shadow…


There was little conversation, as Aragorn and Legolas made their way back to the camp, both Man and Elf preoccupied with their own thoughts. They found the rest of the Company sitting around a small fire, eating and discussing the benefits of various blends of pipe-weed, just as the light of day began to creep into the forest. From a distance, it seemed as though the little group had built an invisible wall of light and warmth around them, sheltering them from the dark and foreboding forest. The giggling and happy conversation ended abruptly and all eyes were on Aragorn and his Elven companion as they approached the circle of friends. Gandalf was regarding Legolas with particular interest.


"Welcome back, Greenleaf. So nice of you to join us."


The old Man said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.


"I trust you enjoyed your little walk."


Legolas was not phased, brazenly returning the Wizard’s gaze as he took a place, standing at the edge of the group.


"Forgive my absence, Gandalf." He said, mildly. "The Fellowship was not in any danger."


Gandalf grunted, obviously dissatisfied with the response.


"Really? And how, in your infinite wisdom, did you come to that conclusion?" He inquired.


Legolas shrugged off the hostility.


"There is no danger here." He said, in a tone that defied scepticism.


"Not for us, at any rate." He added.


Gandalf continued to glare at Legolas and Aragorn wondered if he might be considering trying to spank the young Elf. If that was the case, the old Man obviously thought better of it. Instead, he rose to his feet.


"Well," He said, "As long as we’re all up, we may as well get an early start."


They walked long and hard that day, stopping for a few minutes, only when the hobbits could go no further. As they went, Aragorn wondered at Gandalfs' reasons for this trek into Mirkwood and though he trusted the old Wizard implicitly, the mystery surrounding their detour left him feeling uneasy. After many hours and many upward glances, searching for the sun, Aragorn determined that their course had swung around, almost 180 degrees, so that they were now heading West, deeper into the shadows of the forest. Concerned, he caught up with Gandalf, who never seemed to tire of leading the way.


"Is the King not to the north of here?" He inquired.


Gandalf spared him a sidelong glance and, as usual, he was cryptic in his reply.


"There are other places to go." He said. "People to see."


Aragorn’s curiosity peaked.


"Who else must we see, besides the King?" He asked.


"Not ‘we’," The old Man replied. "Him."


He motioned behind them and Aragorn knew who the old Wizard had meant, before looking.


Legolas was walking amongst the hobbits, telling stories of history and magic and frightening them with detailed descriptions of the many varied monsters that inhabited his realm.


"Who else must he see?" Aragorn asked, quietly.


Gandalf grunted, seemingly fed up with the interrogation.


"You will know soon enough." He said. "Honestly, Aragorn, sometimes your curiosity rivals that of those fool Halflings."


Feeling chastised, Aragorn dropped back behind Gandalf, content for now, to follow the old Man’s lead.


As the hours passed, darkness crept up behind them, and before anyone was truly aware, night had fallen and under the thick canopy of the forest, the darkness was absolute. Still, they kept on, almost every member of the Fellowship tripping and stumbling with almost every step. Eventually, the exhausted hobbits had to be carried through the blackness, Aragorn taking Frodo and Sam in his arms, while Boromir hefted Merry and Pippin onto his back. Blindness putting the Ranger on edge, Aragorn walked close beside Legolas, trusting the Elfs' keen eyes and ears to alert them to danger.


Finding the whole situation intolerable, he was about to step up and demand that Gandalf let them stop until dawn when, out of nowhere, a wide path opened up before them. A thin layer of mist, hovered above the ground and, thanks to the break in the canopy, starlight shone down upon the earth, illuminating the way with an eerie, soft light. The ground was more or less flat, even the longest and most industrious tree roots failing to cross the wide space and so, the hobbits now able to walk on their own bare feet, the Company made their way easily along the straight path.


There were mumblings of curiosity coming from the rear of the group, as to where this strange road might lead, but Gandalf ignored them - as was becoming his habit, seemingly in a great hurry to reach their destination, wherever that may be.


After some time, it became apparent that something very large and very dark was looming up in front of them, blocking more and more of the star-lit sky as they approached.


"What is that up ahead?" Boromir asked.


"That," Gandalf finally replied, "Is Dol Guldur. Formerly the home of the Dark Lord, abandoned, some 500 years ago, when Thranduil’s hunters came looking for him."


There were collective gasps from the Company.


"What kind of crazy person would want to go there?" Merry voiced the question on everyone’s minds.


"In the middle of the night, no less!" Pippin added.


Aragorn looked to Legolas, who stood silently, by his side. The young Elf’s face was unreadable and he gazed, unblinking at the huge black structure before them. In the soft light, it seemed to Aragorn that the faintest hint of a smile may have tugged at the corners of his friend’s mouth but the moment was fleeting and the Company moved on again, towards the fortress, accompanied by the ceaseless, sorrowful music of the wind in the tops of the trees.


"Fear not." Gandalf had said. "There is no more danger in this place than in any other. The fortress is just that. A building made of stone, long empty."


Nevertheless, Aragorn felt uneasy, even afraid. He thought it was unwise to go into this foul place and was sure he felt the presence of unseen eyes, watching them from the impenetrable shadows. He took some comfort, in the presence of the Elf, who showed no fear.


Legolas strode confidently, almost eagerly towards Dol Guldur, his eyes gazing, staring, unflinching at the huge black walls that drew inexorably closer until, almost instantly, the Fellowship found themselves at the foot of the fortress. The walls climbed high, out of sight and stretched seemingly endlessly in either direction.


They passed through a large gap in the wall surrounding the body of the fortress, where once a huge, iron-bound gate had stood, now reduced to rubble, over which they carefully picked their way. Beyond the crumbling wall they found a large courtyard, dotted with the blackened remains of what was once a well manicured garden. A wide stone path leads towards the building and as they crossed the open space, Aragorn laid eyes on only the second form of wildlife he had seen in this old forest.


Black spiders, almost invisible when still, huge and fat and countless in number scattered off the stone path, disturbed by the presence of the Company. They scurried into the darkness, their bodies rubbing against each other, making a sound like autumn leaves shaken by breeze. Pippin squealed - the sound bouncing off the black walls and echoing long in the still night.


"Hush now." Gandalf rounded on the Halfling. "They run because they fear your giant feet, hobbit."


They made their way down the cleared path and mounted a flight of shallow stairs, up to the entrance of the fortress. They stopped on the stoop and looked, in awe at the giant wooden doors that now blocked their way. Craning his neck as far as it would go, Aragorn could barely make out the stone arch which bordered the top of the doors. He guessed that the doors had been made by lashing together whole tree-trunks and wondered at the force it would have taken to build such a thing. The company stood, looking around for a moment, Gandalf either unwilling or unable to open the huge doors.


Then, perhaps on an impulse, Legolas stepped forward and laid the palm of his hand on the wood, giving the giant thing a gentle push. With a resounding clang and the slow, painful creak of thousand year old hinges, the doors opened.


To be continued...