Chapter 381: Light
The Nazgûl's attack was not without effect. A handful of Uruk-hai seized Théodred in the confusion, catching him and halting his retreat.
"Stay," they snarled, "Prince of Rohan…"
"Ahhh!"
A roar from the wall cut them off. A Dwarf came down like a falling hammer, smashing the ambushers aside with brutal force and clearing a path for Théodred to escape.
"Go!"
"And you had better thank me properly. I just broke my own rule and let someone throw me over here…"
The battle dragged on.
The Nazgûl kept circling overhead. The fell beast's shriek left the fortress shaking. Many could barely keep a grip on their swords, and mistakes began to appear along the defenses.
Théoden ran from wall to wall, sword raised, shouting himself hoarse. Wherever he went, it was as if fire passed through the ranks. Men straightened, grit returned to their faces, and courage flared. Yet once he moved on, the fear crept back in, and before long the same dread settled again.
The collapse could not be stopped.
Aragorn and Boromir tried to help, but most knew them not. Their cries carried only so far.
Among their own people, their presence alone could lift an army's spirit.
But this was Rohan, and their renown had not reached such height here.
A sudden sortie drove back the force battering the gate, yet the enemy regrouped quickly. When they returned, their assault was fiercer, heavier, and harder to hold.
Like a black tide, wave after wave crashed against the wall and door.
Boom!
In the chaos, the gate, left without enough support, finally gave way.
The Nazgûl was too hard to answer. If it dared to come down, many would have fought it, and Aragorn or Boromir could have driven it back alone.
But it was clever. It stayed in the air, never committing, only spreading panic and disrupting the field.
Even when it descended, it did so as before, striking only at key moments, then rising again.
When the gate splintered, the enemy surged in at once. It was like an outlet opened in the sea floor, and the black flood poured through in a frenzy.
Inside the walls, the defenders struggled to hold.
"Hold, hold!!"
Sensing the gate was lost, Gimli, who had just withdrawn, was the first to throw himself back into the breach. At his side was the captain of the wall-guard, Gamling. The two struck first and barely blunted the initial impact.
Then Aragorn and Théoden arrived with more men. They braced against spear points from outside and tried to patch the gate, but it was useless.
Above them, the Nazgûl let out a rasping laugh. It was not loud, yet it echoed inside every mind.
Flying really was a cheat.
If it had come on horseback, it would not have lasted so long.
The fight at the gate was desperate, but the Deeping Wall that spanned the gorge was no better. Under the Nazgûl's influence, great numbers of the enemy swarmed up there. Legolas, Boromir, and the defenders fought like mad to hold them back.
"This cannot continue," Legolas said.
Even Legolas, whose command sense was weaker than the others', could feel the battle slipping out of shape.
"There are too many. Our warriors are exhausted, and there is a shadow in their hearts. If this goes on, the Deeping Wall will fall sooner or later."
"So what do we do?" Boromir kicked a Uruk-hai off its footing and twisted aside from an arrow, scanning the field. He agreed, but agreement did not solve anything.
"Who can shoot that cursed Nazgûl down?"
He hacked down another Uruk-hai, forcing its way up and said, "If it comes down, I will cut it to pieces."
"Fall back to the inner keep. Concentrate the defense!!"
An order rang out.
The gate could not be held.
"They say the Hornburg has never fallen, but now I am no longer certain."
Within the high walls of the inner fortress, with a brief moment to breathe, they began to weigh their options.
Théoden stared out into the black night and said quietly, "The world has changed. Things we once thought unbreakable are proving unreliable."
"We can wait for dawn," someone suggested.
"It will not help."
Aragorn did not want to crush morale, but he had to speak the truth.
"Those Uruk-hai are not like Orcs. They do not fear the sun. Even under direct sunlight, they will not weaken."
"Then we will wait for dawn," Théoden said suddenly.
Aragorn turned, wondering if he had not heard.
"I heard you, Aragorn," Théoden said, drawing in a breath. "They do not fear daylight, but our men are trapped by darkness and fear. This cannot go on."
"At first light, we will sound the horn and ride out."
"Either we cut a path through blood, or we die in a way worth singing."
"Not here, not while a cunning enemy grinds down our courage until only slaughter remains."
"Let the horn of Helm Hammerhand, in this Deep of our forefathers, sound… one last time!"
As he spoke, Théoden stepped close to Aragorn and set a hand on his shoulder.
"That horn will witness the moment you and I draw sword and ride together."
"Old friend."
Nearby, Boromir watched, and a thought took shape.
If Aragorn truly returned to Gondor and took the throne, Théoden would support him. That much was clear.
Without even noticing, Boromir had begun to think of Aragorn's future.
But there was no time for that now.
Boom!
The lightning overhead turned a sickly green. The rain stopped in an instant. The clouds scattered, replaced by the Nazgûl's shadow.
It hovered in midair, broadcasting its presence without restraint. It raised a Morgul blade and swept it forward.
Roar!!!
The Uruk-hai surged with renewed fury, dragging the Dunlendings with them. They slammed into the inner gate again and again, and swarmed up the high walls.
Can we really hold until dawn?
The thought rose in more than one heart.
Despair began to grow.
Just as the defenders drew weapons to throw themselves back into the fight…
Whoosh!
Without warning, the crack of a firework burst in the sky.
The Nazgûl snapped its head around. A bright figure, wreathed in flame, hurtled straight at it. There was no room to dodge, no time to react. The two collided hard.
The impact was enormous. The Nazgûl and its fell beast were struck grievously and fell together with that blazing shape.
Orange fire carved a line across the sky, leaving a long burning trail. That light split the night, tore open the darkness hanging over the Deep, and then, with a thunderous crash, the beast and the Nazgûl slammed into the mountainside. Stone collapsed in a shower, and a huge section of rock gave way.
Broken slabs tumbled down the slope, scattering the army below as they scrambled back.
They stared up at the place where the Nazgûl had fallen, too shocked even to keep attacking.
The defenders of the Hornburg stared as well.
"Your part is over."
Levi climbed out over the fallen armor and the dead weight of the fell beast, raising his greatsword high.
Beyond him, outside the valley, a light flared. Bright, dazzling.
Dawn?
No.
It was an army. A silver-bright host, bathed in holy radiance wrought by a wizard.