Кирилл Еськов: The Last Ringbearer

That was when the Mirror first made a difference; imagine a contemporary fast-moving war in which one side has the advantage of space-based surveillance. Éomer, practically under house arrest at the time, got comprehensive information about Mordor’s move from Gandalf, and realized that a general only gets such a chance once in a lifetime. Taking advantage of Theoden’s illness and his enormous popularity among the troops, he moved the elite Rohan army units north. At that point he had nothing to lose; failure would no doubt have cost him his head for treason.

But the Mirror spoke truly. Five days later the armored cavalry of Rohan suddenly struck Mordor’s expeditionary force out of Fangorn Wood; the enemy had no time to even break out of the marching formation. The swift attack was devastating; nevertheless, a significant part of the heavy infantry (mostly Trolls) did manage to form into its famous ‘granite blocks’ and fought back for several hours, taking a large toll on the attackers. When night fell, they tried to move into Fangorn, hoping to escape the mounted pursuers in the thicket, but all fell to the poisoned arrows of the Elvish bowmen in their tree perches.

The Rohirrim paid dearly for their victory, but the elite of the Mordorian army was no more; only the light Orocuen cavalry managed to escape. Éomer triumphantly returned to Edoras, and Theoden had to pretend that all was going according to a pre-existing plan. At the same time the king was publicly presented with evidence that the Isengard consul was spying on Rohan; although nearly all diplomats have been doing so since the world was created, Theoden now had to support the war party and had no choice but to declare Grima a persona non grata .

In the meantime, Rohan troops, still drunk with the Fangorn victory, filled up the palace square, clanging swords against shields, and demanded of their beloved Éomer that he lead them, no matter where. The general raised his sword high, as if to stab the setting sun, and cried: “To Isengard!” – whereupon Gandalf, standing not far away in the shadow of a battlement, knew that he had earned some rest. His work was done.

In the South, meanwhile, a ‘strange war’ went on. Although the Osgiliath Crossing had changed hands three times in two years, neither of the foes had made any attempts to follow up on their successes and take the fight to the other side of Anduin. The fighting consisted of a series of ‘noble contests’ – something between a gladiator show and a knightly joust. The best warriors were known by name on both sides, and bets were made regardless of the personal allegiances of the bettors; the officers competed in civility and never failed to congratulate an opponent on his monarch’s birthday or some other state occasion before running him through. The only dissonant note in this exalted symphony of courteous killing was sounded by the bands of Dúnadan ‘rangers’, gathered here like flies to carrion. Those mostly “harassed enemy communications” – or, to put it plainly, robbed caravans. The Mordorians considered them bandits rather than enemy combatants, to be dealt with harshly in wartime, and hung not a few of those ‘rangers’ off the leafy oaks along the Ithilien highway. The Northerners paid back in the same coin when they could. No wonder that working men like Tzerlag saw this ‘war’ as total baloney.

The Battle of Fangorn changed the situation drastically. Even prior to it the armies of Mordor and Isengard numbered no more than a third of the combined forces of Gondor and Rohan. After the task force perished, Mordor had no defensive strategies left; it had no chance of holding Ithilien with the forces it had. Sure, those were more than sufficient to hold the fastnesses in the passes of the Ash and Shadow Mountains, but what good was that? Gondor and Rohan had no need to storm those citadels; it was quite sufficient to simply establish a blockade and wait for Mordor to surrender or starve to death. The powers-that- be in Barad-Dur considered the situation soberly and realized that they had only one chance to break this stranglehold.

While Isengard remains unconquered in Rohan’s rear, the Rohirrim will not risk moving their army to the southeast, beyond Anórien. Although Isengard’s army is small, taking the city is no easy task, since primitive Rohan has no decent siege engines. Therefore, Mordor has some time, at least six months. Under cover of the low-grade war in Ithilien, this time must be used to gather all of the country’s resources into a fist – muster all men, hire mercenaries, request assistance from allies (the Easterlings and especially the Haradrim). Then this entire force must suddenly crush Gondor’s army in a blitzkrieg while it is temporarily deprived of Rohan’s aid. Afterwards, Mordor will conclude the war quickly under the well-known ‘land for peace’ scenario, keeping control of the Ithilien Crossing. The risk is huge, but there is no other choice!

The Mirror gave this plan a decent chance of success. Gandalf was extremely concerned, because the war in the northwest was not going as well as he expected. Éomer made a quick march west and did manage to capture the strategically important Helm’s Deep after a bloody battle at Hornburg, breaking into Isen’s valley. But it was a pyrrhic victory; the attackers’ losses were such that there was no question of storming Isengard. The only option was a siege, which was what Mordor was counting on.

The Elves found a solution. When the Rohirrim approached Isengard, they were stunned to behold a large lake in its place; the Orthanc stuck out of its middle absurdly, like a log out of a swamp. The Elves had solved the problem radically by breaching the dams of the Isen the previous night, drowning the sleeping city with its defenders. Horrified Gandalf and hotly angry Éomer (the riches of Isengard, which were the reason for this campaign, were now at the bottom of a lake) went to visit the Elves to settle a few things.

They came back after dark much subdued, silent, avoiding looking at each other. Surprised officers asked Éomer whether they should celebrate victory; the general snapped: “Whatever,” went to his tent and uncharacteristically drank himself into a stupor all alone. Gandalf, for some reason of his own, hurried to Orthanc and tried to talk to Saruman; after an icy rebuff he slumped listlessly at the water’s edge, watching the moon’s reflection. When all is said and done, the Elves are probably correct – the most important goal right now is to free up forces in the north and lead the Rohirrim south… But the Mirror… Was Saruman The Fastidious right back then?.. Better not to think about it, there’s no way back now anyway… And that Dúnadan ranger, what’s his name? Aragorn? Arathorn? What do the Elves need him for, all of a sudden?

All the while the war in the south was picking up steam. Of course, it is impossible to hide troop movements on the scale of those started by Mordor from enemy intelligence, even if those did not possess the Mirror. Gondor also began moving its allied forces towards Minas Tirith from Anfalas, Ethir, and Dol Amroth, but Mordor deployed first. After a successful feint to the north (towards Lórien and further to Esgaroth) had tied up most of the Elvish army there, the main force of Mordor’s army slammed Gondor. Osgiliath was taken on the march; six days later, having overrun and scattered the more numerous but badly positioned units of the army of Gondor, the victorious South Army had camped with all of its siege engines at the walls of Minas Tirith, which was still unprepared for a siege. The formidable Pelennor fortifications have been stormed immediately prior to that in only a couple of hours. So when the palantír in Denethor’s quarters suddenly came to life and Sauron offered an immediate peace in exchange for Mordor’s right to maintain a limited military presence in Ithilien, the king agreed right away, reasoning quite correctly that he was getting a heifer for a chick. Then, something strange happened.