Chapter 2:  a dark place

After climbing the many steps to the entrance of the tower, which was an unadorned great iron gate, Elrond looked up at the figure standing there and waiting.

“You will need this,” the King of Gondor said. He handed over an unlit torch. Elrond inclined his head. Obviously, Aragorn had also heard the shouts of his former mentor. He wondered what his councillor had discovered. It took quite a lot to set Glorfindel on edge.

With a last look down at the surrounding landscape, Elrond followed the man down the spiralling steps into the darkness of Orthanc.

The first level they reached could be referred to as Saruman´s private chamber, yet the room defied such a prosaic description. It was huge; the ceiling was at least eight feet above the ground. On the far wall, there were some small windows, which only dimly illuminated the room. The last sunbeams highlighted the dust dancing over the floor.

Elrond had been to this room many times not least because of the numerous bookshelves lining the walls from top to bottom. He would take back at Imladris as many as possible while others would be transferred to the great library of Minas Tirith. Now however, he had no eyes for the ancient books; the shout from Glorfindel was foremost in his mind.

The iron staircase wound further down into the depths of Isengard and they crossed four further floors until they reached the bottom of the tower. Two of the royal guards were waiting for them.

The Elf-lord smiled inwardly at his foster son’s slight grimace. Aragorn had still not fully adjusted to being a King.

Aragorn had meanwhile lit a torch, which spread a diffuse light. Without it the three men, would be helpless in this darkness.

Nonetheless, Aragorn jumped when Elladan, the Elf-lord oldest son, suddenly appeared next to him. Elrond had long sensed his son’s approach and quickly placed a restraining hand on the guard’s arm, which had already raised his sword in alarm.

“This way,” Elladan said in Weston. The small group followed the Elf without a further word. It was no longer a staircase but a stone ramp steadily leading downwards until they reached the foundations of the dark tower, many feet under the earth. The boots of the men made scrunching hollow sounds while walking.

On this floor, only storerooms and to the great dismay of the Elf-lord, the countless cells were located. Many of them had been inspected and cleared in the last two weeks, but it would need many more weeks to investigate all the small crevices used to lock away a variety of creatures, which had been unfortunate enough to become caught into the Istari´s doings.

At the end of the corridor, Elladan suddenly veered to the left and entered one of these cells. The iron barred door that Elladan pushed fully open creaked unnaturally loudly and was painful to the ear. He had to stoop for the ceiling was not high enough for the tall elf.

Elrond followed his son into the room, Aragorn followed close behind. The two guards lined up left and right of the cell-door. The cell was already dimly illuminated by two torches Glorfindel had set in the sconces on the wall. Elrond added the third torch to the others to cast more light to the corner of the room where Glorfindel was kneeling, his back to them.

The healer did not see what the warrior was cradling, yet he guessed it had to be a body. After looking more closely, he could recognize a pale limp hand beside the warrior´s knee. Elrond sighed. Another corpse and if he were not totally mistaken, the hand appeared female.

As if he had only now recognized their presence, the warrior looked up.

“Elrond, she’s alive,” was all he said, swiftly returning his attention to the limp body.

Surprised, the healer came over and knelt beside the fair-haired elf. Sadly, he beheld the naked body of a woman. Glorfindel must be mistaken. There was no longer any breath in this body. This he could see even in the dimness.

“Glorfindel…..” Elrond begun, yet the warrior interrupted him with a shake of his head.

“Elrond, she’s alive. I can feel a heartbeat and she is breathing. Slowly and faintly but it is there.”

Looking up at Elladan the Elf-lord received an imperceptible shake of the head. Aragorn had pressed his lips into a thin line.

While taking a deep breath the healer bent closer. The body Glorfindel was cradling was no more then a carcass, the skin wanly stretching over flesh long bereft of any muscles. The head appeared like a skull, the sunken eyes closed above hollowed cheeks. What remained surprisingly preserved was the long blond hair.

Under the intense gaze of his friend, Elrond reached out a hand and gently brushed a strand of hair from the ashen face and revealed……a pointed ear. The healer closed his eyes momentarily. The woman was an elf. At the same time great sadness washed over him. Another helpless victim who had died a horrible death down here…..

“Elrond listen to your intuition…...” Glorfindel said and his voice was tinged with anger. The healer looked up irritated. They had recovered so many corpses these last days, what made this woman so special?

“Adar?” Elladan inquired feeling the tension building up between the two Elf-lords.

Elrond finally reached out a hand and placed it on the cool forehead. Nearly instantly he withdrew it and looked up surprised. Glorfindel was right. The woman was still alive, even if barely.

This could not be. The body of the woman was starved and dehydrated above anything anyone, even an elf, could endure. The body temperature was far beneath anything resembling healthy. It remained a miracle how this body was still working.

“Elrond, we have to help her,” Glorfindel stated while rising, easily lifting the emaciated body. The warrior wrapped a cloak around the woman.

Already turning Elrond grabbed his advisor’s arm after he had risen too.

“Glorfindel,” he called while shaking his head unwillingly.

“I do not know why there is still life in this body and even if the unbelievable happens and we can prolong her life she will never recover or even wake up.”

For several moments, the Elf-lords gazed at one another until Glorfindel rounded on his friend and strode from the room.

Aragorn frowned after his departing mentor. What had got into the warrior? If there were to be any chance to help this poor elf then they would take it. Even the fleeting glimpse he had caught of her made him swallow hard.

Elrond directed a questioning gaze at this son. Elladan came over and dropped his voice. Aragorn raised an eyebrow. Who did he fear would overhear them?

“Glorfindel and I checked this part of the cell wing. The door to this prison was bricked up but he insisted we break it open. Otherwise we would never have found her…..,” Elladan trailed off.

Elrond nodded and turned without another word, handing the torch back to Aragorn.

“This room should be sealed again. Some secrets should remain hidden,” he muttered. The Elf-lord left the cell without a backward glance.

Aragorn looked at his elven brother inquiringly, yet Elladan only followed his father with a frown on his face.

Aragorn shook his head. He had long lived among elves. He should be used to getting no answer.

To be continued………………….