Chapter 43

                                    

                                          
Beruthiel and Gimli hurried after Legolas, Gimli lagging behind a little. Night had fallen and torches began to flicker to life on the walls, red and orange against the foreboding grey stone. Thick clouds covered the sky, veiling the stars. The moon could be seen as only a faint spot of white and it looked like rain.
Throughout the Keep, men were peering over the walls and calling for someone to send for the king. "Open the gate!" one of them cried in order. Open the gate? Beruthiel thought, hurrying along behind Legolas, her cloak whipping behind her. More refugees?
Then the gates opened beneath them and an army marched in.
An army of elves.
Théoden quickly walked down the stairs, two of his generals in tow. He greeted the captain of the elves, saying, "How is this possible?"
The leader stepped forward. Beruthiel squinted at his face as she reached the final flight of stairs. He seemed familiar - had she seen him in Lorien? "I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell," he said in a smooth voice, slightly accented by the Sindarin tongue. "An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago we fought and died together." He touched his hand to his chest and extended it to the King as Aragorn and Legolas ran down the stairs, Gimli and Beruthiel close behind. "We come in honor of that alliance."
Aragorn looked pleased to see the elf as he hurried past the king. "Mae govannen, Haldir!" he greeted.
Haldir. Now Beruthiel remembered. This was the captain of the company that had greeted them at the borders of Lorien. The one who had told Gimli that he breathes so loud, they could have shot him in the dark.
Aragorn stopped in front of the elf and then, without warning, took him in a warm embrace. Haldir looked extremely shocked, eventually touching Aragorn's back very lightly in return. Aragorn took a step back, holding Haldir by the shoulders. "You are most welcome."
Legolas came down the stairs as well, also embracing Haldir but a little less enthusiastically and more in elven fashion. The army of elves lowered their bows and shields in perfect unison around them, turning toward the King.
"We are proud to fight alongside men once more," Haldir said with a faint smile.
Théoden was extremely grateful for this supplement to his forces. Amendments to the guard on the walls and the garrisons were immediately made, backing up pikes with elven archers. Now golden helms and breastplates shone in the moonlight beside the Rohirrim pikemen and archers defending the wall.
Beruthiel quickly hurried off in the direction of the caves before Aragorn could see her. Her cloak surrounded her like a shadow and she kept her saxe knife in her hand, suddenly remembering Faerthurin and what he had promised her. She suppressed the memory of his sneering face as she ducked behind a building.
She found a spot in the defenses beside a group of swordsmen and quietly slid in, hoping none of them would confront her. Unfortunately, that was exactly what they did.
"Who are you, lad?" the tallest of them asked - she presumed him to be the captain of that group of soldiers by his slightly more intricate helm.
"Grimthain, sir," Beruthiel quickly answered, making up a male name and dropping her voice low. Her hood covered her face and she hoped he couldn't tell by her stature that she was not, in fact, a male.
"They've sent you over to us?" he asked dubiously.
"Aye," Beruthiel answered, slipping into a Rohirrim accent. "To join the archers, sir."
"We have more than enough archers with these elves," one of the other men, with golden hair and golden beard, said darkly. "Can you wield a sword or pike, lad?"