Chapter 1 –The Challenge
The morning sun was beaming down on the forecourt of the Gondorian stables as Elessar , King of Gondor, made his way toward the white stone structure.
He, his people and his realm had been blessed with glorious weather for the past two days, and this day was hopefully going to be no different.
The festival celebrating the third anniversary of the Battle of the Black Gates and the final defeat of Sauron had been a huge success.
After the first two anniversaries had passed quietly, due the people, the city and the countryside as a whole still coming to terms with, and repairing the damage caused by, the siege of Gondor, the Battle of the Pelennor Fields and the final battle in Mordor, he and his council had decided to make this anniversary a true celebration.
The citizens of Minas Tirith along with those of South Ithilien, the Elf colony of Ithilien and the people of Rohan had all gathered on the fields of Pelennor.
Tumblers ,artists and musicians had all gathered to give free performances and to participate in various contests. Stalls offering many and varied wares had been set up and were doing a roaring trade. Traders from many parts of Middle Earth had come and were doing deals by the dozen. Horse breeders and sellers were haggling and swapping facts about blood lines and stock. Games had been organized for the children with Arwen giving out the prizes.
Arwen and children they seemed natural together. She was very good with them and in return they responded to her. She had played with them and had partaken in some of the story telling session set up for the little ones, telling them stories of the Eldar that she had translated into Westron.
Arwen, Elessar smiled at the though of his wife and queen. How he loved her. Seeing her with the children of Gondor had made his heart skip a beat. She would be a wonderful mother.
The culmination of the festival was a series of horse races. The event had been open to all and many elimination races were held. Slowly the field was reduced until there had been four riders left. These four would race off to see which two of them would compete in the final race.
He and Brego were in the first of the two semi-finals; they had been paired with Granith of South Ithilien and his black stallion. Legolas and Arod were in the second with Ranoth of Rohan and his chestnut stallion.
Although all now accepted that Brego was of Gondor and that Arod was now an Elven horse, Eomer King of Rohan was beside himself with joy. A fall and the resultant knee injury had kept the King of the Mark from competing himself, but to his unrestrained delight three of the four horses running in the semi finals were of the Mark.
Elessar had won his race easily and was sitting on Brego’s back watching the second race. Legolas and Arod shot past the other rider and crossed the finish line well in the lead. This was how he had hoped the racing would turn out, he and Brego against Legolas and Arod.
A responsible amount of time was left between the semi finals and the final so to rest the two great stallions. This time had been used by many observers to set up wagers. From what he had heard, money was placed equally between himself and Legolas.
Two Gondorian grooms led them both to the starting line of the circular track that had been used all day. At the signal from Arwen the pair had taken off, twice around the large circle did Brego and Arod run, it was an exhilarating ride, at times Brego would get his nose in front only to be oveertaken by the silver horse, at other times Arod would sneak into the lead, and it would be Bregos’ turn to catch up with his chosen brother’s horse.
The two of them had crossed the finishing line together, nothing at all between them. Spectators had crowded around them congratulating them both. Eomer especially had been pleased, and made no secret of that fact.
Both he and Legolas had been pleased with the result, neither really wanting to beat the other, although he suspected both secretly had been hoping that their mount would win, for their own sense of pride. He knew that was certainly true of himself.
Then out of nowhere someone in the crowd had suggested a tie breaking race, but not over the flat. This had been seized on by others in the crowd and had grown to such an extent that it could not be stopped.
The sideways glance he had thrown to the Elf Lord of Ithilien had said that if he wanted to he did not have to do this. Legolas had answered with a shrug of no. He would be a party to whatever the crowd, and by now their friends, could dream up.
The plan turned out to be a cross country race. Starting at the Gates of Gondor, racing around the base of the White Mountains, into the fringe of the wooded area there, back out , a quick sweep into the Pelennor fields and a final sprint back to the Gates. To make it a real test of endurance, there would be obstacles the pair would have to avoid, cross, and jump over.
The twinkles of delight that had appeared in the eyes of Eomer, King of Rohan, Faramir, Lord Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien, and Gimli, Lord of the Glittering Caves, ensured that their course twould be an interesting one. The three of them having quickly volunteered to lay it out.
Even Arwen, his wife and Queen, had been in on the plot, ensuring that neither he nor Legolas left the citadel to see just what it was the three conspirators had in mind.
Even Brego knew that something was about to happen. The great brown horse was standing forward in his stall, his ears pricked up, his eyes wide and looking around for his master.
Smiling and giving his stallions neck as quick pat, Elessar reached for the curry brush and began to clean Brego’s coat.
In the next stall, the one that was always kept in the stable of Gondor for him and him alone, stood Legolas’s grey stallion Arod. The grey was tossing his head and stamping his foot almost as if in anticipation of what was to come. Even the horses had picked up on the mood.
“Steady boys, whoa,” Elessar said to the pair in what he hoped was a soft soothing tone. “It will not be much longer.”
“It would start a lot quicker if you had gotten up earlier, Estel,” the teasing voice of Legolas said as he poked his head around the divider at the rear of the stalls.
“And good morning to you too, Legolas,” the King returned, huge smile on his face.
The years of friendship and shared trials between the pair meant that such informalities, even though Elessar was the King, were a given and perfectly natural.
“Are you two just going to stand there all day?” the jovial voice of Eomer broke in. The young King of Rohan was standing before them, the wicked grin he had been wearing the night before still plastered on his face.
Beside him, and both also still wearing their evil grins of the night before, were Faramir and Gimli.
Some part of Elessar wondered vaguely if all three of them had gone to bed wearing those grins.
“Those animals are pretty enough as it is,” Gimli announced in his broad, gruff voice. “There’s a race to be run, let’s be about it.”
“Would you care to join us, Master Dwarf?” Legolas asked, throwing Elessar a knowing wink as he led Arod past Brego’s stall. “There is plenty of room on Arod’s back,” He turned and gazed at the vacant space on Arod’s back “as you well know.”
“No, no,” Gimli answered backing away from the tall grey stallion. He knew just what his friends would be facing and wanted not to be there. “It would …” he paused trying to think up the perfect excuse,“…give the King an unfair advantage,” he finished.
“And we can not have that, can we?” Elessar joked back and threw his chosen brother a wink of his own.
A fair sized crowd had gathered to see the final race between the King of Gondor and the Elf Lord of Ithilien
Elessar recognized many of them, most had been there crowded around Legolas and himself the day before. One, however was missing. The one who had started the call for this race to happen.
The puzzle of the missing face was forgotten as Eomer started his instructions to them.
The King of Rohan was back on his favourite horse for the first time since he had damaged his knee, but the joint was far from healed and he could do little more than maintain a steady canter, even though he itched to be out there, taming the course he had set for his friends.
“From here,” the young King began, “you swing right out towards the Togarth River, jump the river at its narrowest point, head into the trees at the very edge of the Five Trees Forest, in there we..” he paused to glance at his co conspirators, “have place several objects that you have to either avoid outright or jump over, then continue following our markers till you re-emerge further along the tree line, again cross the Togarth, swing onto the Pelennor and then it’s a flat run back to the Gates.” he finished. “Clear?”
Both Elessar and Legolas nodded.
This was going to be a challenge, and both were looking forward to it.
After the past few years, what with the Quest of the Fellowship, the Battle for Helm’s Deep, Pelennor and the Black Gate, this was like old times, when it had been just Estel or Aragorn, depending on which phase of his life the King was in, and Legolas. Young, carefree and spirited, ready to face anything.
“Remember, you two youngsters,” Gimli added, “stay within the markers, we made sure that enough space was left for two horses to race side, by side, just in case not even what we created could separate you”
Brego twitched beneath him and stomped the ground impatiently with his right hoof, beside him Arod was showing signs of the same impatient behaviour.
Elessar caught the feelings of the two stallions, and a glance in Legolas’s direction told him that the Prince was feeling the same thing. All of them just wanted to get started
“Then let the race begin,” he said
As the wind raced through his hair, Elessar admitted that Eomer, Gimli and Faramir had done themselves proud with their course. So far, and this was still while Minas Tirith was visible, he and Legolas had cleared three jumps, had passed by two obstacles where soldiers had thrust tree branches in their path, and ploughed their way up and over a man-made earth mound.
This was the challenge he had longed for, excitement and a little bit of danger without having to fight someone, or have a mortal enemy trying to split you in two.
With the Togarth in sight he urged Brego to pick up the pace, beside him as always, never faltering, was Arod. On his back he could see Legolas smiling , his blue eyes alive with the challenge and the excitement he was feeling.
“Enjoying yourself?” Elessar called out over the roaring of the wind.
“Enormously, Gwador-nin,” The Elf laughingly called back “and you?”
“The same,” the King replied and kneed Brego. “See you after the river.”
Under him Brego sprang forth, creating a small gap between himself and Arod. Legolas responded by calling to his horse to answer the burst of speed, which the great grey did willingly.
Seeing the Togarth rapidly approaching, Brego readied himself and leapt across the watery landmark, clearing it well and landing safely on the other side. Pleased Elessar bent forward and stoked the brown’s neck.
His joy at taking the lead was short lived as cleanly, and with virtually no noise to announce his arrival, Arod landed beside him, Legolas was, grinning like a Mirkwood Spider that had just cornered its prey, on his back.
The Elf Prince whispered into the grey’s ear and the pair took off like scalded Fell Beasts. Something smooth and shiny fell through the air towards him and Elessar heard Legolas call,
“Gwador, catch!”
Reaching out his hand, the King caught the flying object and found it was the stone Legolas wore about his neck. Smiling wickedly, Elessar slipped the necklace around his own neck.. Legolas had just issued his own personal challenge to him.
Catch me if you can!
After clearing the first of two fallen logs, he caught sight of the grey stallion. Legolas was not that far ahead of him. He kneed Brego again, asking for yet another turn of speed from his faithful companion.
Brego, possibly feeling his own pride was on the line, accepted the order.
Gradually, the gap between the brown stallion and the grey one decreased, and Elessar found himself level with Arod’s tail, then the back of Legolas’s saddle, and then finally he was once again in line with the Elf Prince.
He was just about to return the bauble that was hanging about his neck to its rightful owner when suddenly and with out warning Brego reared. Caught unaware and with his right hand off the reins Elessar found himself falling. Twisting in mid air, hoping not to damage, his back, he landed face down on a stray log.
Grasping as pain lanced through his right arm, Elessar tried to roll over, his left hand at once going to his right shoulder. The swelling of the skin between his right shoulder and his neck confirmed his worst fears. His right collarbone was, at best broken, at worst shattered.
The sound of feet softly landing beside him told him that his chosen brother had dismounted Arod and was now standing beside him.
“Stay down, Estel,” Legolas whispered quietly into his right ear. “We are not alone. You are injured. I will do what I can.”
Finally managing to roll over, Elessar saw that Legolas was standing over him, his body and hands in an Elven fighting stance.
Looking around them, Elessar could not stop the grimace of pain and dismay as he noted that indeed he and Legolas were not alone.
Surrounding them were Corsairs, pirates of the sea, and they were armed with clubs baring the same cruel spikes he had seen only once before, spikes attached to the lines strung between the tusks of the Oliphants that had charged across the fields of Pelennor.
The Corsairs and the Haradiam had joined forces.
The pain of moving churned his stomach, causing him to dry retch, the nausea of the action sent his head into a spin, and the last thing Elessar saw before the blackness claimed him was a Corsair creeping up from behind his chosen brother and bringing one of the vicious clubs down on the back of the Elf’s head.
Legolas went down in a boneless heap, and Elessar’s world folded in on him.