When the king had spoken, the hall grew still and it was as if a chill vapor out of the east had filled the chamber. Ingold drew his cloak about his shoulders and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Please do not misunderstand my hesitation, Sire," he said finally. "It is not that we shrink from a fight, or from helping our friends. But we heard years ago that the Alliance had broken the Morannon and encircled the Dark Tower. We rejoiced at your triumphs and looked daily for messengers flying up from the lowlands with the news of your final victory. But that is more than six years ago now. If the mighty armies of the Elves and the Dúnedain are unable to force him out, what can this small army hope to accomplish? In truth, Sire, is victory still possible against so mighty a foe?"
Isildur studied Ingold closely. Ohtar again saw that dark glint of suspicion in Isildur's eyes. He leaned forward. "He is strong beyond your dreams," he said. "He is neither Man nor Elf. If truth, we do not even know if it is possible for him to be slain. But we too have our powers. The mighty magic and ancient strength of the Elves is at our side. Gil-galad of the Elves bears his mighty spear Aeglos, Snowpoint the Bright, forged in Gondolin an age ago, doomed by great spells to be Sauron's Bane. And beside Gil-galad stands my father Elendil the Tall, High King of the Realms in Exile and he wields Narsil Flameheart, the blade that none may withstand. They lead the warriors of Gondor and Arnor and the Elves of Lindon, and our friends of many other lands beside. If there be any in Middle-earth in these later days who might best the Dark Lord, these be they.
"And yet the balance is close. It is our hope that a cunning stroke, unlooked for, might yet carry the day. To this end the Kings have sent me throughout the provinces to seek out brave men wherever they can be found who will aid us in this our hour of greatest need."
Ingold stroked his beard thoughtfully. "You say you have come from Erech in the land of Romach. They are a strong and bold people, yet I do not see the banner of the Eredrim in your host. Did you not meet with Romach?"
The king's eyes searched those of Ingold intently. He did not like this hesitation. Perhaps the men of Calembel too would prove unwilling. He spoke sternly. "The Eredrim swore allegiance to me a century ago when first I came to this land. Now when I call them to fulfill their oath, they refuse. They have become willing tools of the Enemy. I have laid a doom upon them, and they are lost both to us and to hope. I urge you to have no further dealings with them. But enough of the faithless Eredrim. Now what of the men of Lamedon? Are you allies of Elendil or of Sauron?"
Ingold met the king's gaze levelly. Then he suddenly rose to his feet and swept out his sword with a ringing clang. Ohtar started and his hand dropped beneath the table to his hilt, but the king made no move. Then Ingold turned the sword in his hand and offered the hilt to Isildur.
"Isildur King," he cried in a loud voice, "we are your subjects and your friends! The men of Lamedon shall ride with you wheresoever you lead, yea, even unto death!" At this the men of Lamedon rose as one and raised their swords. "For Isildur!" they cried, "For Isildur and Gondor."
Then Isildur rose too and smiled at them. "You are brave men and loyal friends. Glad will I be to have you at my side." He raised his cup in salute to the soldiers. "But I pray that I lead you not to death, but to victory. But for now, it will be neither. We are bound now only to Linhir and thence to Pelargir. My folk must ride as soon as they are fed and rested. Ingold, I would have you muster as many men as you can spare and join us in Linhir three days hence. But I pray you, leave a capable garrison at Tarlang's Neck, for Romach is no longer to be trusted. I doubt that he will attack, but this Lamedon of yours is a fair land and I would not have it fall into evil hands."
"Nor I, Sire," answered Ingold. "It shall be done as you command. Messengers shall be dispatched to every corner of Lamedon this very hour. And the ancient watchtowers above the Neck shall be manned again, as has not been since the dark days ere you Dúnedain brought peace to the southern shores. But the time is short and we are not a numerous people. I fear we cannot raise more than a few hundreds."
"I have seen this day an example of the valor of your people. If all are as these in Calembel, your hundreds shall be worth thousands of the enemy. To Linhir, then, and may success crown our alliance." Isildur turned to depart, but Ingold spoke again.
"A moment more, Sire, if you please. If haste is required, perhaps I can be of some further help. Your army is afoot and travels but slowly. The men of Ringlo away in the south are our brothers. In the great green valley of the Gilrain too live many stout folk who bear no love for Sauron's orcs. It would take you days to travel to all the settlements. Let me send riders to Ethring and to the hill men who live nigh to the sources of the Ringlo. We can ask them to join us in Linhir."
The king clapped his hand on Ingold's shoulder. "I see you have more than your courage and strong right arm to offer us. Let it be done as you suggest. We shall wait in Linhir for two days to gather our new forces. My thanks to you, Ingold of Calembel. Now, Ohtar, let us ride."
Within the hour the army was assembled without the walls. As they set out, horsemen thundered from the gate and galloped past the column and down the long hill toward Ethring. Others wheeled as they left the gates and spurred their mounts up the steep slopes to the north and east. The great drum of Calembel boomed and rolled in the hollows of the hills, and from the high meadows came back, shrill and faint, the horns of shepherds and cotsmen. As they topped a rise, Isildur turned in his saddle and looked back at the great tilted green bowl of Lamedon with little Calembel nestled at its lip.
"A pleasant place, is it not, Ohtar?" he said as they rode on. "Oftimes I think I might have been a happier man had I been born a goatherd in such a place as this. Then would many-towered Osgiliath be but a fair name in travellers' tales, and the Enemy but a shadow with which to frighten unruly children. I would tend my goats and raise my family in peace, and let the world and its cares pass by unmarked on the road below. It would not be a bad life."
"But Sire," objected Ohtar. "If you were not a king then you would not have your faithful squire at your side. Would you have me go back to scratching at the unforgiving rocks of the Emyn Arnen for a living?"
Isildur gave his great laugh. "No, no, that would never do. I fear we must all fulfill whatever is our doom."
At that moment they spied a very large man hurrying down a precipitous path to the road before them. He wore the hides of a herdsman and his matted beard and bristling brows jutted from beneath a close-fitting goatskin cap pulled down over his ears. In one calloused hand he bore a massive spear, its wooden point blackened by fire. He scrambled down the bank in a slither of rock and stood blocking the road. A fierce and determined barbarian he looked, with his bare legs spread wide beneath his tunic of stained skins. As the van of the column approached he called out in a booming voice.
"Stand! The drums of war call in Calembel and I answer to find armed strangers in the land. Tell me quickly: are you friends or foes of Lamedon?"
Isildur raised his hand, halting the column. The men stared at the man in some astonishment, but the king answered him civilly enough. "We are friends of this land and its people. We have just come from an interview with your Master Ingold," he said.