"Isildur does not jest in such things, Duitirith," said his father. "I say unto you, Isildur, that if the River were guarded, and guarded, mind you, so well that none could pass despite their numbers, then we would fear no attack. Our walls and the bridge are strong. A few hundred picked men could hold them at need against a far stronger foe. But the River is the weak point in our shield wall. There is no other fleet in all of Middle-earth mighty enough to stop the Corsairs if they should come in force."
Isildur smiled grimly. "None other? What of the White Fleet of Lindon?"
"The Elves?" stammered Duitirith. "But… Elves sailing in these waters? Oft have we heard the tales of the mighty Sea-Elves of Lindon, but never in the memory of our oldest grandsires has a swan ship breasted the seas of the south. In truth, many of us have come to believe they are but figures in the old stories. But they are said to be legendary sailors and mighty warriors."
"If the tales be true," said Barathor, "they are mighty indeed. But the tales also tell us the Grey Havens are far, far to the north, a ride of many weeks or even months away. And even if they were willing and able to come to our aid immediately, it would take weeks to prepare and provision their ships and a fortnight more at least to sail here. If a rider left today we could not hope to see them before mid-winter. Even then we would have to recall all our ships and gather and organize the seamen and then ride to Osgiliath. And yet you say you want us in Osgiliath on Midsummer's Day, and that is but a week away."
Isildur was nodding his head. "All that you say is true, my lords," he said. "And yet I say unto you, people of Pelargir," and he raised his voice so all could hear, "that even as we speak here tonight, the White Fleet of Lindon is at sea, and should now be approaching the Mouths of Anduin."
The hall erupted in confusion, with everyone speaking at once. "The Elves?" "Did he say the Elves were coming here?" "But… but…," stammered Barathor. "But how could this be?"
Isildur held up his hand for silence, and the tumult gradually subsided. "You know that we have ridden around the Ered Nimrais, mustering all the fighting men we could gather. But we are not alone. Even as we left Gorgoroth on this long journey, others were setting out on another, far longer, journey. Gildor Inglorion, one of the greatest of the Elvish captains, rode north at the bidding of his lord Gil-galad. He was to ride north, to seek aid in the lands of Lothlórien and Khazad-dûm. From thence he was to ride to Cirdan the Shipwright at Mithlond. Gil-galad's orders to Cirdan were to put the White Fleet in readiness and to sail to Osgiliath at once with every ship that can swim."
"But could he have reached Mithlond already?" asked Guthmar. "That is four hundred leagues at least."
"It is two months and more since we departed from the Barad-dûr together, and Elves ride very swiftly at need. Gildor was told to make all haste, so that they should be at Osgiliath for the Council. They should be sighted any day."
"But this is news good beyond all hope," cried Heleth, her lovely smile breaking out for the first time. "To think that Elves would sail all that long way for our help. Elves! I have never even seen one of the Firstborn. Elves to guard us! Oh, I feel as if a weight has been lifted from me!"
"Aye," said Barathor. "With the Elves beside us, we would fear no enemy." But he gave Isildur a canny glance. "But they were not summoned here to protect Pelargir. I suspect the Alliance had other plans for Cirdan's Sea-Elves. Is that not so, Sire?"
Isildur nodded. "The Lords of the Alliance had thought to send the Elves against Mordor with us. But in truth they are more used to decks beneath their feet than deserts. With the Corsairs abroad again, they could be better employed guarding the coast and defending the Anduin. Then if Pelargir were freed of those duties…." He looked meaningfully at Barathor.
Barathor looked at his captains, judging their reactions as he spoke. "I say unto you, Sire," he said, "that if the White Fleet is as mighty as legends tell, and if they were deployed across the mouths of Anduin and at strategic points along the coast, we would feel more secure than we have in many a long year. Then the men of Pelargir would flock to your banner and follow you to the ends of the earth if need be."
His men cheered long and lustily. Isildur realized how torn they had been between their duty to their king and their duty to their city and their families. Freed at last of the fear of the Corsairs, they were eager to go to the aid of their country. He looked on their faces with affection.
"Then you will ride with me when Cirdan arrives?" he asked, and every man in the hall rose to his feet and shouted his allegiance. Isildur was truly touched.
But Barathor was clearly still worried. "This messenger Gildor you spoke of, his road was long and perilous," he said, "and Cirdan's course no less so. As seamen, we all know that the winds and seas play havoc with a schedule. Much could have befallen them that would make them late. I could not recall the fleet until the Elves arrive."
"But we cannot wait," said Isildur. "Many preparations must be made if you are to ride with me. And Cirdan may arrive only in time for the Council of Osgiliath. If we wait until he arrives it will be too late for us to march to Osgiliath. Can you not at least start the muster?"
Barathor thought for a moment. "This much I can do, Sire. I will call the fleet back within the Anduin and withdraw them from the coasts and the Bay of Belfalas. The coastal settlements will like it not, but with luck they will be safe for a few days. With all the ships in the River I could recall them all in less than a day when the Elves arrive. In the meantime we shall begin the muster. We will be ready to ride with you as soon as the Elves are in place."
"So be it," said Isildur, much relieved.
Barathor turned to a tall dark man near at hand. "Telemnar!" he called. "Send the signals. All outlying ships are to be recalled. Let those patrolling off the Ethir Anduin withdraw into the River. I want only four scouts patrolling the bay, the fastest vessels you have. Have the best lookouts at the mastheads. When the Elves are sighted, they are to be contacted at once and instructed in Isildur's orders. See that they array themselves in sufficient strength and order at the Ethir, then all ships are to return to Pelargir with all possible speed." The man bowed and hurried away.
"Duitirith! Let heralds be sent to every corner of our realm. Every man capable of fighting is to arm himself and come to Pelargir as soon as possible. We shall ride to war with our king!"
For the next three days the city was a hive of activity. Merchants and townsmen were turning over their businesses and duties to their wives or to men too old or too young to go to the war. Companies of soldiers marched in from border checkpoints and strongholds along the banks of Anduin. Other groups marched up from the River, their rolling gait revealing them as seamen from the ships lying at the quays. Wagons and trains of loaded beasts passed in from all directions. The markets were frantically trying to meet the demand for food, weapons, clothing and blankets. Small groups of farmers and fishermen from the surrounding villages started arriving, mingling with the crowds in the streets and adding to the confusion. But still there was no word of the Elves.
On the third morning Isildur and Ohtar walked through the city streets to see Barathor. As they crossed one of the city's many large squares, they stopped to watch a ragged company of adolescent boys marching back and forth. Sweating heavily and wearing armor a size too large for them, they were being drilled in basic military maneuvers by a bellowing and exasperated old soldier.