They dragged his body behind a column and closed the door that led into a kitchen. Examining his sack, they found two hard crusts of bread, two browning apples, and a clay flask full of a harsh red wine that smelled of vinegar.
"A good sign," whispered Galdor, his lips nearly touching Amroth's ear. "No doubt provisions for guards in the tower. If there be but two, we may be able to take them quietly." Amroth nodded. Taking up the sack, they crept up the winding stairs, turn after turn until they lost all sense of direction. At the top they came to a heavy wooden door. They pushed gently, but it was latched or barred from the other side.
Galdor grinned. He stamped heavily on the floor, then dropped the sack beside the door. The flask broke with a clatter. There was commotion on the other side of the door. Then a hoarse voice croaked.
"Gordrog, you clumsy bag of pus! If you've fallen and spilled our wine I'll have your eyes out for it. Gordrog? Do you hear me, you maggot?" Suddenly the door was yanked open and a very angry orc stormed out, still cursing. Amroth's sword flashed down and the orc's head bounded away down the stairs, the eyes wide and surprised, the lips still twisting in anger. His body fell heavily at their feet and they leaped over it into the chamber, weapons at the ready. But the room was empty. Gordrog must have been bringing food for the two of them.
It was a round room with shuttered windows on each side. A wooden table stood in the center, littered with filth and lit by a guttering candle. Various pieces of arms and armor lay scattered about the walls. Beside one window stood a large basket of arrows and crossbow bolts. A massive crossbow leaned against the wall. They snuffed the candle, then opened the shutter and peered cautiously out.
They were high above the square, looking down on all the neighboring buildings. Directly below was the barricade at the Bridge. They settled down to wait. An hour or so later, a dozen orcs came out of the building opposite and joined the others at the barricade. Angry words broke out, mixed with a string of curses. A scuffle broke out between two of them. The leader, a huge brownish orc with a long hooked beak, clubbed one with the haft of his spear to restore order. The stricken orc dropped senseless to the pavement. His comrades ignored him. They took up positions, lounging against the barricade. Four or five squatted in a corner and took to rolling dice, now and again breaking out into arguments.
Some time later, Galdor caught Amroth's sleeve and pointed to a rooftop across from them. Several dark shadows flitted swiftly across a patch of moonlight, but whether friend or foe they could not tell. The moon set soon after, throwing the city into blackness. They raiders withdrew into themselves, waiting silently for dawn, though their eyes were turned toward the dark shapes of the buildings and walls to the west across Anduin.
Isildur sat astride his grey charger Fleetfoot and patted his long muscular neck. The spirited animal was skittish, for he could smell the excitement and nervous tension in the many men and horses crowded around him. They were moving slowly and as silently as possible down a dark and narrow street, the horses' hooves muffled with rags. They turned corner after corner, always descending to the riverfront. When they at last reached the large square that had formerly been the bustling marketplace of the waterfront, they found it packed with armored riders. Isildur led his own housecarls, the men who had ridden with him from Gorgoroth, through the press. Ohtar rode at his knee, as he had at so many battles before. At last they came out of the crowd and there before them was the wide avenue leading east to the Great Bridge. It was empty and silent, for they had forbidden anyone to approach beyond the square.
The Elf-lords were already there: Celeborn and Gildor and Elrond and the Lady Galadriel, their grey cloaks drawn about them against the pre-dawn chill. They greeted one another with nods, no more. Isildur drew up beside the Lady and they looked down the long straight avenue to the dark loom of the gates, the gates that marked the western end of the Bridge.
"The false dawn came and went a few moments ago," said Galadriel, a mist escaping from her hood as she spoke. "It will be true dawn soon."
"Aye," said Isildur, looking to the eastern mountains. "There is a hint of grey above the Ephel Dúath. Soon, away in the east, the sun will strike the summit of Orodruin. Elendil and Gil-galad will be there to see it, their thoughts bent on us here, wondering how we fare. And we will ride to them though all the hosts of Mordor stand between us."
"And those hosts wait but on the other side of yonder gate," said Galadriel.
Isildur nodded. "Arannon, the Gate of the King, it is called. Once it was but an arch, through which on festival days processions would march between the two parts of the city, with girls scattering blossoms before them. Heralds would stand atop the arch and sound fanfares on their long brazen trumpets. The sun would shine down on the crowds and you would swear that no two wore the same color.
"But then the war came and the entire eastern sector of the city was wrested from us. Only by fierce and bloody battle did we hold the Bridge. A strong wall was hastily thrown up and the arch became a gate. Never did they take it, though they tried it again and again. Occasionally we would throw open the gate and sortie out against them. After many assaults, they learned to respect and fear that gate, for, open or closed, it meant only death for them.
"They tried to cross at other points, but we had thrown down all the lesser bridges and our hails of arrows emptied their boats before they could cross. It is almost two years now since last they assailed us in force.That gate has been our shield all these years, and now we propose to throw it open and reach beyond it."
"A shield which cannot be moved is of little use in a battle, Isildur," said Galadriel. "We Ringbearers are Gondor's shield now, and you its sword. Neither shield nor sword can remain behind walls when the horns of war are calling. Perhaps soon those doors can be pulled down and it will become an arch of triumph for you!"
Isildur smiled. "You speak fair words of hope, Lady. Spring they from Elvish visions of what will be, or are they but a woman's words of comfort to a warrior?"
"If there be a difference I know it not. For do we not all have visions of what the future may hold? And words of comfort may strengthen our cause as much as deeds of arms, and bring these visions to pass. My visions are not of what will be, but of what can be. Sauron too has his dream of what can be. It is our part to determine which vision shall prevail."
Isildur lowered his voice so that only she could hear. "Lady, if you can see somewhat of the future, tell me this: Can Sauron be defeated? Or do we ride to certain death, as I sometimes fear in this darkest hour of the night?"
A look of surprise crossed Galadriel's lovely face framed in its cowl. "Of course it is possible to defeat him. My vision sees many possible futures, and in some he is indeed thrown down. But I am not shown how that can be accomplished. Is your view of the future so short that you cannot see even the possibility of victory?"
"My Lady, we Men share not your Elvish senses. The future is wholly dark to us."
"And do you then suspect our task is hopeless?"
"I would never say it before any of my people, Lady, but when I think of his hideous might and power, his ruthless cruelty; truly, my heart misgives me."
"You Atani never cease to surprise me," she said. "We Quendi know, perhaps better than you, the terrible danger into which we ride and the desperate chance we take by doing so. But always we know that victory is possible; that the future good is never completely closed to us. But you Men, knowing nothing of all that, gird yourselves in nothing but baseless hope and ride into the glimmerless dark. Your path is never lighted, save behind you, where all futures have collapsed into one immutable past. We ride side by side against the same foes, and yet who shall say who has the greater courage?"