Cirdan shook his head, his grey hair swaying. "I wish you well, Isildur, but it takes great power of good to cleanse a place where once the Morgul spells were spoken. Ithilien perhaps, but I fear for Minas Ithil. Perhaps it would be best to pull it down and begin anew in some other valley."
"No!" hissed Isildur. "No. Minas Ithil is my city and my home. If Sauron found the power to defile it, then somewhere there must be the power to cleanse it. I shall seize that power and use it to make all of Gondor clean and whole again." Cirdan looked at Isildur's determined face and said no more, and the company moved now in melancholy silence, save for the creaking of leather saddles and the occasional clank of metal.
The road continued to ascend, winding across the floor of a bowl-shaped valley at the head of Ithil Vale. Elrond let his horse choose his own footing among the rocks littering the trail. He sat back in his saddle and eyed the precipices of the final sawtooth ridge, still high above them.
"This road is bad enough," he said at last to Ohtar riding nearby, "but I think I see a worse. See? There, high on the northern wall."
Ohtar followed his pointing arm and could just make out a thin line etched across the wall, above a sheer drop of many hundreds of feet to the streambed below.
"You have keen eyes, my lord," he said. "I have been in this valley many times and I had never marked it. If it is a trail, it could be a path I have heard of in old tales. A road of evil memory."
Elrond shaded his eyes with his hand as he peered up at it. "I should not remember it kindly either if I had to travel it. Look at that drop!"
"It is not just the way itself, my lord, but there are legends of a fearsome creature, a she-monster, that lurks there and snares hapless travellers."
"What a pleasant road! Has it a name?"
"It is called Cirith Ungol, my lord."
"The Pass of the Spider," said Elrond. "A lovely name. I wonder that anyone ever ventures upon it. Is it ever used?"
Elendur joined their conversation. "Not by Men that I know of, my lord. I climbed up there once with some friends, but we did not venture far, not having wings. It is little more than a goat track in most places, but someone or something had long ago widened it."
"We guessed that the orcs came that way when they attacked Minas Ithil," said Isildur, "for this main road was well guarded. I wonder what grisly toll they paid to she who guards the pass?"
Elrond sighed. "This ride seems doomed to cheerless conversation. How far to the top?"
Isildur glanced at the sun, just starting her descent into the west behind them. "Another hour, perhaps two," he said.
"It will be growing dark by then," said Cirdan. "Do you believe the pass will be guarded?"
"I would be surprised if it is not. There is a watchtower there that we built to defend Ithilien. If the orcs have not pulled it down, they no doubt will have occupied it."
"Then again we must strike swiftly, for the night is their friend, not ours. They can see in the dark like cats."
"Yes," agreed Isildur. "I think we must win the pass tonight before the light is fully gone, for I have no wish to spend the night here while Sauron may be hurrying reinforcements to the pass. If we can cross tonight, we can rest on the ride down the far side of the mountains. It is less steep on that side and the road is good. But we must make as many leagues as we can. We must be at the Barad-dûr before he comes forth, and that could happen at any time."
"It is a hundred weary miles from here to the Barad-dûr," said Gildor. "We cannot hope to come there tomorrow if we ride all night and day. Both Men and horses must sleep, or they will be of no use when they reach the Tower. And the Elves must seek their rest. Everyone is nearly exhausted already."
"Perhaps we can find a sheltered valley on the eastern side in which to lie and rest for a few hours," said Isildur. "But we must win the pass tonight if ever we can."
And so they pressed on, toiling ever upward. The Sirlos was no longer below them, its source lost somewhere among the jumble of boulders at the foot of the wall. The trail high above them was no longer visible either, apparently climbing out of the valley through some secret way or tunnel. The sun had now sunk so that it no longer shone down into the valley and they rode now in purple shadow, though above them the high ridges were orange and yellow against the darkening sky.
The road wound up a long steep slope strewn with huge tumbled and leaning rocks, some taller than the highest towers of Osgiliath. The air grew chill, then cold; and men and horses shivered as their sweat dried in the thin wind. At last, just as the highest peaks were fading to a dull red, the slope decreased and they saw the pass just above them. Isildur gave the order to halt the column in the shelter of a heap of huge boulders. The leaders left their horses with Ohtar and crept forward, keeping in the shadows of the rocks. In a few moments they reached a tall pinnacle that marked the last cover before the pass. Silently they climbed the jagged crag until they could see the summit of the pass before them.
"I see neither guards nor tower," said Gildor.
"The watchtower is just beyond the pass," answered Isildur, "for it was built to face east, not west. For once my own defenses are not turned against us. If fortune is with us Malithôr did not stop to warn them. Orcs make poor and unreliable sentries, especially in a remote and lonely outpost such as this. Like as not they will get in out of the cold wind and fall to gaming and quarreling, their favorite pursuits."
"I also see no barricade at the summit."
"No. There was not one of old, for the tower was built as a watchtower only. I had feared the orcs might have built a wall, but surely they would have built it there on the right, where the road goes through that narrow passage. Apparently they did not expect an assault from the west."
"Why should they?" said Elrond. "They know the armies of Gondor and Lindon are both already in Gorgoroth. They have no reason to suspect the existence of our host."
"Unless our friend Malithôr has reached them," growled Isildur.
"Let us then form up in battle order before they discover us," said Cirdan, "and ride hard over the summit in a body. When they see our numbers they will be none too eager to fight. Orcs like a fight only when their foes are weak and few. With any luck we can drive right through them and be on our way down the other side before they can collect their wits."
"Very well," agreed Isildur. "But let one company assail the tower while the rest of the host crosses the pass. I would not have the entire column ride by the foot of the tower under fire."
"Agreed. Pass the word to form up the divisions. And be as silent as possible." They climbed down and crept back to the others. The quartermasters were moving along the column, handing up waybread to the riders. The hostlers went about placing feedbags on the horses and brought skins of water for all.
Elendur approached Isildur. "Father, I would lead the attack on the tower if I might. This is the last outpost of Ithilien, and it would give me great pleasure to drive the orcs out of it."
"Very well," said Isildur. "But take care. Remember we do not have to take the tower. The important thing is to keep the orc archers pinned down until the column is past. Once we are past, the orcs may keep the tower until we return for all I care. And do not chase any that escape. They will be no threat to us. So take no unnecessary risks. I want you at my side in Gorgoroth."