Yours to Command

Opening Moves

At the start of the game it is imperative to gain control of the centre of the board and to secure all the vital pieces. Striking quickly and decisively, the opponent can be weakened to such an extent that he will never recover.

(Ulfang: Shah – A King's Game.)

***

The sun rising behind the jagged peaks of the Ephel Dúath bathed the upper levels of Minas Tirith in its first tentative rays, but the fields of the Pelennor still lay in the shadow, quiescent. Muzgâsh watched the smoke from a few cooking fires rise in lazy spirals in the still morning air. From his vantage point on the wall of the Third Level, he had a clear view of the green fields stretching out to the north until they met the encircling Rammas Echor.

The King of Rohan was back. Last night, Muzgâsh's men had brought the news that after three days of celebrating his sister's nuptials, King Éomer had at last returned from Emyn Arnen.

Muzgâsh smiled. "You have returned to your doom," he whispered.

He had spent the time well, getting everything in readiness. The gods had favoured him and had sent Imrahil home early, bringing his daughter with him. After three days of covertly observing every step the princess took outside the town house, he had put the finishing touches to his plan. These soft Gondorians granted their womenfolk so much freedom, it would be easy. Now it only remained for him to give the word.

Without turning round he lifted his voice. "The boat?"

Soundlessly the commander of his men, Shagnar, stepped forward from where he had stood guard at the top of the steps leading up to the wall walk. "I went myself to see the captain last night. He awaits us."

Muzgâsh nodded with satisfaction. "Very good."

He had originally intended to escape on horseback along the South Road as far as Pelargir and then to take the Harad Road, but now an addition to his plans had forced him to look for different means of transportation. Fortunately they had found a fast ship with a captain willing to be bribed not to ask too many questions. The man thought he was taking them as far as the Mouth of the Anduin, but it would be easy to persuade him to continue to Umbar. If a bag of silver didn't do the trick, a knife at his throat would.

"My Lord Prince, do you want me to send off the man to the Houses of Healing now?" Shagnar asked. The guttural accent to his Westron betrayed his origins from one of the eastern tribes of the Haradrim. Savages, but highly valued by the rulers of Harad for their ferocity in battle.

"Yes," Muzgâsh replied. "And have two men watch the Great Gates so we know if the King of Rohan enters the city."

Shagnar bowed deeply and went to do as bid. Muzgâsh had little doubt that King Éomer would want to visit Prince Imrahil that morning. Rumours that the King of Rohan meant to marry the Princess of Dol Amroth, and that her father was less than pleased about this, had been widely discussed in the taverns of Minas Tirith over the last few days. By keeping a watch on the city gates, they would know where to find King Éomer once the first part of their plan had been accomplished. Muzgâsh rubbed his hands in anticipation. Hunting on the plains of Harad had taught him that to catch a lion you needed the right bait and he had just the thing in mind. After all he was only taking back what belonged to him anyway.

By now, the sun had risen far enough above the mountains to reach the fields of the Pelennor. Inevitably, his eyes were drawn to a green mound near the road to the river. Covered with lush grass, it marked the final resting ground of King Théoden's steed – and the place where Muzgâsh's father fell. Dead, but not forgotten. Unable to help, Muzgâsh had been mustering their reserve forces in Osgiliath and had not even heard of his father's death until his brother Torog had ordered their retreat. The coward!