Amdirien did not sit down at the table at once; she first joyously embraced the maia.

“I would say ‘thank the Valar you are alive,’ but well, you don't need their protection,” she whispered.  “Where have you been? Is Anders safe?”

“Anders and your guard should be safe,” Thorongil answered.  “It is good to see that you are unharmed.”

“You can thank Gwethien for that,” said Amdirien.

“What about me!” objected Mirumor.

Amdirien and Mirumor took seats by Thorongil at his little table in the corner.  Gwethien, in human form and seductively dressed as always, walked into the tavern.  A sailor got up to say hello and she slapped him so hard with the outside of her hand that her nails, which even in her human form were as sharp as claws, left three deep cuts in his cheek.  No one else bothered her as she went to take the last seat at Thorongil's table, eagerly licking the blood from her nails.

“We have work to do,” began Thorongil.  He laid the map he had taken from the Dead Hand out on the table.  “We have been betrayed…”

“By Altazîr!” interrupted Amdirien proudly.

Thorongil smiled with genuine surprise - an expression Amdirien had never seen on his face.

The Princess grinned, beaming with pride.  “You haven't been the only one making progress!”

“Apparently not!” smiled Thorongil.  “How do you know?”

Amdirien told Thorongil all that had happened since the attack on the palace.

“I don't know what I would have done without Gwethien!” Amdirien concluded.

“Lost a lot more money to me,” chirped Mirumor.

“Make sure you tell that to Elerína!” Gwethien demanded.

“I will,” nodded the Princess.

“Where is Anders?” Amdirien asked Thorongil again.

“I told him and your guard to shelter with the local garrison of Rangers, if they were unable to find you.  I suspect few among the Rangers are loyal to anyone in Umbar.”

“Then we should head to the Rangers’ camp,” said Mirumor.

“Correct,” nodded Thorongil.  “And the sooner the better. Altazír will move quickly to solidify his control of the city.”

Thorongil, Amdirien, Gwethien, and Mirumor made their way carefully and quietly to the old fort where the Rangers made their camp in Umbar.  The found it surrounded by heavily armored soldiers. They snuck into a nearby storm drain, much like the one Thorongil had pursued the Dead Hand assassins into the previous night, and snuck into the Ranger’s compound that way.  As they clambered out were met with at least ten men with drawn bows, and a few of Amdirien’s guard with swords. Their sea-blue cloaks were torn and tattered, and soaking wet.

The morale of the men was boosted by the presence of Her Majesty, and those who had heard tales of Thorongil’s exploits - mostly his encounter with Shelob - were glad of his company as well.  Gwethien and Mirumor were viewed with mild suspicion.

“Where is Anders?” asked Amdirien immediately.

“He and Gadron went to investigate the North and South towers,” replied the ranking officer.

The bay within which Umbar’s harbor sat was defended by two ancient fortresses, placed at the north and south banks of the entrance to the bay.  They were commonly called The Towers, and at times The Lighthouses, because when they were built they were constructed in defiance of the will of Numenor’s king.  To prevent any settlements in Middle Earth from rebelling and declaring independence, it was made illegal to build fortifications larger than a simple castle. The governors of Umbar defiantly built the twin fortresses, and when questioned they mockingly claimed them to be only lighthouses to guide passing ships into the harbor.  Since the fall of Sauron they had been controlled and garrisoned by two very old and powerful families, whose influence in the city stretched back thousands of years - both with ties to the Dead Hand and various other criminal organizations.

“To which did Anders go?” asked the Princess, but no one knew.  If Anders and Gadron had decided who would go where ere they left the garrison, they had not shared that information.

The Princess pulled Thorongil and Gwethien aside.  “You must find Anders!”

“Anders is a capable soldier,” began Thorongil.

“He could be walking into a trap!” interrupted the Princess.  “I know you only care about my safety…”

“Anders is my friend as well,” growled Thorongil.  “But I promised your mother I'd keep you safe.”

Amdirien mustered up all the confidence she could to bluff: “I’d rather lose this whole damnable city than lose him.  If you don't do something to help him, I will.”

Thorongil stared at her with such a glare that it hurt the Princess’s eyes, but she held her head high long enough for him to buy it.

“Fine!” he roared.  “Gwethien, fly to the south tower and see if he is there.  If he is, bring him back on Amdirien’s orders. I'll go to the north castle.”

He turned back to Amdirien.  “I hope you're happy! Some evil will come of this, mark my words!”

“I'll be fine!” answered Amdirien.

Thorongil leapt back into the sewers and Gwethien soon followed.  Amdirien was left alone with the remaining soldiers of the garrison - about twenty rangers and eight of her guard.  She sat under an awning and cursed the pouring rain. Mirumor soon joined her, but they spoke little.

At sunrise the next morning a horn was sounded just beyond the walled courtyard where the rangers camped.

“Surrender now, and your lives will be spared!” shouted a voice.

“For Gondor!” roared the Rangers.  In answer there came a booming sound which shook the courtyard, as a battering ram slammed into the gate.  A hail of arrows fell amidst the defenders.

“That is our queue to leave, Your Majesty!” said Mirumor, grabbing the Princess's hand and pulling her towards the sewer drain.

Amdirien tried to object but the door to the courtyard shattered seconds later as the battering ram hit it a second time.

“Seven Stars, and Seven Stones!” shouted the ranking officer among those left loyal to the Princess.

“And One White Tree!” roared the rest of the men, charging at the broken gate, firing their arrows and drawing their swords.

Amdirien caught a glimpse of the attackers as she waited for Mirumor to scurry down the storm drain first.  Some of them also wore the heraldry of Gondor. Doubtless they had been told the Rangers were the traitors. Others wore black and gold plate armor, and wore emblems of Numenor of old.  Amdirien hesitated, wondering what she could do to stop such senseless slaughter.

“Amdirien?” shouted Mirumor.  “Amdirien get down here!”

The Rangers and her own guard were hopelessly outnumbered.  One of the attackers broke through their lines and caught sight of the Princess.  Amdirien immediately began her descent down into the tunnels below the city.

“Did they see you?” asked the sorceress.

“Yes,” replied the Princess.

“What on earth were you waiting for?” cried Mirumor.  “Come on!”

They rushed down the tunnel.  They heard the sounds of fighting die down, but they also hear a voice cry “I saw one go into the tunnels!”

“Whatever shall we do now?” asked the Princess.  “Oh, I have made a right mess of this; I only hope I live long enough to see how angry Thorongil is when he learns of it!”

“I can't speak to how you are getting out of this,” began the sorceress, before stopping mid sentence.  “... I can get one of us out of here alive.”

“What?  How!” exclaimed Amdirien.  The two women ducked into a small alcove, hidden from the main sewer passageway.

“Well, I am a sorceress after all,” she smiled.  “Watch this!”

Mirumor pulled a black and gold ring from her pocket and slipped it on to her finger.  She immediately vanished into thin air. She re-appeared a second later, the ring off her finger

Amdirien was speechless.  She knew the sorceress wasn't about to hand over their only hope for survival.

“Well, Your Majesty?” she teased, waving the ring in front of the Princess's face.

“What do you want?” asked Amdirien.  They heard the sound of clinking armor from the direction of the drain they had entered by.

“I want Minas Morgul,” replied the sorceress.

“You want the tower!? You can’t possibly be serious!” cried Amdirien.

“I most certainly am,” smiled the rogue.

“My father…”

“Would chose the tower over his daughter's life?” gasped Mirumor mockingly.  “I thought you were the heroes!”

Amdirien hesitated.  She heard the loud ‘clank’ of steel boots at the base of the ladder down the hall.

“You are out of time, Your Majesty,” said Mirumor.

“I can give you better than the tower, give me the ring,” begged Amdirien.

Mirumor laughed.  “Wrong answer!”

Amdirien grabbed the sorceress’s hand as she tried to put on the ring.  “I can show you how to communicate with Sauron!”

“What?” gasped Mirumor.  “Impossible!”

“If I am lying, you can have to tower!” replied the princess.

Now it was Mirumor’s turn to hesitate - a chance to commune with Sauron!  She thought of the powers her mother possessed, and she had only encountered a Nazgûl.  She remembered all her long days digging through the ruins of Barad-dûr, wishing she could have visited it in its prime.  She remembered how useless she felt trying to use the Palantír, only to find it beyond her power.

Mirumor tossed the ring to Amdirien.  “Deal! You had better be telling the truth.”

Amdirien slipped on the ring and immediately vanished.  She waved her own hand in front of her face and saw nothing - a very disconcerting feeling, or it would have been, were it not for the sound of armored feet in the tunnels.  Mirumor drew and cocked her tiny crossbow. She stepped out into the main passage and saw a soldier running towards her hardly twenty feet away. She took her first shot and her dart struck him in the eye. The man behind him tripped over his fallen comrade and tumbled into the rushing water beside the narrow path they stood on.

“She’s over here!” cried a third soldier.  Mirumor ran for her life, occasionally turning around to shoot.  Fortunately the young rogue had spent a great deal of her childhood playing in those sewers - and running from the authorities.  She managed to stay one step ahead of the men who pursued her, and killed a good many of them. Amdirien stayed in the little alcove where she had put on the ring, too scared to move.  Half a day later she heard footsteps.

A face the princess recognized peered into the alcove, smiling with her fangs bared.  “Well well well, what have we here?” laughed Gwethien.

“Gwethien!  Thank the Valar!” cried Amdirien.

“The Valar have nothing to do with it,” hissed the vampire.  “Come with me.”