At the war council, Thranduil unrolled a weathered map, a relic from elder years, drawn when his father Oropher raised Amon Lanc upon the hill that later became Dol Guldur.
"Behold," he said, laying his hand upon the vellum, "this fortress was once the pride of our people, the chief citadel of Greenwood. Its defenses were cunningly wrought, and though it has long been held by the Shadow, I deem the walls and works to remain much as they were, perhaps even strengthened under the Dark Lord's hand."
All bent close, and Celeborn spoke gravely: "When we besieged Dol Guldur aforetime, we reckoned their strength. There are near thirty thousand of the Red-eyed Orcs, fifty thousand lesser Orcs, and at least twenty thousand fell beasts: spiders, bats, and wolves of the Shadow."
The company fell to silence. Dol Guldur was no easy quarry.
Thranduil's finger traced the forests beyond the hill. "Here lies the Mirkwood, ever shrouded in foul mist. Even in day it is dark, for it is wrought of sorcery. Monsters lurk unseen within. No army can pass unscathed if we blunder blindly."
"Then," rumbled Thorin, "we must have a light. Something—or someone—to drive the dark back."
At once many eyes turned to Kaen and to Galadriel, for the radiance that clothed them was brighter than torch or fire..
Kaen only smiled faintly. "Forget not my teacher," he said, inclining his head toward Elrond. "His arts surpass my own. And here also is Gandalf the Grey. His light is pure and unyielding, more stainless than mine."
Understanding dawned on them, and Bard murmured, "Then we need not fear the dark of the forest."
But Dáin of the Iron Hills struck the table with his fist. "So why delay? Let us speak our plan and march at dawn!"
Celeborn, calm and measured, shook his head. "War, Lord of the Dwarves, is not a matter of axes clashing. The art of victory is to win with the least cost."
Kaen nodded. "True. Though we outnumber Sauron's host and are stronger, to hurl ourselves headlong would be folly. Even victory would bleed us white."
Galadriel, who had sat in silence, now spoke, her voice like clear water. "You speak as one who has already devised a stratagem, Kaen Eowenríel. Tell us what you have in mind."
Kaen inclined his head with courtesy. "Lady, your eyes pierce to the heart. Yes, I have a plan. Sauron has a hundred thousand at his call, and upon his own ground. If we meet him there in one body, we gain nothing. But the forest is wide, and his strength must be spread. The more he stretches his line, the thinner he grows.
"So we will divide. Let him see us, let him know, so he is compelled to scatter. Then, at an appointed hour, we shall strike from three sides: west, southwest, and south. His hosts will be broken into fragments, and we shall fall upon them one by one. Thus the forest shall be cleansed, and then we may set our engines against the citadel itself."
He laid out the plan: to the western woods would go the Woodland host, twenty thousand strong and four thousand mounted archers of Eowenría under Thranduil, Elrond, and Gandalf. To the south would march the Lórien army of fifteen thousand, joined by Yenagath and Tauriel with ten thousand Caladhîn. To the southwest, nearest the fortress, Kaen himself would lead the main blow with Bard, Thorin, and Dáin—sixty thousand warriors in all.
The southern and western wings would strike deep, then wheel inward to meet the center. The foe would be caught between hammer and anvil, driven into the snares of the Free Peoples.
Celeborn's eyes shone. "A wise plan indeed. Even if Sauron should guess it, he must still scatter his strength, unless he would foolishly yield all the outer field."
All nodded. The council was in accord.
Scouts were sent forth in secret, and soon returned with tidings. It was as Kaen foresaw: the Enemy had already laid ambushes in the forest, cloaked in vapors. Few of the spies returned; but enough to prove the strength hidden there.
So the hosts made ready.
At last, on a day of clear sun, mighty legions from different peoples of middle earth, more than one hundred and ten thousand strong, set forth from the plain. Their tread was as thunder, their banners a sea of color. The very black mist of the wood seemed cowed before their advance.
At the van, Elrond raised a banner—the same that had flown in the Last Alliance. Long had it lain in Rivendell, but now it streamed once more.
Kaen rode forth upon his Mearas steed, and unsheathed his sword. His voice rang over the plain:
"Elves! Men! Dwarves! Hear me! Dol Guldur's dark tower mocks us still. Sauron's shadow wishes to endure, because Elves are proud, Dwarves are stubborn, and Men are divided. He believes the night is eternal!
"But look upon this banner: the star of the Elves, the mountain of the Dwarves, the red blood of Men—woven together!
"When Orc-arrows fall, they pierce Elf, Dwarf, and Man alike. When wolves rend the throat, they spare no kindred. Only now do we understand: united, we strike; together, we wound the Shadow, and only thus will he fear and flee!
"Behold! Our hosts stand as one. Bow and axe, sword and shield—woven like a net even death cannot break.
"Today, we will shatter this fortress of night. With holy light, with fire and steel, we shall purge this forest. The songs of tomorrow will tell how three kindreds burned the Shadow from its heart.
"Now, lift your weapons! String your bows! Let Dol Guldur hear our wrath!"
"DRIVE OUT THE DARKNESS! LET LIGHT ENDURE!"
And the great host roared as one:
"DRIVE OUT THE DARKNESS! LET LIGHT ENDURE!"