"Those two must be the king of Gondor, Isildur, and Anarion, right?" Okrian-Lujin gazed up at the two statues with emotion.
"Correct! Too bad there's no prize..." Grand Duke Ocrean Yaso joked.
"This is Mount Amon Sûl. Let's head up and take a look. They say there's a tall throne up there for keeping watch, one that overlooks the entire Lake Nenuial region! Let's see whether there's a ferry crossing!" Grand Duke Ocrean Yaso said calmly as he looked at Mount Amon Sûl, which had once housed Gondor's garrison during its heyday.
"Alright!" Okrian-Lujin nodded and followed his lord's footsteps.
"..."
"..." Grand Duke Ocrean Yaso and Okrian-Lujin exchanged a glance, each seeing the other's embarrassment. It was not that king Roland's intelligence had been false—it had been too accurate... Too much time had passed since Gondor's glory days. The mountain's stone steps had been eroded beyond recognition by the wind. Forget riding horses up them; even climbing them on foot would be difficult.
"Could it be that the Orcs didn't occupy this place because they found it too steep?" Grand Duke Ocrean Yaso openly speculated.
"That's possible. The Kingdom of Gondor has fallen into such ruin that, to Mordor, this is no longer a front line but the hinterland. There's no benefit at all in keeping soldiers stationed here!" Okrian-Lujin considered it and agreed. Gondor appeared to have even lost its old capital, so neither side presumably cared about this insignificant northern frontier.
"Let's tie up the horses and go take a look!" Curiosity appeared on Grand Duke Ocrean Yaso's face. After all, there were two things Lagrangeans could never refuse: "They're just children," and "We're already here."
"Please be careful... Heh heh!" Okrian-Lujin laughed before Grand Duke Ocrean Yaso could even react.
After all, both of them