Prologue: Orthanc
'Your majesty.'
'Saruman.'
'What is your command?'
'Snow on Caradhras was fine, just brilliant. But they survived. And they are moving towards Moria. You must find a way to hinder them, so that I can place my troops to all possible tunnels. One day is enough. Hinder them one day, Saruman, and do not fail me this time.'
'Yes, your majesty.'
'You may go.'
The Palantir darkened and Saruman sighed. He was glad the task was not more difficult, yet he was at loss how to perform it. As so often before, he turned to his library for guidance. His eyes scanned the titles on the leather spines, and he muttered to himself.
'Torture...not here... Tactics, Standard.... Tactics, Insidious... nah. Spells... Enchantments... maybe... hey, what's this? One of Grima's cheap scrolls! 'The Perversions and Abdominations Among Umbarian Nomads, with Colour Illustrations' What on Middle-earth is this supposed to be?' He opened the papyrus. 'Ych! Disgusting! Men bedding men!' He scrolled down to see the last of the illustrations. 'Is that actually possible?'
The thirty-seventh rule of Insidious Tactics is approximately:
'No fate is too terrible for your enemies, and their loss of honour is your gain.'
Suddenly Saruman remembered it. After that it was a simple matter to alter a lust-enchantment and send it where Sauron had shown the camp of the fellowship.
'With these words I command:
Flesh for flesh,
man for man,
so that they won't understand:
Magic is what makes it so
man with man must have
a night and day
of body-love.'