Chapter XIV
The Siege of Isengard
A few weeks after Saruman had assembled all those who wished to fight, Isengard had made all of the necessary preparations. The townspeople worked day and night to construct a defensive wall at the entrance to the Wizard's Vale. The wall was not as elaborate as the Ringwall of Isengard, but it would serve its purpose. The space between the mountains may have been narrow in comparison to the rest of the valley, but the wall built between them was too long to be adequately manned by the forces available to Saruman. So, the ends of the wall were much higher and stronger than the rest to prevent the enemy from climbing over the vacant spaces of the wall. Saruman had also summoned an arms merchant from Gondor and purchased armor, swords, spears, shields, and bows. The merchant was also an experienced combat teacher, so Saruman had him train the soldiers.
It was not long before Gandalf rode to Isengard. He arrived just as the new wall was completed. Flags bearing the White Hand of Saruman flew proudly from it, and more flags were displayed upon the Ringwall of Isengard. Saruman had the weapons merchant take care of Gandalf's horse, and the two wizards walked among the trees while the soldiers were training at the base of Orthanc.
"How much more time do we have to prepare?" asked Saruman.
"There is no time," answered Gandalf. "Fornost has fallen. The destruction of Arnor is at last complete. On the way here, I witnessed Angmar's army marching southward to begin the invasion of Gondor. I rode here as fast as my horse would carry me. The army will be upon Isengard in one week."
"How many are there?" asked Saruman.
"I estimate around ten thousand. Half are orcs bred in Carn Dûm, and half are wicked men who serve Angmar in pursuit of power."
"What of the Witch-king?"
"He rides with his forces. He has no doubt heard of the White Wizard of Isengard, so I suspect that he will personally lead the assault on your domain."
This was getting worse and worse. Not only were Saruman's people vastly outnumbered, but now they would also have to face the might of the Witch-king of Angmar himself.
"How did it come to this?" Saruman wondered. "How did one of the strongest kingdoms in Middle-earth meet its doom at the hands of a single black magician from the North?"
"The men of Arnor were the architects of their own destruction," said Gandalf. "They let their petty conflicts get the better of them, and Angmar took advantage of it. They failed to see that there is no necessary conflict among men of reason. If they had seen the reality of their situation, they would have put aside their differences to vanquish the true enemy. I tried to teach them, my friend. I tried to make them see reason, but I have failed. Much might have been different if I had done better."
"It is not your fault, my friend," said Saruman. "The men of Arnor chose to ignore reality, and they paid the price for their mistake. It had nothing to do with you. However, now may be the time for you to help put an end to this destructive conflict, and even save my realm. I want you to travel to Minas Anor and tell the king that Arnor is no more, and that Isengard is about to be attacked. Gondor can look away no longer, lest all the lands of the West be dominated by evil."
"Of course," said Gandalf. "I should be back with the King's army just in time to save Isengard."
And with that, Gandalf went to retrieve his horse and rode off. Saruman withdrew to Orthanc and gazed into the Palantír, watching as the terrible horde of Angmar marched through the ruins of a once strong kingdom on its way to conquer another proud people.
Just as Gandalf had warned, the army of Angmar arrived in a week. Saruman stood on top of the battlements of the new wall that guarded the valley and saw the great horde that approached in the distance. It was nearly sunset, and he judged that they would reach the wall by nightfall. While the army marched ever closer to the Wizard's Vale, Saruman organized his soldiers into battle positions. There were three hundred total; one hundred were armed with spears, and the other two hundred had longbows as their primary weapons and swords as sidearms. All had steel helmets, shields, and plate armor. The longbowmen stood upon the battlements. The stairs leading that they used to get up to the top of the wall were hastily constructed, easily destructible wooden structures. The spearmen stood behind the gate, ready to fight off the enemy should they break down the gate.
By the time the sun went down and the Wizard's Vale was bathed in the half light of dusk beneath the rising moon, the horde of Angmar had stopped about fifty yards from the wall to get into battle formations. The orcs wore simple leather armor with bits of metal and wielded crude swords, but the men had iron plate armor, helmets, and higher quality swords and spears. A few bore banners depicting the emblem of the Iron Crown of Angmar. Saruman's own soldiers stood in silence, but they were clearly afraid. He took the time to walk through the ranks of his soldiers, making sure that they were all prepared.
"Now is the hour," he said to all of them. "This is the first test of Isengard's strength. Our enemy may be numerous, but they are just a mindless horde driven by the will of their mad king. You are the men of reason, of creativity, of production. You are the men of the mind. I have seen all that which you create and take pride in. Your businesses, your workshops, your textile mills, your farms. You created all of it, and you are entitled to the fruits of your own labor. But now these looters, these second-handers seek to take it from you. Do not let them, for if they desire your property, then it is ultimately your minds and your lives that they seek to control. So fight! Fight for your homes and your families. Fight for your rightful property. But ultimately, fight for yourselves!"
The soldiers looked less frightened and more determined now. Even as the orcs and men of Angmar assumed their formations and pressed onward to the wall, Saruman's men were not about to surrender. They gripped their bows tightly, looking as though they wanted to draw their swords and reach over the merlons of the battlements to smite the enemy.
The assault began as some of the men of Angmar brought several ladders while the orcs brought a battering ram. Before any of them could get close enough to the wall, Saruman raised his hand and issued his commands.
"Shoot the ones with the ram and the ladders first!" he shouted, and the longbowmen let loose their arrows. Two hundred shafts were lodged firmly in the enemies' flesh. The battering ram and ladders were dropped.
"Another volley!" shouted Saruman. "Fill the air with your darts!"
Two hundred more arrows flew from the bows, and two hundred more orcs and men were either killed or wounded. The warriors of Angmar started to prioritize picking up their siege equipment again. Although the archers of Isengard attempted to stop any attempt to carry the ladders and battering ram, there were far too many enemies, and the siege equipment inched closer and closer to the wall, being dropped by dead soldiers and then picked up again.
At last, the ladders were put up against the wall, and the battering ram was immediately in front of the gate. No matter how many the archers killed to prevent use of the ram and ladders, there were always more to replace the dead. The archers pushed the ladders back down whenever possible, only to see them be brought back up.
The first ones to successfully climb the ladders were the orcs. These were simple fighters, who attacked haphazardly with poorly balanced weapons. Saruman's archers drew their swords and dispatched them, easily slicing through the improvised leather armor. The orcs showed very poor combat skills, considering that this was the first time that Saruman's soldiers fought in battle. The vile creatures had always relied on strength in numbers to overwhelm their foes, but now they didin't even have that. Though there was a great army at their backs, there were only so many orcs that could be on the wall at any given time.
The orcs retreated to take over the breaking of the gate while the men took their place on the wall. They were more competent than the orcs and better equipped, but they were still used to claiming victory by numerical superiority. They had killed many armored knights of Arnor, but not with any actual skill. They attempted to cut through the armor of Saruman's warriors, but to no avail. The men of Isengard, however, gripped their swords with one hand on the grip and the other at the middle of the blade and drove the point into the gaps in the enemies' armor at the elbows, throat, knees, and shoulders. Others used used their swords backwards, gripping the blade with both hands and bashing with the cross guard and pommel, giving their enemies concussions. Saruman himself stepped in and used the mace-like crown of his staff to clobber them on their heads, denting their helmets and cracking their skulls.
Meanwhile, the orcs were able to beat against the gate with the battering ram now that the archers were occupied. After a dozen or so strikes, the gate was broken, and the orcs flooded in. The spearmen were already prepared. They were in a rectangular formation of two ranks and fifty files. The front rank kneeled while the back rank stood. Their shields formed a wall, and they pointed their spears through the gaps. The orcs charged, but many were impaled by the spears in the attempt. Those that succeeded in bypassing the spears were stopped by the shield wall, vainly trying to cut and bash their way through the sheets of metal, and none of them could survive long enough to get to the men behind the shields.
However, after a couple of hours of fighting, there were so many orcs throwing themselves into the fray that they were starting to climb over the spearmen. Saruman saw this and knew that his soldiers could not hold this position for much longer. If the spearmen fell, then the orcs would be able to get behind the wall and attack the rest of Saruman's forces from the rear.
"Retreat!" Saruman shouted. "Fall back to Isengard!"
The archers disengaged and ran down the stairs. Once they were all off of the wall, they broke the stairs so that Angmar's soldiers that were on the battlements could not get down quickly without dying or being injured. The spearmen broke formation, and all of Saruman's men ran off towards Isengard. They were able to quickly run through the trees, because they had Saruman's permission to go through the forest. The army of Angmar, however, was slowed. The spells and enchantments of the wizard confused them. Some were turned around, and others even mistook their friends for enemies and turned on each other.
The forces of Isengard traversed the several miles of forest to get to the fortress long before their adversaries did. They got inside and closed the gate, which was far stronger than the one that had been broken by the battering ram. The longbowmen sheathed their swords and positioned themselves on top of the Ringwall, while the spearmen once again waited at the gate. Saruman decided to wait with the spearmen this time.
It took several hours for the army of Angmar to finally arrive. Saruman's soldiers looked down at the forest below, and through the trees they could see their foes getting closer. The orcs and wicked men had forsaken the ladders and the battering ram because they were too difficult to transport through the rugged terrain of the forest. They prepared their bows and aimed up at the defenders. However, instead of shooting them, one man came forward from the rest of the army.
"If you wish to be spared," he yelled, "then bring out the wizard! We are servants of the Iron Crown, and we will fetch him from his hole if he does not come. Bring out the wizard!"
Saruman heard this, and as he climbed up the stone stairs to the battlements, one of his own soldiers responded.
"Saruman the White stays or comes at his own will," he said, and he was met with yells and jeers from the army of Angmar.
When Saruman reached the battlements, he looked down upon his adversaries and the man who had initiated the parley.
"What makes you think that you can bargain with me?" asked Saruman. "What makes you think that I want to bargain when you come armed to my door? You think that I am going to spare you. I am not the one who initiated the use of force. I am merely acting in retaliation. I grant you a choice, which is destruction, the only destruction that you have the right to choose: your own. Besides, you have nothing to bargain with. You have forsaken your siege tools, and there is no way for you to get in. You cannot starve us out, for we are self sustaining. Despite your vast numbers, you have nothing. Leave, for I am the Lord of Isengard, and I will not suffer you to enter."
Many of the men and orcs turned away, for the voice of the White Wizard had inspired fear and doubt in their hearts. But before anyone could leave, another voice was heard. It was deep, cold, and cruel, and it sounded like something that did not belong in the mortal world.
"Fools! Get back in formation, or I shall kill you myself." The voice came from a man riding a black horse. He wore dull iron armor over his black robes. He had iron gauntlets and boots. The robe had a hood that made it impossible to see the man's face, only blackness. Over the hood, he wore a terrifying iron mask that had a long, angular face that had a crown of spikes and tapered into a longer spike at the top.
The soldiers quickly got back into their positions as the horseman rode up to the gate and looked up at Saruman.
"You think that you are safe within your walls, but you are not. You say that you will not suffer my entrance, but I swear that you will suffer me. For I am the King of Angmar. I conquer and kill whomever I wish. I have come to do battle with the White Wizard and remove him from Isengard, and the fortress shall be added to my dominion. I shall break down your gates myself, and I will slaughter you and anyone who stands in my way."
Saruman's soldiers were frozen with fear of the Witch-king, the ancient terror who was now right before them in the flesh, threatening them before their eyes. Saruman looked down at the dark sorcerer with contempt and disgust rather than fear.
"So, the evil king of Carn Dûm deigns to show himself," said Saruman. "I am afraid that your reign ends here. Withdraw your guard, if you are indeed no craven, and I shall fight you myself." He turned his eyes to the East and saw that the sun was at last coming up, it's rays shining over the mountains.
"I will do no such thing," said the Witch-king. He raised his hand, and the gate was hit with an invisible force that made dents in the iron bars. "Open the gate, and I will spare your people. You will suffer me now!"
"Suffer this!" Saruman shouted as he thrust his staff down at the Witch-king, shooting a ball of fire that ignited the ground in front of the tyrannical warlord, barely missing him. The black horse bucked and backed away, and its master gave a horrific, ear-splitting scream of terror.
"The next one will be for your head," said Saruman.
Before the Witch-king could retaliate, there was a rumbling sound like thunder in the distance. Another sound was heard, the sound of two distinctly different horns. Saruman knew those horns, and he was filled with hope.
Peering through the trees, Saruman saw a great army coming up behind the Witch-king's army. The soldiers wore shining steel plate armor with chain mail underneath, and they wielded long, bright swords that cleaved their way through the ranks of Angmar. They bore the banner of Gondor. There was another, smaller group of warriors on horseback whose armor glittered like gold, and they ran the orcs and men through with long lances, and they bore the banner of Rivendell. Three horsemen led the charge. One was a very familiar-looking gray figure upon a brown horse, swinging a staff down upon the enemies' heads. One was also a familiar figure who rode a white horse and wore gold-colored armor and a red and gold cloak, wielding a sword with a curved blade. The third rode a white horse, and he was dressed in the finest Gondor armor with a black cloak, and upon his head he wore a silver crown not too different from that of the King of Gondor.
"Behold!" said Saruman in his joy. "The Gray Wizard has come again!" All his men cheered at their victory.
Angmar's forces had nowhere to run, and they were cut down by the charge of Gondor and Rivendell. The Witch-king turned away from Isengard and sped his horse southward out of the Wizard's Vale, heedless that he was now surrounded by enemies. The men and elves of Gondor and Rivendell could not stop his escape, for they were immobilized by shock and fear when he went by. He abandoned his minions to their doom. The dark army was swept aside like smoke driven by the wind, and to that valley the forces of Angmar returned never again.
Author's note: Wow, that was a long chapter, at least by this story's standards. That was my first vaguely actiony chapter. I would like to clarify something to those who don't believe the tactics that Saruman's men used to fight the armored men. Half-swording was something that was actually done in the Medieval and Renaissance periods when people were up against an armored opponent and they didn't have a specialized anti-armor weapon like a mace. You can't possibly cut through plate armor, so you grab the blade to make it easier to thrust the point into the gaps in the opponent's armor. Using the sword backwards and hitting with the pommel and guard like a hammer was also a real tactic. You may not believe it because you can cut yourself, but you will be perfectly unharmed if you use the proper technique. This is might be the last chapter that I make until next week. I'm going on a trip this Thursday, and I won't be home until next Wednesday. I don't know how often I'm going to have the opportunity to write while I'm away, and I don't know if I can get another chapter done before I leave. So this is probably going to be all for now.