The Strangers in Middle Earth

I own nothing but my OC's

Chapter Nine

The Wizard's Words

The return to Edoras was much more positive than our exodus from the city, though we were burdened by the knowledge that so many had been killed. Some of us volunteered to return to the sight of our fight against the Wargs to deal with our dead. Sadly, the kings prediction of the Wargs returning had been true and there was not much left of our men, though we buried what we could find, and Father Harold carried out the funeral rites. We soon joined the column again and continued our journey to Edoras. Many of the refugees from the farms and villages decided to remain with us for safety as there were still rumoured to be Orc packs and wild men roaming the countryside. The result was that we were on alert until we reached Edoras. On the way, we went past Cerdic's farm and with relief we found that the place was intact. Cerdic's servants went to work unloading their belongings back in place, I and a few of us volunteered to stay as they did so to make sure they were protected, though the risk of an attack so close to Edoras was remote.

Cerdic's people made sure the horses were back in the pen, they were all clearly relieved to be so, and just in time as one of the mares began to give birth soon after we arrived. At that point everyone went to work, Sunniva and a couple of men helping the animal along. However, for myself, Sir Edward Wolfson and Sir Allan Perrin who had remained, there was little to do but wait. At last, that afternoon, Sunniva emerged from the barn, her hair a mess from the work she'd been doing. After speaking to her father who then kissed her on the cheek she walked towards me.

'Did it go alright?' I asked her.

'We've got a new colt,' she said with a triumphant smile. 'It was the mare's first as well, hard on her.'

'I'm glad it turned out alright at least. The mare will recover, won't she?'

'She will do. She just needs rest.'

'Well done on bringing her through.'

'The hands knew what they were doing, I just helped. Anyway, my father wants to speak to you.'

'Have I offended him somehow?'

'I don't think so, he just wants a word.'

'Alright then.'

The two of us walked up the hill towards the house and once inside I saw Cerdic ordering his servants to put his belongings back in place.

'Ah John, you're here. I wanted to properly thank you for keeping an eye on Cenric during the battle.'

'I was honoured to have him as my squire, sir. He proved himself a capable warrior.'

'He certainly did. Still, I'd like to properly thank you for what you did. Your horse was killed fighting the Wargs, I'd like to gift you a replacement.'

That took me by surprise, a horse was an expensive gift.

'Thank you sir, but I can't accept it.'

'You will accept it John. Come with me, I'll show you the horse I have in mind for you. Come on, you too Sunniva.'

We left the house and walked towards the large horse enclosure, Cerdic leading us.

'Sunniva,' he said to his daughter, 'in the morning you will take five of the servants and head to our house in Edoras.'

'Why can't I stay here?'

'For your own safety. Cenric and I will stay for a few more days before joining you, just to make sure everything here's in order.'

'I'd rather be with you.'

'And I'd rather stay with you, but your safety comes first. Sir John, I must ask you to make sure my daughter remains safe while in Edoras.'

'Of course, sir.'

'I am not exactly defenceless, father,' Sunniva reminded him.

'You're not a shield maiden either. Here we are,' he said as we reached a fenced off part of the enclosure occupied by a single stallion. 'What do you think John?'

The horse in question was a destrier, and a fine example of one as well, tall, muscular and with a well-arched neck. His coat was white with a long black line along its snout. A pair of Cerdic's men were fitting him with his riding equipment, and the horse himself appeared to be calm as this was happening.

'What's his name?' I asked Cerdic.

'Whagen,' answered Sunniva. 'It means White Cloud in the Common Tongue.'

'His age?'

'He just turned four,' Cerdic told me as he led us into the enclosure. 'He's got a good temper and very disciplined.'

'May I ride him?' I asked.

'Of course. Take him around the enclosure a few times and then try him in the fields around the farm.'

'Thank you, sir.'

When saddle and bridle were on Whagen, I calmly approached the horse and carefully stroked him on the neck. After a few minutes of him becoming accustomed to my presence I carefully climbed into the saddle and took the reins. It only took a moment for him to become accustomed to my weight and I started to ride him, slowly along the line of the fence. It was a strange experience, riding a horse from Rohan for the first time. It was almost like the beast was so well disciplined that he practically knew what I wanted without instructions. I sped up and cantered around the enclosure before urging him to stop. Outside of the enclosure, I commanded Whagen to gallop at full speed and his stamina and the strength in his body was unmatched by any horse I had ever ridden. I reached the top of a hill and looked back down to the farm before riding back towards the cluster of buildings. At last I reached the enclosure where Sunniva and Cerdic were still waiting.

'A fine horse,' I told them. 'I'm honoured to have him.'

'So you should be. He's a fair reward for what you did. Now, I think it's time for supper soon and I'm hungry, please join us.'

…

The next morning, Sunniva and her servants, three women and two men, had climbed onto their horses, not bringing the cart with them as they had supplies at the Edoras house and at a good ride in good weather, like that day, it would only take a few hours to reach the city. We soon got under way and my new horse proved his worth, Sunniva and I riding together and talking as we travelled along.

'I'm sorry if it feels like your fathers forcing me to spy on you,' I told her.

'It's alright John, he's just protective.'

'I was just worried you'd be annoyed by me being around.'

'Not at all. You're far from the worst company I've kept.'

'That's good to know, more or less.'

'I didn't mean it like that, not at all. Anyway, there's something I've been meaning to ask you.'

'Go on then.'

'It's about Father Harold. Why do you all call him "father" when he isn't your father?'

'It's his title,' I answered, feeling strange that I would have to explain it as I had spent my whole life around Christians. In a way her question reminded me how isolated I and the rest of my companions were compared to the rest of the strange world we had found ourselves in. 'He is a priest and his title is Father.'

'So he acts as a parent to your company?'

'That's right, and it's a way of showing him respect.'

'I see. You know, I've never actually met a priest before him.'

'There aren't priests in this country?'

'No, sometimes there are hermits in the countryside, but we've never really had need of priests.'

'But why not? You may not follow my faith but surely you believe in something?'

'We do, but we've just never needed priests. I suppose I've never thought about it before but, we all know the tales of how this world was created and how the race of man was born. We all know the stories but, we've never needed priests, at least not in Rohan.'

'What of Gondor? Do they have priests?'

'I heard a story once that the people of Númenor built a temple where men were sacrificed before their island was destroyed. I heard that Lord Aragron is a descendant of them, he might know more than I.'

'His people practiced sacrifice?'

'It's just a story, but from what I've heard the Dúnedain, that's his people, saw the dark path their kingdom was going down, so they left their island before it's destruction.'

'I see.'

'It's just, how strong is Father Harold's faith in your God?'

'He's a priest, and I've met a few who were only priests because their family demanded it of them, but Father Harold is one of the good ones.'

'It makes sense. During the battle, he was the only one in the caves who was calm, who wasn't worried,' as she said it she looked at the ground, contemplating something. 'I think, I think I'd like to talk to him when we reach Edoras.'

'About what?'

'I'm not sure, John, I'm not sure yet.'

Not thinking much of it, we continued and soon arrived at the capital city of Rohan. It was busier than when we first arrived, thanks to everyone from the countryside who had decided to remain at the city for their own safety. Cerdic's house in the city was slightly smaller than his house at the farm, located near the top of the hill. I offered to help Sunniva and her people unpack but she said no, saying it would be better for me to re-join our company. Naturally, half of them were at the tavern we held our vote and the other half were in the training grounds. Of course I joined them, but if I went to the training grounds or tavern I shall not say, and instead divert you away from my life story to that of my uncle and cousin at Isengard.

The journey was easy for them and it didn't take long until they were approaching the walls of Isengard, through Fangorn Forest which had taken back the land cleared by the wizard to fuel his furnaces. After seeing the deadly work of the trees at the end of the battle my uncle felt wary riding through a forest, though Legolas and Gandalf insisted there was nothing to worry about. Still some way off, the party talked as they rode along, Gandalf talking to my uncle, mostly about by grandfather.

'Many times on our journey, he talked about you, your mother and your brother.'

'I still can't believe he's been in Erebor this whole time.'

'And he's spent it all hunting for records on ancient lore, trying to find a way through to England. Well, he has spent a great deal of time travelling Middle Earth as well. He joined me a few times on adventures after the Quest for Erebor.'

'What sort of things did you do?'

'Searching libraries, delved into a couple of ruins, defeated some Orc packs. He was a fine companion to me.'

My uncle frowned slightly and looked down at the ground sighing.

'Is something wrong?'

'He, he just makes me make of Daniel.'

'I am sorry that you lost your brother, that Bartholomew lost his son.'

'As am I, but the way you just talked of my father, he sounds alike my brother. He was always welcome at Widford Castle but he insisted that he needed to find his own way in the world. Somehow he ended up around the Baltic Sea where he married the daughter of a local lord. She died sadly, in child birth no less, giving birth to their daughter.'

'John has a sister?'

'The baby girl died three days after her mother and Daniel, he came home after that. The man was broken for over a year.'

'That's a sad tale my friend.'

'It was a sad thing. He was just, he just wasn't the man he used to be, that was until he met Matilda Tamms, a childless noble widow. She was a good woman and, I suppose she brought him back to who he used to be. She was John's mother.'

'I'm surprised John hasn't talked about his sister.'

'He never knew the girl. I often think that he sees my sons as his brothers even though they're his cousins, but sometimes I think if his sister had lived it would have been better for him.'

'You care a lot about your nephew.'

'Of course I do. I'm not his father but Daniel died was John was only eleven, I've taken care of him all these years.'

'You're a good man, James. Ah, here we are.'

They had reached the end of the forest and before them they saw a crumbling section of a stone gate house and sitting there was, to my uncle, the Englishmen and the men of Rohan, a sight they had not seen before. Two small figures, the size of children, though their faces were those of adults and their feet were not covered by shoes but were very large and hairy. Both of them sat there smoking from long pipes and enjoying a picnic of salted pork, bread, cheese and ale.

'Welcome!' one of them proclaimed and stood up. 'Welcome my lords, to Isengard!'

'You young rascals!' Gimli, sharing a horse with Prince Legolas, shouted at them, though not with anger but with happiness. 'A merry hunt you led us on and here we find you feasting and smoking!'

'We are sitting, my good friend,' the figure cheerfully responded, 'on a field of victory, sharing a few well-earned comforts. The salted pork is particularly good.'

'Salted pork?' Gimli asked, a longing look in his eyes.

'Is there anything left in that keg?' Jason then called out. 'Forgive me but it's been a long journey and I'm parched.'

'Sadly sir, this keg is empty, but in the store rooms there is ale, beer, wine, butter, cheese, bread, apples and, well, you get the picture.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' he then looked at my uncle. 'Shall we feast and then take Saruman's head or the other way around?'

'That is not for me to decide,' was his response and then looked at the king and Gandalf.

'Saruman has much to answer for, and we shall have answers,' Theoden decided.

'I agree,' the wizard said. 'His army is crushed, but he is still dangerous to us. Anyway, allow me to make introductions, Theoden King, Baron James, before you are Meriadoc Brandybuck, known also as Merry, and Peragrin Took, known as Pippin, two Hobbits of the Shire.'

'Well met Hobbits,' the king of Rohan said to them. 'I am Theoden, King of Rohan.'

'Sire,' Merry said and bowed, as did Pippin.

'Hobbits,' my uncle then said. 'I am James Harris, Baron of Widford. I understand that my father, Bartholomew, is a friend of one of your people, Bilbo Baggins.'

'You're Bartholomew Harris's son?' asked Pippin, astonished.

'Indeed I am.'

'We met him at Rivendell just before we started travelling south,' Pippin explained. 'He was an excellent man, and we knew of hum by Bilbo's stories. It's an honour to meet you as well.'

'Now,' the wizard said, a steely look coming over his face, 'let us deal with Saruman.'

The party rode through the gateway and into the compound itself where my uncle gasped at the sight of the colossal tower of black stone before him, never in his life had he seen a structure so tall and evoking such power, even the ancient ruins of the long destroyed Rome and the tallest of cathedrals couldn't match this. Yet, something was wrong about the place. The grounds were flooded, knee deep in water in most places, and tall piles of destroyed structures were scattered about. It was a place which felt wounded, with a bandage only just being applied though the blood could still be seen.

Even more stunning to my uncle and almost the entire group, with the exception of the wizard and the Hobbits, were the Ent's. They were a sight which filled my uncle with terror but soon such fears were put to rest when their leader, Tree Beard, a tall, grandfatherly looking tree with a long beard of moss and which was both as calming as a summer's night and as powerful of thunder.

'Young master Gandalf,' Tree Beard rumbled. 'I am please that you've come. Wood and water, rock and stone I can master, but there is a wizard to manage here, locked in his tower.'

'How will we get him out?' my uncle asked Gandalf. 'I don't fancy the idea of charging through and facing any sorcerous traps and tricks.'

'If we're doing that, you have a volunteer,' Jason laughed.

'Here, here,' said Richard.

'Silence,' Gandalf snapped. 'The armies of Isengard have been destroyed for ever but even now, Saruman remains dangerous.'

'Then let's have his head and be done with it,' said Gimli. 'Richard, Jason, I'll race you to him.'

'No,' my uncle silenced the three who wanted a crack at the wizard who had caused so much destruction. 'He may have unleashed monsters but we can at least be decent, and question him. Surely he knows what Sauron plans.'

'An interesting suggestion,' a calming yet powerful voice called down and everyone looked up to a balcony in the wall of the tower where a figure clad in white, with a long white beard and holding a dark staff, stood tall and haughty. 'A gentleman of war's suggestion, Baron James Erucaunion. Before me stands many men who have fought in many wars, and surely you all know the traditions and conventions of war, that at its end we make peace. Theoden King, my old friend, the war between us is over, and now let us talk and share counsel as we did before, making peace together.'

So this is Saruman, my uncle thought and it was not what he had been expecting. As a child he'd heard stories of wizards and warlocks and expected a twisted monster with matted hair hiding in his tower, scheming up plots and brewing potions. Yet, before him was a figure similar to Gandalf, standing tall and proud with the bearing of a priest or a bishop, a respectable man of authority. He appeared to be someone to listen to, a source of limitless knowledge and wisdom.

This sort of man was the most dangerous type of man.

'Yes Saruman, we shall have peace,' Theoden answered calmly but then his voice and face turned to rage. 'It shall be a peace earned by you answering for your crimes, for the homes and farms burned across the West Fold and the innocents who you left for the carrion birds. We shall have peace for the warriors who fell at the Hornburg and were then torn apart by your beasts even though they had fallen. They shall be avenged! All of Rohan shall be avenged when your corpse is in a gibbet and left for your own crows.'

'You think you can condemn me you dotard? And you Gandalf Greyhame, what do you want here? The Key of Orthanc or Barad Dur? Perhaps you want the rods of the five wizards and the crowns of the seven kings?'

'Your treachery has caused many deaths, thousands of innocents are still in danger, but perhaps you can earn some manner of redemption by helping us. You were deep in the enemies counsel.'

'Ah, so it is knowledge which has brought you here. I have news for you then, the Eye sees all, he knows all. His armies are limitless and you, all of you, are going to die. Of course Gandalf, you know this don't you? You knew it was a lost cause and you still intend of leading them into death.'

'Nothing's a lost cause until all have given up,' my uncle answered this remark. 'Many would have called Helm's Deep a lost cause and yet we still triumphed.'

'Baron, if you think that the War of the Ring can be won by mere men, then you are a deluded fool. Gandalf would see this ragged ranger from a broken line put on the throne of Gondor when even someone like you would be much more suitable, the blood in your veins is royal enough and have you not already been a saviour of princes?'

At the last part, Richard noticed that the colour drained from my uncles face before answering

'Clearly sorcerer, you have some means of looking into my past and therefore you know of my character. It is also clear to me that if Aragorn does a become king, it would be well earned.'

'Baron James, of the line of Deira and Bernicia, you are a fool. If you had joined me, you would be sharing in the spoils of victory right now.'

'I see no spoils here, Saruman, and clearly you do not know of my character if you think I would join scum like you. Just give us the information we need.'

'My armies are gone, but I am still in a better position than Gandalf's closest friend,' he then glared at his fellow wizard. 'I am less doomed than the Halfling you sent on a mission of death. How did you persuade him to do it? What did you whisper in his ear to make him as much a fool as you? How easy it is that someone who claims to be good and kind can so easily send those they claim to love to be sacrificed.'

'Come down, Saruman! Your life will be spared if you do.'

'Spare me your pity and your mercy! I have no use for it!'

A ball of fire then cascaded from his staff down at Gandalf and he was engulfed in a ball of fire. The horses were terrified and my uncle was barely able to keep his under control but everyone looked at the swirling ball of orange light surrounding the wizard with horror, fearing that Gandalf was gone. Then it vanished. The flames parted and Gandalf and his white horse remained where they once were, unharmed.

'Saruman! Your staff is broken.'

The rod in Saruman's hand then splintered in a flash and the wizard looked at his hand with fear and anger. A dark figure then moved behind him and a snivelling little man appeared.

'Wormtongue,' growled Richard.

'Grima!' Theoden called out. 'You do not have to follow him. You were not always as you are now. Once you were a man of Rohan and you can be again if you would but come down and join us. Your crimes were great, but you will be treated fairly.'

'There's nothing to be proud of in being a man of Rohan, a man of a stinking barn filled with drunken brigands and where brats roll on the floor with mutts. Theoden King, Helm's Deep was not won by you, you weak, useless off shoot of a once great house.'

'Grima,' the King of Rohan ignored the wizard. 'Grima please come down and be free of Saruman at last.'

'Free? He will never be free? Now get inside you cur,' Saruman shoved Grima back into the tower and turned to face down at the party again.

'Enough Saruman. You were Sauron's ally, tell us what you know so that lives may be sparred.'

'It will do you no good, but fine. Withdraw the guards and I will tell where you will be destroyed.'

He then gasped, his whole-body stiffening as Grima again and again plunged a long dagger into his back. Quickly, Legolas aimed his bow and arrow and shot at Grima but it was too late. Saruman fell from the balcony and crashed into the water beneath him, his bloody form breathing out its last breath of life. A cloud gathered above his form, longingly gazing towards the west until a great breeze dispersed the cloud towards the east.

'Send word to all our allies,' Gandalf said to the king of Rohan with great authority, 'and to all corners of Middle Earth that still stand free. The Enemy moves against us and we need to know where he will strike.'

'Could we search the tower?' asked my uncle.

'I was about to suggest it. Let's go.'

Pippin was already off the horse he shared with Gandalf, splashing through the water which to him was waist high until he reached the spot where Saruman's body rested in the water and reached near it, pulling from the water something which my uncle thought was a large polished ball of glass.

'I'll take that,' Gandalf told him with some worry, and he slipped the ball into his robes.

After that they entered the tower, Gandalf opening the doors after a moment holding his staff against them. While most of the party went to the libraries, my uncle and his men went to an experimental armoury room where Jason was glad to find a replacement billhook for the one he lost at Helm's Deep. It was slightly heavier and looked more brutal but he gladly took it as a spoil of war.

'It must have been a potential weapon for the Uruk-Hai,' my uncle concluded.

'Why didn't he make more of them for his army? This is a good weapon.' Jason wondered.

'His first enemy was Rohan,' said Richard. 'It makes sense to fight cavalry with pikemen.'

'I see.'

'Now look at this,' my uncle said as he looked over a stack of papers on a desk and Jason shrugged his shoulders.

'It's a recipe I recognise,' my uncle explained to him. 'I believe this was his formula for black powder.'

'Goodness,' Richard said as he looked over some other papers. 'Father, look at this.'

He did so and was shocked to see designs, although basic and clearly only first draft versions, of cannons.

'Our battle could have been a lot harder,' he said after looking over the designs.

'Why didn't he make them?' asked Richard.

'I'd guess that it was easier to build a traditional army first and then give them cannons later. That said, I'm not sure these cannons would have worked, the rear ends are too thin for the blast, but I'd say if Saruman had another year his Uruk's may have marched on Helm's Deep with these.'

'We're lucky then,' Jason nodded slowly.

'We'd better help them up in the library,' my uncle said at last and as everyone filled out, Richard spotted my uncle taking the formula for the black powder and putting it in his cloak.

AN: Sorry this update took a while but I'm back at uni which is taking up time. Still, I'm glad to get this one up for you guys and I hope you all enjoy it.