He rode through the falling snow, his horse a black silhouette. The
Dark Tower of Isenguard was before him, enormous and statuesque. Though
Grima had visited it only once before, he knew the way. It was imprinted
upon his memory like the sensitive scar left after a burn.
Sauroman stood waiting for him, his staff guiding Wormtongue with its
crystal light. He tip-toed up the steps in his meek little fashion and
cowered before the great Sauroman. Of course, the wizard looked down on him
as though her were really what his name implied: a worm.
"Why do you come at such a late hour?" He bellowed, the long white beard fluttering in the snowy breeze.
"The orcs, my lord, have reached Rohan. It is the Rider's plan to take the woman and children to Helm's Deep."
"The long forgotten fortress of Helm's Deep," the wizard said, knowingly. "The men will stay behind for the battle?"
"Yes, lord." They entered through the imperial doors, Grima following very closely behind Sauroman, eagerly awaiting his reaction.
"Very well. The army will head them off at the pass.and kill them."
Grima, startled, took a step back. "But, my lord, I."
Sauroman's gaze was hard as he stared at his spy. The frightened, disbelieving eyes sickened him. The little man before him, so greedy and almost worthless, wanted more?
"Well, out with it!"
"The Lady Eowyn, sir. She plans to lead the group to safety. I thought a capture would be more in order here." Shrinking back, Grima dared not look at him.
"Ahhh.your prize. I'd forgotten. A capture? I'm not sure the orcs could handle such a task, hungry and weary as they are. But, if you wish the Lady Eowyn to be spared, it shall be so. I had offered you that, hadn't I? And for all your services, I should fulfill my.obligations." The tone, the eyes, they all suggested sarcasm and a bit of malice. But Grima was relieved, despite the hidden meaning in Sauroman's words.
He arrived back at Rohan, the orcs still camped out on the hillside near the kingdom. Grima nodded to a few of them as he passed, a smirk on his face. He flew into the throne room, took his place beside the fallen King, and waited for the men to make their daily report. The King didn't even acknowledge his entrance.
That night, the third night of the orc's encampment outside the city walls, Grima was restless. As long as the armies weren't in full-fledged attack, there would be no need for the retreat to Helm's Deep, and the plot would be ruined. He had to coerce them into action, had to get the ball rolling. An idea popped into his head, a minor kindling to add to the flame. Sneaking into the servants quarters, Grima entered the room of the young Naima. She slept soundly, curled into a ball. When he woke her she cowered in fear. The girl had heard storied of the advisor and his midnight visits, a hunger always raged within him. But that was not his purpose that night. He had something much bigger in mind for her.
She listened intently to his whisperings. She could make out the tip of his silver tongue as it touched his teeth and lips, the lips that smiled at her for once. Entranced, she had no choice but to obey him.for once you are under the leech's spell, you are helpless.
Lots more soon!
"Why do you come at such a late hour?" He bellowed, the long white beard fluttering in the snowy breeze.
"The orcs, my lord, have reached Rohan. It is the Rider's plan to take the woman and children to Helm's Deep."
"The long forgotten fortress of Helm's Deep," the wizard said, knowingly. "The men will stay behind for the battle?"
"Yes, lord." They entered through the imperial doors, Grima following very closely behind Sauroman, eagerly awaiting his reaction.
"Very well. The army will head them off at the pass.and kill them."
Grima, startled, took a step back. "But, my lord, I."
Sauroman's gaze was hard as he stared at his spy. The frightened, disbelieving eyes sickened him. The little man before him, so greedy and almost worthless, wanted more?
"Well, out with it!"
"The Lady Eowyn, sir. She plans to lead the group to safety. I thought a capture would be more in order here." Shrinking back, Grima dared not look at him.
"Ahhh.your prize. I'd forgotten. A capture? I'm not sure the orcs could handle such a task, hungry and weary as they are. But, if you wish the Lady Eowyn to be spared, it shall be so. I had offered you that, hadn't I? And for all your services, I should fulfill my.obligations." The tone, the eyes, they all suggested sarcasm and a bit of malice. But Grima was relieved, despite the hidden meaning in Sauroman's words.
He arrived back at Rohan, the orcs still camped out on the hillside near the kingdom. Grima nodded to a few of them as he passed, a smirk on his face. He flew into the throne room, took his place beside the fallen King, and waited for the men to make their daily report. The King didn't even acknowledge his entrance.
That night, the third night of the orc's encampment outside the city walls, Grima was restless. As long as the armies weren't in full-fledged attack, there would be no need for the retreat to Helm's Deep, and the plot would be ruined. He had to coerce them into action, had to get the ball rolling. An idea popped into his head, a minor kindling to add to the flame. Sneaking into the servants quarters, Grima entered the room of the young Naima. She slept soundly, curled into a ball. When he woke her she cowered in fear. The girl had heard storied of the advisor and his midnight visits, a hunger always raged within him. But that was not his purpose that night. He had something much bigger in mind for her.
She listened intently to his whisperings. She could make out the tip of his silver tongue as it touched his teeth and lips, the lips that smiled at her for once. Entranced, she had no choice but to obey him.for once you are under the leech's spell, you are helpless.
Lots more soon!