Just then Sam Gamgee heard a sound and looked up. He listened harder. What was that? He heard it again. Thumping, and clanging. It sounded like there was a scuffle up there.

'So that's where the last of those ugly brutes are,' he thought grimly, gripping the hilt of the small sword that he held in his hand. As Sam continued down the dark stone corridor, Sting slowly began to turn a dull blue, slowly growing brighter with each step.

There was a particularly loud bang that echoed down through the floors and Sam quickened his pace, fear coursing through him. His thoughts immediately flew to Frodo. What could be happening up there? He had a feeling it had something to do with the prisoner.

'Stop lagging, Sam Gamgee,' he told himself, no quickening to a trot. Despite what he kept telling himself, horrible thoughts continued to plague Sam's mind. What if Mr. Frodo was already dead?

Sam stifled a small sob. No, no he wouldn't let that happen. 'He needs you, Sam.' He told himself firmly. 'Don't think like that now, he needs you.'

He stopped at the base of a staircase that spiraled slowly up. Paused for a moment, then rushed onwards, the occasional sound from above urging him ever on.

All of a sudden there was a sound that made Sam's blood turn to ice, the sound he had secretly feared since he entered this dreadful tower. And it was no orc.

A small but loud scream rent the air. A tormented yell, followed by many strange but more faint sounds. Sam listened harder. A whip cracking. The screams continued for a few more moments, each more pained than the last. Sam flew up the stairs, nearly blinded by tears. He knew whose screams they were. There was no mistaking the voice.

A terrible anger and hate burned through his heart and the even stronger love for his master coursed through his veins. If he ever got a hand on an orc, any orc in the place, he swore he could kill them with his bear hands at the moment, without help of a blade, so great was his anger. Then the cries stopped, but the unmerciful cracking noises continued longer.

Sam continued to struggle up the stairs, his breath coming in great gasps, tearing at his throat. Then all went quiet. Sam paused for a moment, trying to quiet his breathing so he could hear better. All was silent.

He hurried on as fast as he could, sword held out in front of him. At last the stairs ended and he came to a circular landing, all of gray stone like everything else. Several more dark passages led out of it. Sam had no idea where to turn. No sounds aided him in his pursuit any longer.