Author's Note: Sorry it's taken so long to get this next chapter up. For
some reason, I couldn't get the site to upload it!
Chapter 7 Swept Away
Sam actually felt better the next morning. He didn't think it was possible, but the effects of Takir's tonics were remarkable. Takir nodded with satisfaction as he noted the hobbit's improved color and energy. "I think you will live, small one," he smiled. "You still have a long way until you are fully recovered, but I believe you will be alright in time. We must feed you well so that you will be strong and healthy when we present you to the emperor." Sam felt his stomach drop at the mention of this emperor. He didn't think being executed for his part in the destruction of the One Ring or becoming a slave sounded particularly pleasant. All he could do was hope that he would find an opportunity to escape, although, in his present condition, he doubted he would make it very far. He sighed mournfully as he considered his predicament.
"Do not be sad, Samwise Gamgee," said Sayeed cheerfully, "You may find that you like our country and will be content there. Harad is beautiful in its own way.
"Oh, I don't doubt it, Master Sayeed," replied Sam slowly, "But you see, sir, it's been a very long time since I've set foot in my home back in the Shire and I miss it with all my heart. The Shire is one of the most beautiful places in all o' Middle Earth and make no mistake about that! I've seen many a strange place since me and Mr. Frodo left Hobbiton, but none, not even Lothlorien or Rivendell can compare to the Shire in my opinion!" Sam looked away, tears forming in his eyes, as he recalled more pleasant times back in the Shire with Mr. Frodo and the rest of his friends and family. What wouldn't he give to be back home in Bagshot Row or in the gardens of Bag End.
He didn't have time to think about this for long, for the captain ordered everyone to pack up and get ready to move out. It took Sayeed only a few moments to return his meager possessions to his pack and saddle his waiting steed, Indah. Then, he gently lifted Sam onto the tall black horse before swinging himself easily into the saddle behind him. Takir handed Sayeed a small flask. "Give the hobbit a drink of this every few hours. It will help strengthen him." Sayeed nodded and tucked the flask into his shirt. He then turned Indah and joined the others already waiting.
The troop was forced to head east now, along a low mountain range running perpendicular to the main range. Sam wondered how long they would have to travel to finally reach their destination. Although he felt better, he was still in considerable pain and very tired. The horse's gait was surprisingly smooth and Sam slept, lulled by Indah's steady rocking motion. When he awoke, Said would make him drink some of Takir's tonic which although foul tasting, did make him stronger. He watched dully as the barren wastelands passed before his eyes. He remembered the last journey through Mordor he had made with Mr. Frodo and was thankful at least his beloved master was not here with him now. "Even if he is dead," he thought pensively, "He's in a better spot than me!"
As the sun began to disappear behind the mountains at their back, Sam saw that they had come to the end of the range barring their way to the south. He finally got up enough nerve to ask Sayeed about their route.
"When we came," began the young rider, "We rode with a great army of footsoldiers up the Harad Road, through the gardens of Ithilien and on to the Black Gates of Mordor. It was a much faster way than how we go now. Unfortunately, the armies of the West now control the northern portion of Ithilien and we cannot return that way. So, we will follow the mountains until we come to the River Poros. It starts in the mountains just south of this range blocking our way and has created a pass we can use. We expect to reach the river in 2 or 3 more days. I just hope the enemy has not blocked our way to the south."
"And that'll put me that much farther from the Shire and home," muttered Sam despondently. The troop settled down for the night at the foot of the mountains. They were in a relaxed mood, more than ready to go home. This foray into Mordor had been a disaster for all concerned. Now that Lord Sauron had fallen, there was no iincentive to keep them there.
The next few days were simply repetitions of the first. Sam was slowly regaining is strength, but still experienced considerable discomfort, which made the trip even more miserable. He was terribly depressed. He missed Mr. Frodo desperately and was apprehensive about his future. He felt hope slowly slipping away. The Haradrim were not cruel to him, although with the exception of Sayeed and an occasional visit from, Takir, he was ignored. Sayeed would sometimes tell him stories of life in Harad, stories of adventure and exotic creatures (Sam was fascinated by Oliphaunts) which helped pass the time. In turn, Sam told him about Frodo and the Shire and stories he remembered from Bilbo. The two were becoming unlikely friends.
They met no one, but the captain never let down his guard. He knew there were random groups of unrestrained orcs traveling throughout Mordor and he didn't wish to encounter any unprepared. He made sure guards were set every night and all of the riders kept their eyes open during the day. Finally, on the fifth day of their trip, they came upon the small gap in the mountains that led to the River Poros and out of the black lands of Mordor. The troop would be forced to ride up into the mountains to the head of the river and follow it out to Ithilien where it would be large enough to navigate if the terrain was too rough for the horses.
Captain Fahim led the group of black-clad riders into the canyon where the river had its start. The narrow defile was just wide enough for one rider at a time, so they rode in single file. Sam and Sayeed were near the end of the line. Sam was feeling very claustrophobic between the high, close walls of the gorge. He remembered similar places from his travels with Mr. Frodo in Emyn Muil and the memories were not pleasant ones. The troop was steadily climbing uphill and the going was difficult for the horses. The large beasts did not seem to like the passageway any more than Sam.
They rode in silence. Sam felt as it every sound made by the horses was amplified in this confined space and he worried that perhaps an avalanche might bury them all. "This might by a fine place for a dwarf like Gimli," he thought nervously to himself, "But it's not a fit place for a hobbit!"
When they finally reached the crest of the pass, the party was relieved to find the narrow passageway opened into a wider gorge. A steam flowed down the center and the sky was visible above them. The riders stopped so that their horses could drink. A couple of the men who had scouted ahead were waiting for them with news of what lay ahead.
Sayeed watched the older men with a certain yearning in his eyes. Sam realized that babysitting him probably wasn't the most exciting assignment for a young soldier and almost felt a little a sorry for his guard. "Do you think it will be easier from here?" the hobbit asked. Sayeed blinked and at looked down at his charge.
"I do not know," he said absently, "If it is any worse, we will have to turn back." Sam didn't think that sounded promising. He didn't want to be a captive, but at least they were heading out of Mordor. He still hoped he could figure out a way to escape once they were past the mountains and into Ithilien.
Fortunately for all, the gorge was passable and the horses were able to navigate their way through the water and the rocks without too much difficulty. It was still very narrow, but riders could travel two or three abreast. The path continued downhill now and the stream grew larger the farther they went. It was now more of a river and some places looked dangerously deep and rapid. As the day progressed, dark clouds began to form over the Mountains of Shadows and the wind started to rise. The horses became increasingly nervous, as did their riders. There was no cover in the gorge and the only logical course was to journey on as quickly as they could and hope they reached safer terrain before the storm hit in full force.
Sam was feeling the tension. He didn't like storms and the force of the wind was making headway difficult. Sam looked up in alarm as he felt the first plop of a fat raindrop on his head. Sayeed's head snapped up as he too felt the beginnings of the rain's assault. "This is not good, my little friend," yelled Sayeed above the roar of the wind and the river, "You must hold on very tightly!" Sam nodded that he understood and gripped the pommel of the saddle with even greater force. He felt Sayeed's arm grasp him more firmly about the waist. Sam grimaced in pain at the pressure on his injured ribs, but said nothing.
The winds continued to rise and soon little was visible through the opaque curtain of blowing rain. It was almost as dark as night. The horses were stumbling and their riders were fighting to keep the terrified creatures under control. Sam kept his eyes tightly closed, praying that he and Sayeed would make it through the storm in one piece. Suddenly, he heard Sayeed curse. Sam's eyes snapped open and he gasped in horror. The horse ahead of them was already up to its belly in water and struggling to keep its feet. The river was rising! Sam knew that in this narrow gorge, even a small amount of rain could be enough to create a cataclysmic flash flood, killing them all. The water was rising rapidly and increasing in speed. As Sam watched, one rider after another was swept away when their horses finally lost solid footing. The screams of the terrified beasts filled Sam with a fear he hadn't felt since Moria. A moment later, his own mount slipped and he felt himself torn from Sayeed's grasp and hurled into the icy torrent.
Sam was terrified of water under the most ordinary of circumstances. He couldn't swim and spent little time near any sizeable bodies of water in the Shire if he could help it. A peaceful afternoon fishing along a lazy brook was about the level of his tolerance. Now, he was fighting to get his head above the surface of the churning flood waters. For a moment, his head broke through and he gasped desperately for air, only to find himself quickly submerged again. The force of the river was so great that he could do little to save himself and hoped that if he were going to drown, it wouldn't take too long. He remembered little of that nightmarish ride down the rapids. He was able to surface often enough to keep from drowning, but he frequently found himself being battered against stones and boulders in his path. He knew that if he survived this, any healing that had been accomplished would have to start over again.
It seemed like hours since he had been snatched from Sayeed's grasp and the frigid water had numbed all feeling. He had no idea how far he had traveled down the river and saw no sign of any of the others. Suddenly, he found himself thrown against a large boulder in the center of the river and wedged in a large cleft in the rock's side. The force of the rushing water held him there. He frantically gasped for breath, as his burning lungs screamed for air. His head was pounding and he felt warm blood flowing down the side of his face from a wound in his scalp. He looked wildly around for any means of escape, yet saw nothing but the rushing water all about him. He closed his eyes for a moment and took several deep breaths, fighting down the panic rising within him.
"It's alright, Samwise Gamgee!" he tried to assure himself, "As long as you can stay right here in this rock, the water should go down sooner or later. I hope!" He was able to find some purchase for his feet and he felt a little more secure. He continued to search for a means of escape when he spied a dark form bobbing in the water coming straight towards him. Unthinking, he grabbed for it as it came near and with strength he didn't know he possessed pulled the form towards him. "Sayeed!" Sam cried in dismay, recognizing the face of the unconscious soldier. The young man's face was badly bruised and blood was oozing over one side. Sam pulled Sayeed closer to him, all the while fighting the determined grasp of the river. The small hobbit managed to get a grip under Sayeed's arms and using his legs as leverage pulled the sodden boy into the meager protection of the cleft. It was all he could do to hold on. Sam prayed they he would have the strength to keep them both from being carried off again and into almost certain death.
Chapter 7 Swept Away
Sam actually felt better the next morning. He didn't think it was possible, but the effects of Takir's tonics were remarkable. Takir nodded with satisfaction as he noted the hobbit's improved color and energy. "I think you will live, small one," he smiled. "You still have a long way until you are fully recovered, but I believe you will be alright in time. We must feed you well so that you will be strong and healthy when we present you to the emperor." Sam felt his stomach drop at the mention of this emperor. He didn't think being executed for his part in the destruction of the One Ring or becoming a slave sounded particularly pleasant. All he could do was hope that he would find an opportunity to escape, although, in his present condition, he doubted he would make it very far. He sighed mournfully as he considered his predicament.
"Do not be sad, Samwise Gamgee," said Sayeed cheerfully, "You may find that you like our country and will be content there. Harad is beautiful in its own way.
"Oh, I don't doubt it, Master Sayeed," replied Sam slowly, "But you see, sir, it's been a very long time since I've set foot in my home back in the Shire and I miss it with all my heart. The Shire is one of the most beautiful places in all o' Middle Earth and make no mistake about that! I've seen many a strange place since me and Mr. Frodo left Hobbiton, but none, not even Lothlorien or Rivendell can compare to the Shire in my opinion!" Sam looked away, tears forming in his eyes, as he recalled more pleasant times back in the Shire with Mr. Frodo and the rest of his friends and family. What wouldn't he give to be back home in Bagshot Row or in the gardens of Bag End.
He didn't have time to think about this for long, for the captain ordered everyone to pack up and get ready to move out. It took Sayeed only a few moments to return his meager possessions to his pack and saddle his waiting steed, Indah. Then, he gently lifted Sam onto the tall black horse before swinging himself easily into the saddle behind him. Takir handed Sayeed a small flask. "Give the hobbit a drink of this every few hours. It will help strengthen him." Sayeed nodded and tucked the flask into his shirt. He then turned Indah and joined the others already waiting.
The troop was forced to head east now, along a low mountain range running perpendicular to the main range. Sam wondered how long they would have to travel to finally reach their destination. Although he felt better, he was still in considerable pain and very tired. The horse's gait was surprisingly smooth and Sam slept, lulled by Indah's steady rocking motion. When he awoke, Said would make him drink some of Takir's tonic which although foul tasting, did make him stronger. He watched dully as the barren wastelands passed before his eyes. He remembered the last journey through Mordor he had made with Mr. Frodo and was thankful at least his beloved master was not here with him now. "Even if he is dead," he thought pensively, "He's in a better spot than me!"
As the sun began to disappear behind the mountains at their back, Sam saw that they had come to the end of the range barring their way to the south. He finally got up enough nerve to ask Sayeed about their route.
"When we came," began the young rider, "We rode with a great army of footsoldiers up the Harad Road, through the gardens of Ithilien and on to the Black Gates of Mordor. It was a much faster way than how we go now. Unfortunately, the armies of the West now control the northern portion of Ithilien and we cannot return that way. So, we will follow the mountains until we come to the River Poros. It starts in the mountains just south of this range blocking our way and has created a pass we can use. We expect to reach the river in 2 or 3 more days. I just hope the enemy has not blocked our way to the south."
"And that'll put me that much farther from the Shire and home," muttered Sam despondently. The troop settled down for the night at the foot of the mountains. They were in a relaxed mood, more than ready to go home. This foray into Mordor had been a disaster for all concerned. Now that Lord Sauron had fallen, there was no iincentive to keep them there.
The next few days were simply repetitions of the first. Sam was slowly regaining is strength, but still experienced considerable discomfort, which made the trip even more miserable. He was terribly depressed. He missed Mr. Frodo desperately and was apprehensive about his future. He felt hope slowly slipping away. The Haradrim were not cruel to him, although with the exception of Sayeed and an occasional visit from, Takir, he was ignored. Sayeed would sometimes tell him stories of life in Harad, stories of adventure and exotic creatures (Sam was fascinated by Oliphaunts) which helped pass the time. In turn, Sam told him about Frodo and the Shire and stories he remembered from Bilbo. The two were becoming unlikely friends.
They met no one, but the captain never let down his guard. He knew there were random groups of unrestrained orcs traveling throughout Mordor and he didn't wish to encounter any unprepared. He made sure guards were set every night and all of the riders kept their eyes open during the day. Finally, on the fifth day of their trip, they came upon the small gap in the mountains that led to the River Poros and out of the black lands of Mordor. The troop would be forced to ride up into the mountains to the head of the river and follow it out to Ithilien where it would be large enough to navigate if the terrain was too rough for the horses.
Captain Fahim led the group of black-clad riders into the canyon where the river had its start. The narrow defile was just wide enough for one rider at a time, so they rode in single file. Sam and Sayeed were near the end of the line. Sam was feeling very claustrophobic between the high, close walls of the gorge. He remembered similar places from his travels with Mr. Frodo in Emyn Muil and the memories were not pleasant ones. The troop was steadily climbing uphill and the going was difficult for the horses. The large beasts did not seem to like the passageway any more than Sam.
They rode in silence. Sam felt as it every sound made by the horses was amplified in this confined space and he worried that perhaps an avalanche might bury them all. "This might by a fine place for a dwarf like Gimli," he thought nervously to himself, "But it's not a fit place for a hobbit!"
When they finally reached the crest of the pass, the party was relieved to find the narrow passageway opened into a wider gorge. A steam flowed down the center and the sky was visible above them. The riders stopped so that their horses could drink. A couple of the men who had scouted ahead were waiting for them with news of what lay ahead.
Sayeed watched the older men with a certain yearning in his eyes. Sam realized that babysitting him probably wasn't the most exciting assignment for a young soldier and almost felt a little a sorry for his guard. "Do you think it will be easier from here?" the hobbit asked. Sayeed blinked and at looked down at his charge.
"I do not know," he said absently, "If it is any worse, we will have to turn back." Sam didn't think that sounded promising. He didn't want to be a captive, but at least they were heading out of Mordor. He still hoped he could figure out a way to escape once they were past the mountains and into Ithilien.
Fortunately for all, the gorge was passable and the horses were able to navigate their way through the water and the rocks without too much difficulty. It was still very narrow, but riders could travel two or three abreast. The path continued downhill now and the stream grew larger the farther they went. It was now more of a river and some places looked dangerously deep and rapid. As the day progressed, dark clouds began to form over the Mountains of Shadows and the wind started to rise. The horses became increasingly nervous, as did their riders. There was no cover in the gorge and the only logical course was to journey on as quickly as they could and hope they reached safer terrain before the storm hit in full force.
Sam was feeling the tension. He didn't like storms and the force of the wind was making headway difficult. Sam looked up in alarm as he felt the first plop of a fat raindrop on his head. Sayeed's head snapped up as he too felt the beginnings of the rain's assault. "This is not good, my little friend," yelled Sayeed above the roar of the wind and the river, "You must hold on very tightly!" Sam nodded that he understood and gripped the pommel of the saddle with even greater force. He felt Sayeed's arm grasp him more firmly about the waist. Sam grimaced in pain at the pressure on his injured ribs, but said nothing.
The winds continued to rise and soon little was visible through the opaque curtain of blowing rain. It was almost as dark as night. The horses were stumbling and their riders were fighting to keep the terrified creatures under control. Sam kept his eyes tightly closed, praying that he and Sayeed would make it through the storm in one piece. Suddenly, he heard Sayeed curse. Sam's eyes snapped open and he gasped in horror. The horse ahead of them was already up to its belly in water and struggling to keep its feet. The river was rising! Sam knew that in this narrow gorge, even a small amount of rain could be enough to create a cataclysmic flash flood, killing them all. The water was rising rapidly and increasing in speed. As Sam watched, one rider after another was swept away when their horses finally lost solid footing. The screams of the terrified beasts filled Sam with a fear he hadn't felt since Moria. A moment later, his own mount slipped and he felt himself torn from Sayeed's grasp and hurled into the icy torrent.
Sam was terrified of water under the most ordinary of circumstances. He couldn't swim and spent little time near any sizeable bodies of water in the Shire if he could help it. A peaceful afternoon fishing along a lazy brook was about the level of his tolerance. Now, he was fighting to get his head above the surface of the churning flood waters. For a moment, his head broke through and he gasped desperately for air, only to find himself quickly submerged again. The force of the river was so great that he could do little to save himself and hoped that if he were going to drown, it wouldn't take too long. He remembered little of that nightmarish ride down the rapids. He was able to surface often enough to keep from drowning, but he frequently found himself being battered against stones and boulders in his path. He knew that if he survived this, any healing that had been accomplished would have to start over again.
It seemed like hours since he had been snatched from Sayeed's grasp and the frigid water had numbed all feeling. He had no idea how far he had traveled down the river and saw no sign of any of the others. Suddenly, he found himself thrown against a large boulder in the center of the river and wedged in a large cleft in the rock's side. The force of the rushing water held him there. He frantically gasped for breath, as his burning lungs screamed for air. His head was pounding and he felt warm blood flowing down the side of his face from a wound in his scalp. He looked wildly around for any means of escape, yet saw nothing but the rushing water all about him. He closed his eyes for a moment and took several deep breaths, fighting down the panic rising within him.
"It's alright, Samwise Gamgee!" he tried to assure himself, "As long as you can stay right here in this rock, the water should go down sooner or later. I hope!" He was able to find some purchase for his feet and he felt a little more secure. He continued to search for a means of escape when he spied a dark form bobbing in the water coming straight towards him. Unthinking, he grabbed for it as it came near and with strength he didn't know he possessed pulled the form towards him. "Sayeed!" Sam cried in dismay, recognizing the face of the unconscious soldier. The young man's face was badly bruised and blood was oozing over one side. Sam pulled Sayeed closer to him, all the while fighting the determined grasp of the river. The small hobbit managed to get a grip under Sayeed's arms and using his legs as leverage pulled the sodden boy into the meager protection of the cleft. It was all he could do to hold on. Sam prayed they he would have the strength to keep them both from being carried off again and into almost certain death.