Chapter 21 Reviews:
Hel – I'm hoping that Bruzmûk will become an interesting character, but he doesn't know (or rather, sense) what has happened to the witch-king. It'll become clear later on what he can and can't do, but I do worry that he may become one of those 'all seeing, all knowing' characters that are convenient for difficult 'plot hole' areas – especially with his enigmatic background. I do so hate clichés – though I know I'm probably guilty of performing a few myself. : (
~Chapter 22~
Grôltakh delicately picked up 'the box' and handed it to Ragnäkah, who shook as he took it. He did not know what it contained, but if it was in the presence of the Bruzmûk from Grôltakh's stories, then it was by no doubt deadly. It was a medium sized thing – a strange twisted square-type box design with many maroon panels and slats that could be moved about and fiddled with. In other words, the whole box was a complicated locking system and a puzzle.
"Uh… Grôltakh? C-can we go?" Ragnäkah asked in a voice more timid than he would have desired. Bruzmûk leered at him from under his cloak, and he was sure his eyes were full of a deranged sadistic gleam.
"Mmmm… you are afraid of me? So you should be! You have more sense about you than your two brothers over there," Bruzmûk murmured, nodding his head at Yutshrug and the nameless one. "But you have no reason to fear me… yet." Ragnäkah shuddered visibly again, wishing that this man would not look at him, let alone talk to him.
"I'll… wait ou'side," Ragnäkah said to Grôltakh, before turning on his heels and leaving before anyone (anyone meaning Bruzmûk) could protest.
In the room, all attention was turned back towards Bruzmûk.
"I know that your work here is importan', but I want you t' join my group, and it will be like the old days, again," Grôltakh offered. The mysterious orc cackled.
"What an idyllic-sounding little fantasy you have in your head! My work is indeed important, and I have not time to consider it now," Bruzmûk said whilst walking towards the door. "I am needed at the front as soon as possible, and I must leave now if I am to make it in time. I will give your proposal some consideration though, my old friend." His speech then turned into Black Speech. "Until next time, 'Elf-darkness'!" And the orc faded into the shadows of the Dark Tower and was gone.
The nameless orc resumed his looting.
"We 'ave what I came for," Grôltakh told them, walking over to the nameless one and forcing him to put everything back that he stole just by using the gleam in his eyes. "Now… something is goin' t' happen that will decide the fate o' Middle-Earth forever."
"How d' you know that?" The nameless orc interrupted.
"'Ave you been blind for the past fortnight? Why the fuck do y' think all o' these armies have been assembling, and all o' these strange things goin' on?" Grôltakh retorted. The nameless one had thought that everything that had happened to him was normal for this world – he had not known any different; he didn't want to think any differently, either.
"It would do us good to stay close to Bruzmûk when the outcome is decided," Grôltakh continued. Ragnäkah poked his head round the door.
"Good? Good! Did you just hear what 'e said? The man's headin' towards the front o' the battle! Now how's that a good place t' be? And be near him? Ha! The best place t' be is as far away from 'im as possible."
"I have known Bruzmûk since I was one hundred and seventy-six years old – two centuries ago. I know him, Ragnäkah, and if I say that the safest place t' be is near 'im, then that's the safest place t' be! Now get movin'!" Grôltakh sneered, grabbing the nameless one's arm even more tightly and shoving him out of the door. Yutshrug was soon to follow, and at that moment the candle suddenly burned out, and in the impenetrable gloom the room became alive with ghosts and things, moaning in a lowly voice to themselves. Had Grôltakh not known the way in which those souls had come to haunt Bruzmûk's quarters, he would have called their music harmonious.
Back at the entrance to the tower, the four orcs found Bruzmûk walking alongside The Mouth of Sauron, who was mounted on a midnight black steed. Ragnäkah clutched the box close to him, yet at the same time was torn away from it, knowing that its content was lethal – whatever it was.
"Is Bruzmûk a servant of The Mouth of Sauron?" Yutshrug asked Ragnäkah, observing the way that the two were treating each other.
"Idiot!" Ragnäkah exclaimed. "He is The Mouth of Sauron's second-in-command! He has tortured souls into second deaths, caused even the trees t' cry out in pain and divulge all o' their knowledge! He has broken some o' the most strongest, unyielding minds that 'ave ever existed. D'you know nothing?" Ragnäkah seemed to be the only one of the orcs paying some heed to any signs of warnings of Bruzmûk given to him by Grôltakh, and as always, Ragnäkah was not reacting in the correct fashion to the situation – not that any of the others were either. Grôltakh would have preferred three scared, slightly intelligent orcs than three ignorant, dumb orcs. Grôltakh could not help but smile at Ragnäkah's descriptive, melodramatic performance as he went over to speak to Bruzmûk one last time, whilst the three burdens were close on his tail. But all of a sudden, an Uruk-hai appeared in front of them, both hands on his hips, and a disappointing glare in his eye.
"What have we here then?" He said, staring down his nose at them. "O-ho! Isengarders! Did you double-cross that treacherous wizard, or did the treacherous-one stab you in the back? You should be off at the wars, my lads, by any rate!" He cracked his whip over Grôltakh's head, and pushed them all into the end of a row of orcs. "You'll be seeing battle, by any standards! Mark my words!"
"But we only just got 'ere!" Yutshrug cried to the back of the leaving Uruk-hai. Before Grôltakh could let out a barrage of insults at the Uruk-hai, more orcs joined then, flanking their rear and joining their side, effectively hedging them in. Ragnäkah could see that Grôltakh was not enjoying this; he preferred to be giving the orders, not being a pawn, and he knew that he could lead any of these orcs into battle as well as any of the Uruk-hai could – he'd had plenty of practice.
The nameless orc had not been into a battle before – not a proper one at any rate. The sights, sounds, heat and (unfortunately) the smells overwhelmed him, smothering him and making him shift in and out of consciousness. To him – like anything else that this world had given him to experience – it felt wondrous. And he had all of the march to enjoy it. Within minutes, they were on the move, running across the Plateau of Gorgoroth and back towards the Black Gates.
~End of Chapter 22~
A/N: The box is like one of those bloody 'rubix cube' things: impossible to solve, but you feel compelled to return to it to try and solve it sooner or later. *Amilyi tosses her rubix cube over her shoulder* Now what was I going to do to finish off the story? *Remembers* Ah, yesss…*Contemplates picking up rubix cube* Must… resist… the squareness…