Sauron concentrated on the great, fiery, magical Eye that he had set on the top of his tower in between two monstrous black spires. He turned it this way and that, looking for his beloved ring which would allow him to free his master, Morgoth. Everyday, Sauron did this, trying, oh-so-very hard to find his precious, but to no avail.
"Where are those damn halflings?" Sauron thought in anger.
)O(
Frodo, Sam, and Sméagol/Gollum have, by this time, reached the Dead Marshes near Dagorlad.
)O(
Sauron's Eye continued its search across Middle-Earth. When it passed over the area in front of his Black Gate, it paused, causing Frodo to stagger for just a moment. Sauron noticed the pause, and sent out his Nazgûl to investigate.
)O(
Sméagol shoved Frodo and Sam into one of the many pits that dotted the plain. They cowered, and Frodo fainted as one of the Nazgûl flew over their hiding spot.
)O(
Sauron seethed with anger. His Nazgul had found nothing, nothing! He took his anger out on Saruman, he who was once called the White, and is now of Many Colors.
"You idiot." he said menacingly through the palantír. "You told me that you would have all of Rohan under your control by the end of the week. And what do I find? Not one, not even one of my orcs has returned from Helm's Deep. My spies report that the king of Rohan is no longer bent and sightless, but upright and in control. What happened to Wormtongue, I ask you?"
"My lord, I did not expect Fangorn to move against us so soon, or even at all."
Sauron did not dignify Saruman's ridiculus excuse, even though he knew it to be true. He stepped away from the palanír, effectively ending their conversation.