I sat in the throne room of Barad-dur for what seemed like hours. Periodically orcs walked through, but never spoke to me. I supposed they never saw a human before. Either that or they knew something I didn't. I was fully expecting to be executed when Lord Sauron, as I had heard him referred to, returned. It was nearly midday before he returned.
He was still in the armor, but had no weapon. I stood up, not knowing what else to do.
"Sit down, Azra," he said. I did as I was told.
"Are you going to kill me?" I asked.
"Kill you? No. I have a better use for you," he said, sitting in his throne. I was confused.
"A better use?"
"Do you not know that you are beautiful?" he said.
"Beautiful?" I repeated.
"Look here," he said, holding out a round stone. I looked into it. Looking back at me was a girl with long black hair and watery green eyes. I smiled and so did she. I was looking at myself clearly for the very first time.
"I want to make you the master of my slaves," he said.
"You have slaves?" By this point I was surprised he hadn't killed me. I sounded like an idiot even to myself.
"My orcs are my slaves. They were once elves. I captured them and made them into what you see today. Now, I want to pass on that duty to you," he said.
"I have no idea how to capture elves. I don't even know where to look. I cannot use a sword or bow," I said.
"I will teach you and you will be their master," he said. "Or you will die. That is the choice I give you."
"Then I will do it," I said. Anything was preferable to death even if it meant catching and torturing some of the most beautiful creatures in Middle Earth. It was my life or theirs.
"I will teach you the ways of the sword and give you this," he held out his hand. In his palm was a ring. It had a large white stone in the center and silver ropes encircling the top of the ring. I took it.
"It will be known as Azra Naz and you will never take it off," he said. I nodded. It was the twenty first ring of power and second only to the power of the One Ring.
"Thank you, my lord," I said softly.
"Tomorrow I will teach you to use a sword. For now you rest," he said. He pointed to a spiral staircase. I walked up it and into a room. It was remarkably comfortable looking for the tower. From the window I could see most of Mordor. Mount Doom bubbled and spat fire occasionally directly across from me. Taking one last look out, I crawled into the bed and went to sleep.
One thing about Mordor, the sun never rises. It is always covered by cloud and ash. It is like living in a constant rainstorm only without the rain. A dark place for a dark lord. The only reason I woke up was a loud banging on my door sometime the next day.
"Lord Sauron wishes to see you," Dror said when I opened the door.
"I will be there in a minute," I said.
"And he sends this. It is for practicing," the orc handed me a mass of cloth. It was red robes in the softest fabric I'd ever felt.
"Thank you," I said. He gave a nod and lurched back down the stairs. I changed and walked to the throne room. Sauron was waiting for me. He still stood at his full height, but he looked like a man. Behind him stood nine black hooded figures.
"Who are they?" I asked.
"These are the Naz-gul. They are my most loyal servants. They will teach you to fight," he said. "Take this." He held out a sword. When I grabbed it, it nearly pulled me over. I had to use both hands just to lift it.
"Soon it will be lighter," he said. "You will see." I had no choice but to trust him. If I didn't, I knew I would be dead. He turned to the Wraith closest to him.
"Show her the old ways," he said. I tried not to show my fear. I had a feeling the old ways were going to be painful.
"Yes, my lord," he replied. Sauron left, leaving me staring at the nine.
"Strike me," the Witch King said. I swung the sword and contacted his blade. He quickly knocked it out of my hands.
"Pick it up," he said. I did as I was told. It went on like that for hours. I would strike and he would knock my sword down. Eventually, I learned to move with him when he tried to disarm me. It progressed like that for days. They would teach me one thing by repetition and move on to something else. They would take turns testing me on what I had learned. True to his word, my sword got lighter the more I fought. I began to enjoy the daily training sessions. Three weeks after my initial lesson, I disarmed one of the lesser Naz-gul.
"Good, very good," the Witch King said. "You are learning."
"Thank you," I said.
"Soon you will be ready," he said.
"Ready for what?" I asked.
"Ready to begin your task. Lord Sauron is building an army, but he needs more. He needs you to bring him more," he said.
"What sort of an army is he building?"
"An army to conquer the world of men and elves. An army of ten thousand must be ready to fight in two weeks time," he said.
"And I am in charge of readying that army?" I said slowly.
"Yes," he said. "You are the master of the slaves. You will create the army of Mordor." It was a daunting prospect. I knew nothing of war. I had barely learned to use a sword. Now it was my job to build the largest army in the history of Middle Earth. But I looked upon it as my duty. Sauron had spared my life. I would give him his army.
"Where will I go to find more?" I asked.
"That is up to Lord Sauron. He will send you when it is time," he said. I was eager to change the subject.
"One more?" I asked, drawing my sword. I could not see his face, but I suspect the Witch King was smiling.
The first time I went down into the dungeons of Barad-dur will be forever etched in my memory. It was where Sauron created his orcs, vile creatures that they were, but highly effective killing machines. Dror and Gimbrakh, the two that had brought me into Mordor, led the tour.
"We keep the ones we 'aven't quite finished yet over there," Gimbrakh pointed to a door on the far side of the dungeon.
"The new ones are over 'ere," he said. A line of orcs stood on the opposite side of the dungeon, awaiting inspection.
"And the fresh ones are in the tank in the back," Dror said.
"Lord Sauron left instructions for you to be in charge down here. They're only to take orders from you," Gimbrakh told me.
"Who was in charge?" I asked.
"Sauron himself did inspections, but he's left that to you," Dror said.
"But I don't know what to look for in an orc," I said.
"We're 'is finest," said Gimbrakh.
"So I am to look for ones like you?"
"Orcs are fierce, ruthless, and no good in the daytime," Dror said.
"You can't stand light?" I asked.
"'Urts our eyes somethin' terrible. We can't see anythin' in sunlight," Gimbrakh explained. "Go on, 'ave a look at the new ones." I looked at the line of about twenty of them. I took a deep breath and approached the first one. He looked like Dror with pointy ears and bluish skin.
"Open your mouth," I said. He complied and I got a good look at a set of razor sharp teeth. I grabbed his chin and looked at either side of his face. His skin was slimy in my hand. He didn't react as I gave him a looking over. Sauron must have made himself abundantly clear that I was to be obeyed.
"This one is acceptable," I said. Dror nodded to Gimbrakh and sent the orc over to be fitted for armor. They followed me the entire way down the line as I inspected each of them. No two of them looked the same, contrary to my original assumption. Dror would later explain that different kinds of elves produced different orcs. Of course, no orc could recall what kind of elf he began life as. One of the first stages in creating an orc was to erase his memory. When I was done inspecting the finished ones, Gimbrakh and Dror took me to see the newest ones they caught. I opened the door and walked in.
"She's brave. I wouldn't touch the things if I didn't 'ave to," Gimbrakh said to Dror. Dror hushed him.
There were about a dozen elves sitting in the small room. They looked up at me, surprised to see a human. However, they made no move to speak or otherwise signal me. They were all beautiful still, even though they had not been fed for days. It was like looking at a dying butterfly. Even though it is in it's last stage of life, something about it still draws the eye to marvel at it. I stood there among them regretting my decision to live. Had Sauron been there at that moment, I would have told him the bargain was off. I shook myself out of the daze and walked back out.
"When do we start them?" I asked.
"As soon as you give the word," Dror said.
"How many more warriors do we need?"
"About sixty. We're still ten short," he said. "But take a look at the ones we're working on. They should be done by tomorrow."
"Very well," I said. I was not prepared for what I was about to see. If one could look upon an orc and call it ugly, one could look upon a half orc and call it hideous. Dror and Gimbrakh came in with me as I looked at the ones who were lost somewhere between elf and orc.
The room was dark to shield their changing eyes. One was crawling on the floor in front of me like a wounded animal. It looked up at me, a disgusting half breed. His skin was gray and almost transparent. He looked at me with black eyes. His hair, once blond, was missing in most places. Only a few lone clumps remained. Suddenly, he came flying at me, teeth bared. I kicked him and he went flying across the room.
"Learn some respect," I snapped. "I am your master now." He whimpered and retreated back into the corner. Self preservation would always win out.
"That one is looking promising," Dror said.
"He's got the fierce part," I said. We left the room and I looked around the dungeon once more.
"Lord Sauron will be pleased," he said.
"Pleased? With his army?"
"With the master," he said. Master. I was starting to like the way that sounded.