DISCLAIMER: NONE OF THESE WONDERFULLY AWESOME CHARACTERS BELONG TO ME! THEY ALL BE LONG TO THE ONLY ERU AMONG US...
JOHN RONALD REUEL TOLKIEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Part Five
Pallando walked up the hill solemnly. His heart was with the big black bird that was currently headed due West, towards his hope. His spirits rose, as he saw a black shape moving farther out to the horizon. Pallando smiled softly, wondering if he would ever be able to accept Alatar's death.
Saruman rolled his eyes at the soft-spoken blue-robed Istar. Did the fool really think that a message sent by a crow would really make it to the high point of Taniquetil? He laughed harshly. What kind of fool would trust a crow to get through the talons of Manwë? Certainly a Blue Istar would fit that category though... Saruman smiled wickedly, and whisked away into the dark.
The Blue Istar heard Saruman laughing up the hill, and he thought grimly, He must know what I'm trying to do. I must not let him destroy me as well! Pallando climbed up the sheer hillside, thinking desperately of all the things that could go wrong.
What if the crow eats my message?
What if the crow doesn't make it to Valinor?
What if the crow is attacked by the eagles of Manwë?
What if Saruman kills me before help arrives?
The biggest flaw of Pallando was that he always assumed Olórin would be in Valinor. Unknown to him, was that the Chief Maiar of the King and Queen was currently making a name for himself up North.
Saruman sneaked down the gentle slope of the hillside, spinning around the hill base and watching Pallando struggling to climb the sheer side of the hill. You complete and utter fool! Saruman sneered, and snuck into Pallando's tent.
He located the small leaf of coimas that Pallando still had left, and tipped a thick black liquid onto it. The liquid quickly dissolved into the lifebread, and the White Wizard's work was done. He slipped the bottle of black liquid into his robes, and looked around for Pallando's water flask. If the coimas' kula didn't kill him, then this next thing would. Saruman took out a small spoonful of red powder, and tipped it into the water. He smiled cunningly. Now, all he needed to wait for was the next meal.
The sun rose up high into the sky. Pallando was sweating profusely underneath his thick blue robes, but he couldn't do anything about it. He just went into his tent, and took out his flask of water, and a small chunk of coimas. Saruman joined Pallando at the top of the hill. "Beautiful day, isn't it, o Blue Istar?" Pallando scowled, and whispered, "You'll never get away with the murder of my best friend."
Saruman smiled devilishly. "Your ONLY friend."
Pallando's face burrowed into itself, and he whispered coldly, "You may be the chief now, but everyone knows that Manwë would've had Olórin instead, but he declined. You know you don't deserve those white robes. One day, the Grey Wanderer will wear them, while you go and fall deeper and deeper into the pits of doom and despair."
Saruman laughed. "That was a fine example of rhetoric, but it will not faze me. If you think you can look into my mind, go right ahead, though you might just fall into a little... let us call it, misfortune."
Pallando scowled, and shoved the coimas into his mouth. It was unnaturally dry, so he took a deep swig out of his water flask to help him keep his saliva.
Saruman laughed very loudly and harshly. "My friend, you have just set yourself up for the utter brink of all things. There is now no way that you can win."
Pallando tried to fight the swirling images before his eyes, but his arm could not raise itself. "You... will never... win..." he gasped, "Olórin will defeat you in the end. It... it has been written by Manwë himself... you are not the chosen chief. You... you will fall."
Saruman watched the crumpled blue form collapse underneath the noontime sky. He kicked the bundle of cloth and bones over the sheer edge of the hill, and watched it roll down and end in a disgusting splatter.
The White Wizard packed his bags, and prepared to go West.
