Chapter Two: The Tower of Terror

I gasped in horror as I stared up at the Uruk, who grinned crookedly, showing many missing teeth.

"Gotcha!" he laughed evilly. "Thought you could escape us, did ya? Huh?" I cringed in disgust as the Uruk spat in my face. "Well, yer not gettin' away this time!"

He hauled me upright and bound a coarse rope tightly around my wrists, with about a foot left hanging to make a crude lead. This he held in his big hand as he dragged me along, grumbling under his breath.

"We'll teach yer… show yer what it's like to be one of us… we'll make you pay." He glared down at me, and I remained mute. My mind was racing with half-formed ideas and foolish plans for escape. All of them were senseless, futile.

"Good to see yer comin' along nice'n quietly," Krân told me. "Most o' the ones we catch try to kill us an' run away. They're not nearly as co-operative as you."

Co-operative! I thought, inwardly seething. Never. I'm biding my time, you stupid lump. I'll get free somehow. And then who will be the one to pay? Not me.

Krân glared down at me as I stumbled along beside him. His dark eyes were just as spiteful as they'd been the last time I had seen him. I stared icily back at him, loathing him and all of his kind, the twisted, barbarian monsters known as Orcs or Uruk-hai. I hated them all.

But little did I know what horrors awaited me once I was back among them…

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We reached Orthanc just as the sky was beginning to clear, a velvety black night showing behind the storm clouds. With its silent serenity, it seemed to mock the maelstrom of emotions seething within me. Fury, despair, terror, and dozens of others boiled in my mind and heart as I limped along behind my captor. I vowed I would get free, even if it cost me my life.

And Elennar… How could I have forgotten her, my beloved sister? If she was still alive, I would liberate her, too.

If she was alive… The thought tore viciously at my heart. What if she wasn't alive? What if Saruman had let the Uruks slaughter her, as he had threatened to do? I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her.

Krân stormed up the stone steps, dragging me beside him as he thumped along the dark corridor, and down toward the room that Saruman had taken me to the day before.

"In!" he barked, releasing his hold on the rope and shoving me forward. I fell hard, landing on my knees and my bound wrists. Wincing in pain, I stared up at the hundreds of cruel, merciless faces that lined the walls of the chamber. All of them were Uruk-hai, save for one at the back, a human.

The White Wizard.

Krân grinned at his master as he walked forward. Saruman's face remained hard and impassive.

"Got him," the Uruk said smugly, placing a none-too-gentle hand upon my shoulder. Saruman merely nodded. He strode up to me, looking me up and down. I knew better than to try and move.

Snatching Krân's sword from his hand, Saruman swiftly sliced through my restraints. I gasped and sobbed as blood rushed back to my hands, after being dammed up for so long.

Shakily I stood up, facing the man, with Krân standing next to me. I said nothing, nor did my companions. For a while we both stood in silence, gazing stonily at each other, loathing each other.

Then Saruman grabbed my wrist, causing me to gasp in agony as his clawed nails pierced my already scarred, bleeding skin. To suppress a scream, I bit my lower lip so hard that it began to bleed as well.

But alas, that pain was nothing compared to what I would shortly endure.

Saruman regarded me icily for another few moments before turning to his minions. He spoke not a word, but nodded once.

The Uruks leered wickedly at me as I cowered back, terrified. Slowly, silently they moved forth, tightening the circle around myself, Saruman and Krân, closing in on me. The Wizard stepped back so that he was among his servants, and in the echoing silence, he snapped his fingers.

It all happened in a split-second. Krân grabbed me around the waist and lifted me up as I kicked and screamed in panic; all of the Uruks pulled out various barbaric weapons, and my captor hurled me into the pit of filth.

I hit the sludge back-first, splattering muck everywhere as I sunk beneath the surface. I came up with a gasp, but just then the butt end of a spear struck me forcefully, and I only managed to get a quick gulp of air into my lungs before I submerged again.

The ooze filled my world. It pressed against my whole body with a cold, constant pressure. I was only dimly aware of the blunt ends of spear handles and sword hilts thudding into me, knocking me ever deeper.

Blind, mute, deaf and nearly numb, I could do nothing to free myself from this world of darkness and filth. And the Uruks were all using sharper objects now: metal-tipped maces, knife- and sword-blades, spearheads and the occasional boot.

They were cutting me, killing me, drowning me in sludge. I couldn't feel it, but my own blood was slowly mingling with the dark mud. I couldn't hold my breath any longer, and gooey bubbles escaped my lips as the thick muck poured in.

This is it, I thought. I'm dead. It's all over. I'm so sorry, Elennar…

But then, it was over. The Uruks gradually relented, and I rose slowly up. My head finally broke the surface, and I coughed up slime while choking down mouthfuls of the hot, reeking air of the filthy chamber. Then I stood, hoping my legs would support me. Thankfully, they did.

I stared around at my surroundings, which had not changed much. The Uruks had retreated to the walls, and only Saruman stood at the edge of the slimy pit. He nodded in satisfaction, and spoke to me in a clear, cold voice: "Who is your master?"

I didn't answer, knowing that naming Lord Celeborn, the Lord of Lorien whom my family had served faithfully, would condemn me. But I would never swear allegiance to Saruman.

"Maybe he's lost his voice, Lord," a timid voice suggested from somewhere near the back of the room. "It's happened before…"

"Silence!" Saruman yelled at the unseen speaker, who fell silent immediately. Turning back toward me, he demanded, "Is that it? Have my minions stabbed your voice away?"

Relief flooded through my body at the prospect of a plausible alibi. I managed to keep the emotion from showing in my face as I nodded mutely. Saruman frowned slightly at me, but did not comment for a short while.

"Very well," he rapped briskly, after a few moments of silence. "Get out of my sight. Now!"

I didn't hesitate, but fled willingly, up the stairs and the long corridor at their top. I had only one purpose in mind, now that I was free. That purpose was to rescue my little sister.

At last I reached the room in which I had last seen Elennar imprisoned. Carefully I tried to push the door open. It creaked in protest under the pressure of my hand, but moved grudgingly inward. Trembling at the thought of what I might find inside, I stepped over the threshold…

And there she was. A thin, shivering wretch, huddled in a corner beneath a blood-stained battleaxe. Her soft blonde hair, once lustrous, perfectly combed and teasingly twisted into shimmering golden braids of tangible sunlight, now hung in oily, unkempt tangles about her narrow shoulders, which shook incessantly as she sobbed silently.

Sharp pangs of sorrow and guilt made my heart twinge, but at least she was alive. She hadn't been murdered. I breathed a sigh of relief, and Elennar jerked suddenly and turned. When she spotted me, her deep blue eyes grew wide in horror, and she tried without success to press her body further back in the corner.

"D- don't hurt me!" she wailed. "P- please, I haven't d- done anything!"

I stepped back from my sister, shocked by her words. I didn't understand. Why would I ever want to hurt Elennar? I loved her more than anything else on earth.

"Elennar, it's me!" I cried desperately. "Don't you recognize me? I'm Isilden, your brother! I-"

I broke off with a horrified gasp, for the terrible voice that had emanated from my throat was not my own, but a harsh, strangely accented rasp. I staggered back a few paces, as the realization of my fate struck me with all the force of a battering-ram.

I was an Uruk.

This can't be happening! It can't! Over and over I repeated those words to myself, even as I turned away from my sister and dashed back down the hallway, hot tears mixing with the perspiration that was streaming down my face from the exertion of running, and washing away the dried slime that was caked onto my features.

I would have kept running straight out of the tower and as far away as possible, but all of a sudden I was caught fast by a strong hand. Shaking, I turned to find myself gazing into Lunk's mud-colour eyes.

"There you are," he said curtly, dragging me alongside him as he strode down the hall, in the same direction I was going. "Lord Saruman says I gotta getcha down to the armoury and the weaponry – you're gonna join the horde."

The horde? I thought, dread flooding through me like icy water. I'm supposed to fight for these monsters? Like the monster I am? Fortunately, I remembered my earlier excuse for my disloyalty to Saruman, and kept my mouth shut tightly.

"Lord Saruman says you're a mute," Lunk was now saying, as we turned down a hallway leading off of the one toward the Room of Filth, as I called it. "I dunno about that. Pretty uncommon, y'know, dumb Uruks. Ah, well. Guess you'll be what they call the 'strong silent type,' won'tcha?" He grinned lopsidedly at his own joke. I just nodded.

Lunk guided me through two different rooms, where I was fitted with a crude suit of armor a size too large, and armed with a long sword, which had a keen blade with one jagged edge.

We soon reached another door, no less dark or formidable than any of the others I had seen. Lunk pushed it slowly open with a wrinkled hand and led me inside…