A/N: Yes, it IS an update. Can you believe it? Whoa! But hey, it's the holidays and I'm lazy. But alas! Here is the next chapter (yes I did just say 'alas'). Thanks to Tanwen-whitefire, Deepbluesomething, Ellfine, Owlsrock and Hyperative Forever for reviewing!


Chapter Five

Suspicions

The flaxen fields continued to speed by. The night had been uneventful, making Legolas' watch predictably dull. Yet the shifting sable skies that night had radiated mystery. Legolas had gazed into it, trying to interpret the darkness just as Elladan was looking at the same sky, the last thing he saw before hitting the ground. Legolas tore his mind from the previous night in an attempt to relieve his uneasiness, only to hear the pounding of their horse's hooves, which reverberated endlessly in his skull.


Gorlak ground his heavily booted foot into the mud impatiently and spat into the river. They were late. He hoped for Furnash's sake that he was just late and not trying to pull something. Not that he ever cared for anyone's well being; it was just that his reputation as a "no bull" kind of a leader was at stake. But no sooner had this thought crossed his small but shrewd mind, he saw Furnash's group jogging towards them. "It's about stinkin time!" Gorlak called from across the short distance separating them. "Did you stop for sport or sumthin? Cause if you lot did…" Gorlak drew his stubby finger in a slashing motion across his neck.

"Of course we didn', captain. We followed your commands as order'd" Furnash simpered, in what he hoped was a convincing tone.

"Enough of yer snivellin'! Show me them elves I want'd!" Gorlak sneered. Furnash scowled.

"Turga!" Furnash yelled. Turga dragged a thick mossy net that apparently held the captives, to the feet of Gorlak. Gorlak glared hatingly at the jumble of net and bodies and kicked them about, seeing to it that they were each individually bound at the wrists, ankles and knees as well as gagged with some foul looking rags. They were both unconcious and drugged. And on their backs. Gorlak showed what looked like a half grin that was suspiciously evil looking.

"Not half a bad job, Furnash" Gorlak said with a suspicious lack of malevolence. Gorlak dragged the net roughly through the stinking mud and assigned the task of dragging it to several lesser orcs. Meanwhile, Furnash had been smirking smugly, not noticing Turga's building rage, who was lurking behind him. "Move out!" Gorlak ordered, "we're heading south!". He had received a message from Sharkey earlier that day that the last captive they needed was fairly close to their destination, which was Isengard.


Saruman sat it a high chamber of Isengard; his mind focused on the glowing and swirling palantir in front of him. He was searching, using all his will on trying to pinpoint the location of the heir of Isildur. It was heavily rumored that he had perished long ago and that the stewards who forever rule Gondor, but he knew the truth. He did exist. And he would be a key part in the process of finding the location of the ring. He had already tried his hand at the king of Rohan, Theoden. But Gandalf, his previous comrade had put an end to that. He scowled at the memory but diverted his rage towards his palantir. For a second he thought he had succeeded… he caught a flicker of his face and mind but was soon shut off. The man had known. After a few minutes of frantic prodding without success, he gave up in disgust, covered the palantir and stalked away.


A/N: I've started focusing on Saruman's intent more, and hopefully Aragorn will come into play soon.