Buffy in Isengard part two: I know that you know that I know.

Goldhair wasn't really surprised to find that "Baffy" had magical powers. She was obviously someone whom the Lord valued greatly. She had nearly forgotten that, among all the fun she had had with the lady Baffy all morning. She never thought she would find someone so much of her own kind among those with whom the Lord spoke and dealt with.

No, not surprised. Awed and rather terrified, on the other hand… yes, certainly. She had been scared enough when the boys had started another punch-up with the blasted Dunlendings. But then Baffy had got up and moved straight over to the centre of the fighting. And the first thing that had stunned Goldhair was how fast her friend was moving. One moment she was near her, the next she was there among a dozen or more angry and violent people.

And then… and then…

Goldhair could not follow what happened, it happened too fast. Suddenly everybody was being smashed right and left, and people were literally running away. The shouting turned into yells of fear and pain, and then died down into a few groans and a silence.

And her friend was standing up alone in the middle of the dining hall. And she was scolding them like a grandmother. After a couple of minutes, Goldhair could have laughed at the incongruity of it all.

Buffy went back and sat down beside her, in the same place she had vacated when she had gone to stop the fighting. People looked at her nervously. Well, she thought, it it's not as though they have no reason. She gave everyone a big smile, and bent over her meal. "The food's great," she said aloud, "let's eat it before it gets cold."

Goldhair answered: "It is, lady Baffy. It's kind of a legend in Rohan… a lot of people decided to come to work here because of all the stories about the food."

"Did they? Well, I can see why. This stew in wine is great… what is it, rabbit?"

"It is, my lady," said a voice behind her. Buffy had been aware that someone, rather short and rather fat, had been hovering behind her. She turned and smiled at him. "Are you one of the cooks?"

"I am. I don't mean to disturb, but the Lord Saruman suggested that you might need large portions. I was here to ask."

"Thank the Lord Saruman from me, and yes, that's a fact. I burn a lot of energy." Someone at the other end of her bench must have overheard that, because he said something that she could not hear distinctly, and there was a laugh. But Buffy did not miss the remarkable air of relief of the cook. For a place so handsome, where people ate and drank so well, there seemed to be a lot of tension around. The cook had been almost trembling at the thought of doing anything wrong.

Slowly talk was rising up again around the hall. It was still rather subdued, and many stealthy glances were stolen at the tiny blonde creature who had knocked peace into a couple of dozen large, work-hardened members of two tribes who hated each other.

"Go on," she said to Goldhair, "you were saying you came here because of the food?"

"Well, not me. Actually… You really are from another world, Lady Baffy?"

Buffy nodded, keeping her face unmoved. Her world might, by then, have been destroyed. And she might never know. And she had no idea what to do, except go on with what was happening here, and hope to learn enough to be able to go back.

"Well, it's like this." And Buffy noted that Goldhair was speaking low enough not to be heard over the noise of the hall, which had been rising again as people's confidence returned. "There is a war coming. Not everyone thinks so, many people believe things will go on as they have always gone… but they haven't 'always' gone as they think, have they? Sooner or later there is trouble somewhere and a war. It's been debated a lot in the villages."

"You mentioned it… you live in a village?"

"Yes. I live in Huntaworde… the hunters'farm… in my country, the Westfold of Rohan, east of here across the mountains." And she pointed vaguely eastwards, where Buffy knew that one of the two mountain ranges that encircled Isengard ran north to south.

"It's like this, Lady Baffy," said Goldhair, and her voice unconsciously became lower and more earnest. "Long ago, hundreds and hundreds of years, there was a really bad creature… the Dark Lord."

(OH-oh, thought Buffy to herself, this is beginning to sound familiar.)

People were going back to their food and their talk, uneasily at first. The noise slowly rose to the ordinary level of any dining hall where hundreds of people talk at the same time; in this case, more than half were women, which added a mass shrillness to the sound. But it was, after a while, relaxed and cheerful. In this atmosphere, Goldhair's quiet, earnest tones were rather striking.

"He wasn't human, Lady Baffy. Everyone says that, and it has to be true. Human beings have children, and grow old, and die. Elves, they say, don't grow old, but they do have children, and sometimes they can die. But he never did. He never had children, he never had a wife, and he lived many, many lives of men.

"The story says that he was beautiful at first, and that he gave gifts. He had a friend called Celeborn, who made weapons for him. But Celeborn discovered his real plan, to become king of the world, and broke away from him; so the Dark Lord went after him, and killed him, and used his body for a banner to lead his armies."

"He sounds like a real… nice guy," said Buffy, trying to make sure that the sarcasm could be heard.

"Oh, he was terrible, Lady Baffy. Everything bad there is, from murrain in cattle to Orcs to forest fires, we compare it to him. There are countries near the Great River far away that are still polluted by his armies, a thousand years or more after he went down. I haven't seen them myself, but my grandfather was a peddler in his youth, and he told us all about it." People around her nodded and murmured, and one man said: "My brother has been in the Dead Marshes, trying to round up some horses that had fled from Orcs. He said if he had known what he'd see, he'd never have gone, not for the Fathers of Horses themselves."

"So these swamps are still haunted… from something that happened centuries ago? Wow, that's harsh. I thought I knew hauntings, but..."

"Well, my lady, the Dark Lord was destroyed. There was a great war, the second greatest, they say, that the world has ever seen. They even say that the Elves came out of their woods to fight beside men. And they say that the kings of Elves and Men were both killed by the Dark Lord. But the son of the king of men killed the Dark Lord, and his power vanished.

"Mordor, the country the Dark Lord had ruled, lay abandoned and neglected, and fortresses guarded it. But then, centuries afterwards… but still a long time ago… someone using his name entered his ancient kingdoms, and became king. And ever since then there has been war and hate."

"And this is the same guy who had been destroyed earlier?"

"Nobody knows for sure, my lady. He uses his name and has occupied his kingdom, and the peoples who obeyed the Dark Lord now obey him. And he lives for ever and doesn't marry or have children. And they say that the Dark Lord was very beautiful at first, and then became uglier and uglier… and the Dark Lord today is so ugly, they say, that even Orcs are scared of his face."

"So… really, it doesn't matter whether it's the same or not. He acts the same. He's got to be the same kind of threat."

"That's exactly it, my lady. That's what I think. I think a war is coming. A lot of the guys here disagree, but I think a war is coming, and that the Lord Saruman is the only one who really has a hope of defeating the Dark Lord."

And that did get a reaction. Half the people around them tried to get a word in. It seemed that Goldhair was right in this, at least – that many people disagreed with her. Buffy tried to hold on to the thread of the discussion, and perceived that there were two main trends. Some people were trying to say that war was impossible, it was not going to happen in their time, the Dark Lord wasn't strong enough. Others were offended at the thought that Saruman was their only hope. What about the king? What about Gondor?

Buffy stood up and tried to shush them. To her amazement, they all fell into immediate silence. She had underrated the impact of her actions, only half an hour or so earlier.

"Look, I'm not going to hit anyone. I'm not mad at anyone. I'm just trying to understand. Who is the King? Who or what is Gondor?"

"My lady," answered Goldhair after a second, "we come from Rohan, over the mountains east of here. You know that. The king is our king, Theoden son of Thengel of Rohan. We all love him… he's a dear and brave old man… like a father to all of us. But I don't think he is strong enough to face the enemy. And Gondor is the great kingdom of the south… once they were the overlords of all the West, and we still are at their service. Twenty generations ago, they called our fathers to live here, when the land had been devastated by war and emptied of people. Since then we have been their allies.

"But now our King is old. Look, Hengi" (one man had been about to intervene), "we all love him, and we would all go to war for him and die for him. I mean, I'm a woman, I can't go to war for him, but I certainly would die for him if I had to. But face facts. He's old, he's ill, he's irresolute. If it wasn't for his son and his nephew…"

Hengi made as if to speak, then stopped and sat down. But he wore a disgusted expression.

"Really, my lady, the Lord Saruman is the only power who can resist him. Gondor is the shadow of what it once was. The stories are that once they could raid and fight wars as far as Far Harad, where the sun is so hot that men are born with brown skin, and they conquered and held down Mordor, the Dark Lord's kingdom. Now Mordor is not only risen again, but they have conquered all of Gondor's land east of the Great River. And once Gondor had a twin kingdom in the north – I think its name was Arnor – but now the North is leaderless and Gondor is alone, except for us." Everyone around her, including Helgi, was now looking grim, and there were a few nods. Evidently, when it was not a matter of dissing their own king, all the Rohan people agreed on the situation.

"Gondor is still very strong," said one of Helgi's friends. But he sounded as if he wanted to convince himself.

"I've been in Mundburg two years ago," broke in another. "and it certainly looked amazing… like Gondolin, or the kingdom of the Valar. But half the houses seemed to be empty, and a lot of the people I saw on the streets looked old. I think the war must be killing a lot of the young." Buffy's neighbours looked even grimmer. "I don't think the war is coming tomorrow, like young Goldhair here. But I think it will happen some time in the future, when the Dark Lord no longer fears Gondor."

"You see, my lady," Goldhair started again, "that is why I think we have to support the Lord Saruman. Of course he pays us well and feeds us better, but I for one would never have come here otherwise – not with all those Dunlendings and foul Orcs." And with this, she seemed to have caught the general mood.

"And the Lord is scary," said a woman, in a low tone.

"Well," said a scarred veteran, "I am here for the money, but you know I wouldn't have come except for the horse sickness two years ago, that wiped out my whole farm. We would all have starved to death, if not for the Lord Saruman's silver." Two or three other men, all with the look of poverty and misfortune on them, nodded.

"And the Dunlendings are those guys over there?" asked Buffy, pointing vaguely in the direction of the people who had taken part in the fight. The answer was little more than growls and a few muttered obscenities.

"They're thieves, Lady Baffy. Talking just about myself, we've had at least two raids at my family's farm that I can remember. They think they can take anything we have, because their ancestors lived in Rohan a million years ago!" And this started everyone else off. All sorts of charges were made against the Dunlendings, treachery, rape, consorting with Orcs. Buffy was uncomfortable. Even with her fairly privileged background, she knew too much about racial discrimination and ethnic prejudice, and the tone in Goldhair's voice raised ugly echoes. She had met people in Los Angeles who spoke like that against blacks and Latinos, even Latinos against each other – Cubans against other Latinos, Colombians against Venezuelans. It grated on her every time. But she still didn't think she should judge… at least not yet. She had not been here long enough,

A bell rang over the din of conversation, and everyone rose. Mealtime was over, and there was work to be done.

It was clear that the Dunlendings were still shocked and spooked by the way she had made peace. They all moved in one direction, towards the gate further away from Buffy. Some of them sneaked looks at her, and each time that happened, there would be a fall in the volume of chatter.

Then something unexpected happened. Buffy had already noted that some of the voices coming from the Dunlendings were those of children. Suddenly there was an agitation; a few adults seemed to barge into each other, and before anyone could do anything, a couple of black-haired chldren came running through everyone's legs, running straight at Buffy.

There was a deadly silence. Buffy alone did not perceive it, for the little ones had all her attention. She bent over, smiling, and talked to them. They answered back chirpily – they certainly weren't the shy kind of child. Buffy chatted with each of them in turn, then picked them both up, one on each arm, and walked towards the Dunlending group. Some people stood back, but a terrified, trembling woman, with tears in her eyes, stepped forward. Clearly, this was their mother. Buffy handed them back and the woman nearly broke down in tears. Good Heavens, thought Buffy, I must have really spooked them. She spoke kindly to the woman, complimented her on her babies, and caressed the children's heads. But the woman almost ran away.

That left a bad taste in Buffy's mouth. She just stood there as people walked out on both sides of her, and this time she did notice any time one of them sneaked a frightened look at her, or tried to stay as far from her as possible. She watched the two groups file out – keeping, she noticed, as far from each other as possible – and break up into smaller groups and gangs, obviously going to different duties.

When nearly everyone had filed out, Buffy realized that she had subconsciously felt someone standing still behind her. She turned and saw Goldhair, and she smiled.

Goldhair said: "Lady Baffy, I have been commanded to be with you today and show you around. Surely you expected me to stay here?"

"My dear, I don't know what to expect. This is not my world, and everything is surprising. But…" and then a horrified look came to Buffy's face. "You do have hugs here, don't you?"

"Hugs? Yes, we do embrace. It's a sign of love and friendship."

Before she had finished, a smiling Buffy was wrapping her in her arms. "And in that case… I am your friend, I like you, I trust you." And Goldhair felt herself blush.

"There is something I want to do, if it's allowed. Can we take a walk outside… maybe go to the woods and see Isengard from outside? It's such a lovely day, and, at home, I'd be out in the sun. Or maybe at the beach."

"What's a beach?"

Buffy could not help it. After a second's astonishment, she laughed till she almost choked.

She was still giggling as they went out of the tower. Buffy saw that the entrance was suitably monumental, but clearly very old. Before the gate there stretched a long paved path, with impressive marble-faced buildings, but Goldhair turned to one side and took Buffy through an alley that snaked between low, ramshackle huts that stretched on both sides. To Buffy, they seemed to have been put up in a hurry and without much attention to solidity or to grace. From time to time, one gained a peek of gangs of men working, or even, at some distance, of anthropoid monsters whom she supposed to be Orcs. Any time she saw one, Goldhair visibly sped up her pace.

Soon they were leaving the village. Goldhair had stopped to pick a bow, a quiverful of arrows, and a knife, from a booth that seemed to be the front of an armoury, but it seemed to Buffy that she only sped up the pace after that. Or maybe it was she, Buffy, who was hurrying them both out. Even under the bright sun of late spring, the huts and working areas looked mean and miserable, roughly whitewashed and filthy. Smoke rose from a dozen places, and only a few broken and rotted stumps remained of the trees that once must have decorated the place. The shining sunlight, indeed, only made it look worse.

But as the girls left the last of the huts behind, everything changed. The ground rose steeply, and Buffy could smell the resin of mountain trees. She had not been conscious of it, but it had bothered her, when she had passed from the stately shadows of the tower into the working village below, how many bad smells were registering on her ridiculously powerful senses. Indeed, she suspected that some of the things that were being worked and made in that maze of shacks were poisons. But ahead of her, above her as the ground rose, there were only trees and mountain flowers.

Or were there? Buffy realized that her senses now picked the hint of the musk, sweat and blood of animals. There were none nearby, but… some were strange. For a second or two, indeed, she was certain that she had smelled werewolf. She was familiar with it from her time with Oz. She watched Goldhair string and test her bow, and she thought that maybe the girl had a good reason to arm herself.

Goldhair looked at her, and smiled. "Lady Baffy," she said, "I know that you can fight, but are you any good with a bow?"

"I'd like to try. I use a crossbow, mostly. But before we start, I'll show you something." She picked up a rock, tossed it up in the air, and threw a second, smaller rock at it, while the first was still falling. The second rock hit the first dead center. She picked up another pair of rocks, and did it again.

Goldhair laughed and clapped her hands like a small child. "Again! Do it again! That was incredible." And a few more rocks followed. Buffy only missed once. Goldhair threw a couple herself, and Buffy hit them right out of the air. Then she held out her hand for Goldhair's bow. She tested the string, fitted an arrow and said: "What target?"

"Umm… the big knot in that tree over there," said Goldhair, pointing to a tree that was at least a hundred feet away. In one fluid motion, Buffy raised the bow and arrow to eye level, drew the string, and shot. The arrow flew straight and true, and its tip smashed right into the centre of the knot. "Aya!" said Goldhair; by the tone, Buffy guessed that it was the local equivalent of "wow!"

"An impressive shot indeed," said a voice behind them. Both girls jumped. Behind them, immensely tall and inscrutable, stood Saruman.

"Goldhair, I would like a word in private with the Lady Baffy," said the wizard quietly. Buffy wondered how she had never heard or felt him approach.

"Yes, my lord," said the girl, almost in a stutter; and she left, almost at a run. Buffy noticed again the sense of fear that seemed to attend Saruman, and it bothered her.

Saruman waited until Goldhair was out of sight before he spoke. "My Lady Baffy," he said, "I have been waiting for the opportunity. And first of all, let me welcome you to my kingdom."

"Thank you, my lord." This was the second time, she noticed, that he called himself a king. Nobody else had called him that. The Rohirrim valued their own king highly, she remembered, and they had never called the Lord Saruman in the same terms.

"So, I hope that you have absorbed enough Westron to hold a conversation?"

"I think so, my lord. I understand you perfectly well."

"That is good. You have chatted with Goldhair and other Rohirrim… I imagine you have had an idea of the political situation here?"

"I was told about a Dark Lord and the threat of war."

"Good. Very good. Do you know what I asked the powers, which they answered by sending you to me?"

"No, lord Saruman. But everyone who called on me wanted me to fight or die for them."

"Not die, no. Of course not! I asked for a weapon of victory."

There was a silence. Then Buffy spoke: "A weapon of victory. My lord, did you specify 'a weapon of victory against the Dark Lord'?"

"I did. Naturally one wants to avoid misunderstandings. Spells have to be precise."

"I wonder. Because, you see, my lord, I was a weapon of victory… until I was taken away from my world. And to be a weapon of victory, I had to be there, and I had to die."