Chapter 4

Older and Fouler

"There are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world." – Gandalf: FOTR film

Darkness surrounded him. Things in the world finally had seemed to be looking up. They had seen a light shinning a far off in their dark world, but it was shorn from their sight in one moment and they were forever sealed away into the dark. Aragorn was the last of Isildur's line, there was no one left. Despair and sorrow consumed him as he began to hate the cruelness of fate. His sorrow turned to anger as he shouted, "Was all our efforts in vain then?!" His voice echoed down the empty hall. His muscles relaxed and he said softly, "I can not believe. I will not believe that, after all our people have been through. The pain and suffering us and the elves went through to keep this from happening. To have our hope taken from us," He sighed heavily as he collected himself, "Maybe we were meant to become a memory and fall into darkness. We were a great people once," He rose and started up the steps, "but that was a long time ago."

He put his grief aside and determined to get out of Moria. The Numenoreans needed to know as soon as possible in order to plan the next course of action even without a chieftain to guide them. The elves should help them as they have all these years. He felt his way along the smooth, cold stone wall. He had lost the torch he had. Once at the top of the stairs he lit another one and went to the left. He hoped his path would take him back to the cave they had entered from. He'd figure out what to do with the orcs when he got there, if he got there at all. He journeyed down halls and up stairs and took turns he hoped would lead him back somewhere he recognized from earlier. They had struck a pretty straight course from the cave to the room with the many bridges. If he made it that far, perhaps he withstood a chance.

"Shut yer gob ya little maggot!" an orc voice echoed down the hall, "If there is another one, I'd find him. From the looks of it though, there ain't another one. P'hap's the troll had done ate him 'fore we got there." Halbarad darted into a room on his right. He shut the door and backed away slowly, his heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. As he backed his foot met open air. He struggled to regain balance before he fell. He grasped for something to hold onto not knowing where he was falling to or how deep. His hand met a chain and he grabbed hold with both hands, dropping his torch. His body jerked to a stop and he watched the torch fall down out of sight what appeared to be a well of sorts. "Whoa, high," He shuddered and was glad he caught himself. He was about to climb back out when he heard the door open and the slap of several feet on the floor. "Garn, we've checked this well 'n it's dry, why'd ya bring us down here Ufthak?"

"I thought me 'eard some' in." said Ufthak and it was quiet for a moment, "Blimey, there ain't nothin' 'ere, let's 'ead back, I don't want Burzash to 'ave all the fun."

"Burzash ain't gonna like that."

"You let me handle Burzash. The one we got from that troll might tell where to find 'im anyways when he wakes up." Halbarad's eyes widened and he let out a small gasp. Aragorn was still alive.

*~*~*

"Ya ain't got no brains Burzash! We just get down recoverin' from our loss to Glob's lot an' you go after that troll jus' so's you can have some fun with one mere human!"

"I want ta know what he's a doin' here. He's a spy no doubt 'n ya better 'ope that Ufthak don't mess things up or I'll let Bloshgursha have some fun with ya." Burzash looked over at the man who was lying on the floor who let out a moan. "Hai, looks like he's wakin' up." He said with delight. He reached down and grabbed a fistful of the man's hair and jerked his head up off of the floor. The man opened his eyes and looked dazedly up at the orc. Burzash let out a deep throaty laugh, "We're gonna' 'ave some fun with you. We don't take to humans, especially spies. What were ya doin' in our cave?" When the man did not answer Burzash punched him in the face. Then he let go of his hair, allowing the man's head fall back to the floor.

Aragorn felt like his head was going to explode. He pushed himself up with his bound wrists. There were only two orcs in the room. The orc who had punched him walked over to one of the many and broken stone chairs in the room. The pieces of the chairs lay all over the floor. The other orc sat on a large pile of rubble, he fiddling with the pieces of stone on his small mountain. The first orc picked up a knife from his odd assortment of small weapons, tools, and torture devices he had collected and made then walked back over to Aragorn. He grabbed Aragorn by the throat and held the knife up close to Aragorn's face, gently pressing it against his cheek. After a few moments of evil laughter, he slowly slid the blade down his cheek. Aragorn stifled a cry and hissed in pain. "Your friend should be joining us soon. When we tire of you then," he paused, showing off his yellow fangs with a grin, "we'll let Bloshgursha have some fun with you, if we don't kill you first." He drew the knife down Aragorn's upper arm; he then sliced him across the chest.

Aragorn now sat with his back against one of the chairs. He was now covered in several cuts and bruises started to form where Burzash had pounded on him. He listened to Burzash ramble about all sorts of things to the other one. Aragorn had learned that even orcs have some form of sense of humor. The other orc's name was Wart. No doubt in fact for the enormous warts that covered his head and face, several of which were as large as or larger than Aragorn's fist. Wart had hardly said a word back to Burzash and the more time that went by, the more Aragorn was certain that Wart just wanted to feed him to Bloshgursha and be done with it. Aragorn's throat was dry and fiercely ached for some water. He opened his eyes and saw Wart drinking from a skin. Burzash, who was picking through his pile, deciding what to use next, now looked up and saw Aragorn looking at wart. "Hoi, what's this now, ya thirsty? Wart, we've been rude to our guest." Aragorn wondered where this was going. Burzash grabbed the skin at his waist and tromped over to Aragorn. "You see this?" He delighted and shook it in Aragorn's face. "This is special water just for us orcs." Wart grunted in frustration and rolled his eyes but stayed seated and continuing to crush the smaller rock with a larger one into dust. Burzash pulled out the stopper and an aroma most foul filled Aragorn's nostrils. It smelled like cat pea mixed with troll dung on a hot summer's day in Harad. He felt like he was going to vomit. "We should offer him a drink."

"No thank you," said Aragorn dryly. Burzash backhanded him and grabbed his face. He shoved the spout into Aragorn's mouth.

"I insist," Burzash said as he forced the foul liquid down his throat. Aragorn writhed and squirmed as the liquor burned its way down. His stomach wasn't agreeing with the orc draught and it tasted far worse than it smelled. As soon as Burzash pulled the skin away Aragorn was bent over so his stomach could empty its contents. Burzash stood there howling with laughter. Wart climbed down from his pile of rubble and picked up a knife from the pile of tools and devices. He walked up behind Burzash and without hesitating he thrust the knife into Burzash. "I've had enough of this hog's swallow." He growled. Burzash fell to the floor and Wart grabbed a key off of the dead orc. He then pulled Aragorn up by the neck. "Stand up! You're going to go see Bloshgursha." Aragorn was too nauseated to argue. The room was spinning and his muscles were on fire. He wondered why Wart just didn't end it now. Whatever his reasons he seemed to want Aragorn to suffer in some way. He wouldn't be an orc if he didn't.

Wart tied a longer piece of rope to Aragorn's wrists to lead him with then took the closest set of stairs downwards. The stairs led to a series of passages many of which opened off to the sides into wide gaps and chasms where the dwarves had once mined long ago. They walked for a long time before finally coming to a room barred with an iron bar door. Wart produced the key he had taken from Burzash and opened the door. He shoved Aragorn inside and shut the door and locked it back before heading back the way he came.

Aragorn lost his footing when he was shoved in and fell to the heard something scrape against rock as he stood back up. A smell of rotting meat hung in the air. He glanced around trying to locate the source of the sound. There was a series of clicking sounds on the floor rushing towards him. He turned around just in time to see a pair of glowing red eyes.

*~*~*

Halbarad glanced around the corner, staying just within sight of the orc's torches. There were far less orcs than they had figured they had heard in the mountains. He hadn't considered the fact before that the mountain's echoes would have made it seem like there was a lot more. He felt so stupid, although he did not know if they had left any in the cave or with this Burzash. He might be able to handle these many orcs in these close walls, but he needed them alive so they could lead him to Aragorn. He almost lost hem once or twice when he tripped. He didn't dare light another torch.

They had now come to the innumerable bridges that he and Aragorn had crossed the day before, or was it the day before that? He had lost track of time. He knew it was night for the light was not shining through as it had done before. He waited until the orcs were out of sight before daring to cross the gap in the bridge. He prayed he would not miss as he jumped to the other side. A small piece of the bridge fell as he landed. He heard it hit the bridge below. Then he took a small sip of his alarmingly low supply of water before going to catch up with the orcs. He regained sight and followed them till they stopped. After a brief moment there was a commotion. An orc shouted out a stream of curses and names in orc before saying, "That Wart's killed Burzash and run off with our prisoner!"

"He's gone and taken 'im to Bloshgursha I'll wager," said Ufthak. He grabbed a torch from one of the others. "I'll handle this." He went down a flight of stairs while the rest went into the room. Halbarad approached the room cautiously and crept quickly and quietly by to follow the orc down the stairs. They went down the passages that moments before had been traveled by Wart and Aragorn. All the while Halbarad wondered who this Bloshgursha was. They had gone a long way before they ran into an orc their way. Halbarad assumed this could only be Wart judging by the warts.

"Hai!" shouted Ufthak, "What's got in your head, Wart? What makes you think you can kill Burzash and make off with our prisoner? Give me that key!" He withdrew his weapon, threw down his torch, and rushed Wart. Their warts clashed and clanged against each other. Wart gained the upper hand and stabbed Ufthak before pushing him off into the chasm that opened up on the side. Halbarad immediately rushed foreward and beheaded Wart with his blade. Wart's black blood squirted out from the severed neck as the headless corpse collapsed onto the floor. Halbarad felt the body for the key the orc had mentioned, picked up the fallen torch, and rushed down the passage.

Up ahead he saw an iron bar door. Was that the door the key fit? He put the key into the lock, it fit! He turned it and opened the door. "Aragorn!" he called as he rushed inside. He skidded to a halt just inside when his torch hit the back end of a hideous creature. It looked as if it belonged to an ancient time long passed in the beginnings of the world. It had lived its life in the in the deeps of the mountains, only to be dug up by the dwarves with their vain and endless mining. The orcs in the mines had captured it and fed it, making it their pet. As long as the orcs fed it it was content with the situation. The back end was long and porous that dripped a puss like slimy, oozing substance. It filled the air with a foul odor. Several long, insect-like legs sprouted off the sides of this body. The creature dropped whatever it was holding and twisted its body about to face Halbarad. Its head was flat with several rows of pointed teeth that took up almost its entire face. When the light from Halbarad's torch hit its large round eyes it shrinked back for a moment. Blood dripped from its teeth. Its head sat upon an upper torso of black leather-like skin with two pairs of arms like a lizard's.

On the floor where the creature had dropped him, lay Aragorn. He was badly scratched, bite marks, and cuts. Bruises too were forming. Halbarad tossed the torch aside and prepped himself for battle. He swung at Bloshgursha who evaded the attack. It swiped at him with his forearms. With his sword he blocked. He stepped to the side and stabbed the creature in the porous. Some of the oozing liquid squirted onto his wrist and immediately began to burn and itch. The creature howled in pain and came at him more ferociously. It pounced on him and sank its teeth into his shoulder. Halbarad screamed in pain then thrust his sword into its upper body. He withdrew it and stabbed again. The creature released his shoulder and Halbarad stuck his sword into its face. Purple blood sprayed into his face. He pulled out his sword and with Bloshgursha dead; he rushed to Aragorn's side. He was unconscious. Halbarad knelt down beside him and gently lifted his head, "Aragorn," he called, "Aragorn, wake up." Aragorn for a moment did not stir then he half-opened his eyes and looked up at Halbarad.

"H-Hal?" he whispered.

"Sh, don't speak. I'm going to get you out of here" Aragorn drifted back into unconsciousness. Halbarad set down his pack to take off his cloak. He tore a couple strips long-ways off of it then wrapped the larger piece around Aragorn's torso. He tied it together with the strips he had torn off; making sure it was not too tight. He pulled his pack back on and lifted Aragorn up onto his good shoulder. He picked up the torch and exited the room. He'd have to find another way out. He couldn't risk going back towards the orcs. Not with the state Aragorn was in. A pathway was near the door to the room and led downwards. He didn't stop, not even when his shoulder was tired and protested. He came to a place where the passage split off; one went down and curved left. The other evened out. After traveling some distance to the right he had to stop and rest. He lowered Aragorn to the floor then sat next to him. He was thankful his wrist had stopped itching and burning. Moments later Aragorn regained consciousness.

"How are you doing?" asked Halbarad.

"We need to clean them soon if we don't want any infection." He responded.

"Do you think you can walk?"

"I may need some help." Halbarad stood up and offered his hand to his cousin who took it. They got Aragorn to his feet and put his arm around Halbarad's shoulder, his body protesting to the movement. Once they were situated, they started off. The pathway soon began to go down again then straight again as they came another junction, four staircases which all led down. "Which way do you think?" asked Halbarad.

"I think we should head in this direction as much as possible. Let's try this center-right one." It was a long flight of stairs that led to a road steeply going down to a low arch. Beyond it was the largest hall they had seen yet with great black pillars doubly-lining down the center of the hall to the eastern end. "Fantastic. Another hall," said Halbarad sadistically and Aragorn chuckled. At the end was a stone bridge that was not very wide by all means and could only be crossed in single file. Halbarad once again lifter Aragorn to his shoulder and slowly started across the bridge. Aragorn gazed down below him into the cavern that descended into the unknown. "I swear if you drop me, I'll come back to haunt you." Once on the other side, Aragorn was let down to walk again.

Upon this side was a stair leading up and down a wide passage. Their feet echoed loudly down it. As they walked, the light grew about them from the roof. The next room had great windows where the early morning light entered. Beyond the next door they could see light coming in from the great gate before that led to the outside world. They paused for a moment on the top steps the view the land about them and breathe the open air. The stairs would lead to a road that wound its way through the country. Halbarad discarded his torch and they slowly went down the steps to the road. As they walked the road, Halbarad looked for a spring or a river that they could fetch water from to clean their wounds and drink. He spotted a pool of blue water down a hill on the side of the road. "Come on," he said," Let's clean these wounds." Once at the bottom of the hill, he set helped Aragorn sit down and put his pack down. He removed his skin and a cooking pot he carried over to the water. He dipped his hand in it first. It was unbearably cold! "It's too cold to drink, but maybe we can heat some up to clean with." He filled the pot with the water then looked around for any wood. When he had found and gathered enough from the nearby shrubs and trees, he set the pot near the fire to warm. While it was warming, he searched his pack to see if he had any herbs for healing. He found some that would fight against infection and pulled them out. As he did so he noticed his wrist was now swollen and red. Blisters were beginning to form and itch again.

He tended to Aragorn first and then himself. They rested for a while in silence until Aragorn said, "Well, curiosity didn't kill the cat."

I Met

Note: I totally made up Bloshgursha. He's not from Tolkien's ancient world. But you probably knew that. : )….and what's with my obsession with foul odors in this story? I don't know.