Chapter Twelve - The Snake Is Defanged
The company, headed by Gandalf and Théoden, rode out of Helm's Deep at dusk, making their way through the forest and then turning north-west and heading to Isengard. Travelling up the banks of the Isen, they came across the mound surrounded by spears that still bore Théodred's standard. Théoden and Éomer broke away from the company to pay homage to their fallen kinsman. They were away for an hour but when they returned, a burden seemed to have lifted from their shoulders, both concerning Théodred and each other. The company then spurred their horses on, reaching the outer walls of Isengard just as the dawn light was creeping over the trees once more. The company were a little startled to hear laughter, shouting and the clattering of pots and pans as well as smell the smoke of a fire and whatever was being cooked.
"Gandalf what……" began Aragorn.
"You shall see, dear boy. You shall see," smiled Gandalf, his eyes twinkling. Fire minutes later, Aragorn's face split into a smile that could have lit the Caves of Helm's Deep that Gimli had been describing in great detail to Legolas. There, sitting in the middle of the drowned gardens sat Merry, Pippin, Culas and Nemír, the four gathered around a fire that was built on a wall so as it was not put out by the water while they themselves perched on nearby boulders, eating breakfast.
"Stop moving!" exclaimed Nemír as the tread of the horses disturbed the water about them and threatened to put out the fire. "I do not want water on my tomatoes!"
"You're the one who is moving," fired back Culas. "And what do you mean your tomatoes?"
It was Merry who noticed the new arrivals and stood proudly on his boulder, swaying a little, pipe held a couple of inches from his mouth.
"Welcome, my Lords, to Isengard!" proclaimed the Hobbit enthusiastically, forgoing a bow when his foot slid slightly on the rock and decided it would not be such a good idea lest he wished to head up head first in the flood water.
"Meriadoc son of Saradoc is my name and my companion, who alas has prepared to early for your arrival, is Peregrin of the house of Took, at your service." Pippin, who until this point had been giggling like a drunk as Nemír and Culas continued to bicker, gave an undignified grunt as Merry nudged him in the side with his foot. "Here with us are Nemír and Culas from the north."
"Where is Saruman?" asked Gandalf, smiling at Merry's speech, the young hobbit sounding comically pompous as he carried out the introductions.
"The Lord Saruman is within the tower, and at the moment he is closeted with one Wormtongue, or doubtless he was would be here welcome such honourable guests," replied Merry in the same manner of speech.
"Doubtless he would," replied Gandalf with a small laugh. "And was it Saruman who ordered you to guard his damaged doors? When your attention could be spared from plate and bottle!"
"Our orders came from Treebeard," replied Merry proudly, not at all ashamed of the fact that he and his companions had been caught dealing out the spoils of the plunder. "Who has taken over management of Isengard."
"He commanded us to greet the Lords of Rohan with fitting words," said Pippin, having finally managed to control himself.
"And have you no greeting for your companions!" demanded Aragorn, leaning forward on Roheryn.
"Strider!" cried Pippin. Culas and Nemír were immediately on their feet dousing the fire with the subsequent splash. Aragorn inclined his head and smiled at the four.
"Gimli and Legolas as well!" exclaimed Merry, spotting the Elf and Dwarf. "And Dídauar!"
"You rascals! You woolly-footed and wool-pated truants!" exclaimed Gimli, unable to control himself any longer. "A fine hunt you've led us. Two-hundred leagues through fen and forest, battle and death!"
"And here we find you feasting and idling. And smoking!" exclaimed Legolas, continuing the Dwarf's rant.
"And where did you come by the weed, you villains?" exclaimed Gimli. Smoking without Gimli's knowledge or presence was a very serious matter and it would not go unnoticed by said Dwarf. "Hammer and tongs! I'm so torn between rage and joy, that if I do not burst it will be a marvel!"
"Will you two shut up?" asked Aragorn, swinging off Roheryn. No sooner had he hit the ground than Pippin threw himself at him. Laughing he swung him round like a child.
"You find us sitting on the field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts," said Merry as he too was gathered into Aragorn's embrace. Culas and Nemír had hurried over to Dídauar and together they dragged her from her horse's back and into a hug before repeating the action with Halbarad.
"The salted pork is particularly good," commented Pippin, turning back to Gimli.
"Salted pork?" demanded Gimli, all thought of the hobbits smoking without him driven from his mind at the thought of such a treat.
Pippin nodded at Gimli holding up a slightly damp chunk of meat and taking a bit, looking incredibly smug. Éomer, Théoden and their men laughed at the scene before them.
"So these are the lost ones of your company?" asked Éomer, glancing at Aragorn. The future King nodded.
"It is well that they were not found among the Uruk-Hai," said Éomer. "Such innocence is to precious to be destroyed."
"As wonderful as this reunion is, we must continue with our mission," interrupted Gandalf. "Merry, where is Treebeard? I must pay Saruman one final visit. It is dangerous and probably useless but must be done."
"Treebeard is away on the north side, I believe. He said something about getting a drink of water. Clean water," replied Merry.
"Very well. Remain here while I speak to him. I will return soon," said Gandalf and nudged Shadowfax into a trot and made his way across the wasteland that was once the lush gardens of Isengard.
"Anyone for breakfast?" asked Pippin looking around at the four dozen warriors. Aragorn laughed and suggested that the hobbit show the way.
Gandalf spent half an hour with Treebeard before returning to the company in which time, Merry and Pippin were partway through their story following their kidnapping by the Orcs of Saruman.
"Treebeard has agreed to move his people from Saruman's sight. Théoden, since Saruman has done you grave injury, it would be fitting if you were at my side as I confront him. Those others who wish to accompany me may do so, but beware!"
"What's the danger?" asked Pippin. "Will he shoot fire at us or can he put a spell on us from a distance?"
"The latter is more likely, especially if you ride to his door with a light heart," warned Gandalf. "A wild beast cornered is not safe to approach. He may have lost his armies but he is not yet powerless. Beware his voice!"
Most of the Rohirrim who had followed their King decided to remain at the gate, still fearing Saruman despite the fact that his land was in tatters and they had defeated his force. Most of the Dúnedain also remained behind though Halbarad followed as Dídauar determinedly rode forward. Pippin sat before Gandalf while Merry was placed behind Aragorn.
"Saruman! Come forth!" called Gandalf coming to a halt before the great door of Orthanc and repeated banging the structure with his staff when Treebeard was no longer visible. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Théoden, Dídauar and Halbarad had followed him up the steps, leaving Merry and Pippin with the horses. Nothing happened for a few minutes. "Saruman!"
"How is it?" called back a voice. The fact that the conversation was being held at a shout, the words drifted over to those who waited by the gate. Most of the Rohirrim stiffened when they heard the voice. "What is it you want?"
"I know that voice!" snarled Théoden. "And curse the day I first listened."
"Bring out Saruman, since you have become his footman, Grima Wormtongue," shouted back Gandalf.
"Why must you disturb my rest?" called a second voice, the owner sounding like he had been served a great injustice. "Will you give me no peace by night or day?" The faces of the company contorted in suppressed rage.
"Come," continued Saruman. "Two of you, at least, I know by name. Gandalf I know to well to hope that he seeks help or counsel here. But Théoden, Lord of Rohan, why have you not come before and as a friend? Despite the injuries that have been done to me, and in which, alas, the Men of Rohan have played some part; I would still wish to save you from the ruin that draws nigh. Indeed, I alone can aid you now."
Gimli shifted restlessly beside Legolas, fingering the blade of one of his tomahawks. "The words of this wizard stand on their heads!" he commented. "In the language of Orthanc, help mean ruin and saving means slaying, that is plain. But we do not come here to beg!"
"Peace!" commanded Saruman. "I do not speak to you Gólin's son. Small concern of yours are the problems of this land, but it was not by your own design that you became embroiled in them. Allow me to speak with the King of Rohan, my neighbour, and once my friend. You have fought many wars, and slain many men, Théoden King, and made peace afterwards."
"Lord, hear me!" begged Éomer as Théoden stood unable to speak. "Have you ridden forth from victory, only to be amazed by an old liar with honey on his forked tongue? So would the cornered fox say to the hounds. All he desires is to be free from his captivity."
Dídauar moved to stand directly in front of Théoden, breaking his eye contact with Saruman and gripped his upper arms. "My Lord, think of Théodred at the Westfold. Remember Háma at Helm's Deep. It is because of him that they do not stand in your guard now."
"But come, Éomer, son of Éomund," said Saruman. "You slay those who your King deems enemies and do not question why, be content with your lot in life. And you Dídauar, daughter of Arathorn, you do not think of the sons and fathers that you slay in name of the country that holds your current interest, do not suppose to demand that others do the same.
"My Lord of Rohan, am I to be called a murderer because the valiant have fallen in battle? Shall we not have peace, you and I? It is ours to command."
"We shall have peace," replied Théoden. Éomer and Dídauar stared him in disbelief while a few guards cheered. "We shall have peace, when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there! We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the Gate of the Hornburg are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows, we shall have peace."
"Gibbets and crows?" snarled Saruman. "Dotard! What is the House of Eorl but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and their brats roll on the floor with the dogs? Too long have you escaped the gibbet yourselves." Dídauar's grip on Théoden's arm increased and the King looked her concerned. The elder warrior was shaking in suppressed fury, her face an obvious mask of anger and hatred.
"The victory at Helm's Deep does not belong to you, Théoden Horse-master. You are a lesser son of greater sires."
"Saruman, your treachery has already cost many lives," Gandalf stated, before any of the Rohirrim or Dídauar could do anything rash. "Thousands more are now at risk. But you could save them. You were deep within the enemy's counsel–"
"So you have come here for information," jeered Saruman. "I have some for you." He rested his arms on the balcony rail before him. "Something festers in the heart of Middle-Earth. Something which you have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon. You are all going to die. But you know this, don't you, Gandalf?
"Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him. Those he professes to love," stated Saruman, turning to address the whole company. His tone was one of giving a warning that should be heeded for the good of one's health.
"Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling before you sent him to his doom?" hissed Saruman. "The path that you have set him on can only lead to death." By this time Saruman was gloating. Gandalf, though looking a little contrite at the mention of Frodo, who had received no words of comfort before he took his leave of the Fellowship and still believed the wizard to be dead, was not put off from his task.
"Come down Saruman, and your life will be spared. You can leave Orthanc free if that be your choice."
"And what do you mean by 'free'?" demanded Saruman. "When you have the Key of Orthanc I suppose. And the Keys of Barad-dûr itself along with the crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the Five Wizards!"
"When I say 'free', I mean free," replied Gandalf. "Free from bondage and command. And to go where you will, even to Mordor, if you desire. All I ask is that you return the Keys to Orthanc to their rightful owner."
"To the vagabonds that stands in your shadow," sneered Saruman and turned to leave. "I think not. Think out your deals with more care before approaching me again, Gandalf. Good day!"
"Saruman!" called Gandalf. Saruman spun back around on his heal, forced to stare down at Gandalf as the other wizard dealt out the punishment for his naivety and stupidity.
"Once you were white, then you styled yourself many coloured. You have become a fool Saruman. You have no colour now and I cast you from the order, and the council. Saruman, your staff is broken!" shouted Gandalf. The wooden rod that Saruman held in his hand shattered and the pieces fell to the floor at his feet. While Saruman gazed disbelievingly at his hands, Gandalf continued to speak.
"Saruman, you were deep in the enemy's counsel. Tell us what you know!"
"You withdraw your guard, do not think I no not that the Ents are hidden just beyond my sight, and I will tell you where your doom is to be decided!" fired back Saruman, still determined that things were going to go his way. "I will not be held prisoner here!"
"You held prisoner by nothing but your stubbornness. Now go!" yelled Gandalf, having lost his patience with the man. Saruman howled and backed away, Gandalf seeming to glow brightly as he spoke.
"Look out!" yelled someone behind the company as a black ball came hurtling out the window, landing with a crash on the stairs on which they stood before falling into the flood water with a splash and a dull thud, mere yards away from the group.
"The murderous rogue!" snarled Éomer making to move forward. Gandalf caught his arm.
"Saruman did not throw that ball. Nor did he instruct its departure from Orthanc," said the wizard calmly, his statement confirmed by the howl from within Orthanc itself. "A parting shot from Wormtongue I have no doubt. But ill aimed. Peregrin Took, give it to me." The youngest Hobbit had slid from Shadowfax and gathered the object up from the water and was now labouring up the steps with his new burden. Pippin grudgingly handed over the object, Gandalf quickly bundling it up and hiding it from all sight.
"Let us get beyond a stones throw at least!" stated Gimli, already turning around. "One ill-aimed shot does not mean others are, and he may have other things to throw at us."
"No, we are forgotten, for the moment. But this is not a place to linger whether we are targets or not," said Gandalf, carefully securing the orb and ensuring it was kept out of Pippin's reach.