Chapter 17 - The Attack on Dol Guldur
Lothlorian TA 2941, Midsummer
When the entire White Council was assembled, Saruman rose to speak. "Sauron is searching the Gladden Fields. He must have learned of Isildur's end." There was immediate and unanimous agreement about what they should do. Drive him from Dol Guldur.
Glorfindel, Elrond, and Círdan each offered their assistance. But Gandalf turned them down. "I'm afraid the Elves won't be able to help us. Saruman, Radagast, and I will have to do it alone." Gandalf said. His face was pale.
Círdan pulled the red-stoned Elven ring from his finger and gave it to Gandalf.[1] "The Elves can help you. Both with this, and by standing beside you when we attack." he said.
Saruman was furious. He couldn't believe Círdan gave his ring to Gandalf instead of himself, the Head of the Council, not to mention the expert in Ringlore best able to use it.
"There are three Istari getting ready to storm the fortress of Sauron, and three Elven rings. Círdan, thank you for lending yours to Gandalf, because he will need every bit of help for this dangerous mission, as will Radagast and I."
He waited for Elrond and Galadriel to offer their rings to Radagast and himself. Saruman looked at Galadriel, then Elrond. They looked away.
There was an awkward silence.
Finally Galadriel spoke. "Círdan, you endangered Lindon by giving your ring to Gandalf. That was irresponsible of you."
She went on to say that the Elven rings were created to slow the decay of beautiful places. The Three are the source of vitality to Lindon, Imladris, and Lothlorien. They don't increase personal power or strength in battle, and wouldn't help anyone to storm a citadel. Saruman couldn't believe Elrond and Galadriel could be that selfish.
As they got up to leave, Gandalf's manner toward Saruman was chilly. "Last time we met, you wouldn't let me use force against him. This time, you're my strongest supporter. What changed?" said Gandalf.
"Sauron is searching. He's getting way too close. We have to stop him before he finds it." said Saruman.
"Or perhaps you don't want him to find it before you do."
"None of us want him to find it first." said Saruman evenly.
"A word of advice. Don't plan on using it yourself." Gandalf said coldly.
As sincerely as possible, Saruman told Gandalf, "I'm only trying to find the Ring. I'm not planning to use it."
-o-o-o-o-o-
"I don't like spiders." said Glorfindel, pulling strands of white silk off his face.
"Then you shouldn't have come." said Saruman.
As head of the White Council, it was Saruman's place to lead the assault on Dol Guldur. He rode at the front of the column with the rest of the White Council followed him: Galadriel and Celeborn, Círdan the Shipwright, Elrond and his sons, Glorfindel, Thranduil, and the wizards Gandalf and Radagast. They rode along the narrow path in single file, grim-faced and heavily armed.
Mirkwood was full of spiders, but there were more of them than normal in the forest around Dol Guldur. Webs stretched between the tree trunks, some of them large enough to snare a man on horseback.
Saruman drew his sword and hacked at a web blocking their way. The blade started to slice through the grey-white sheet but got caught in the filmy veil. He twisted it free with difficulty and tried to wipe the sticky substance off the blade
It wasn't just the spiders; evil things seemed to be drawn by the Necromancer's presence. Beside the path, thorn bushes grew in thick clumps, poisonous plants and mushrooms growing beneath them. The earth was damp underfoot; and the smell of mold filled the still air.
The path began to climb as they approached Amon Lanc the bald hill, a spur of bare rock that towered above the highest trees in Mirkwood. They came around a bend, and through a break in the trees had their first look at the fortress. It sat on the rocky summit like a broken crown, its roofs and pinnacles like spines. It was wreathed by a dark fog that seemed to be renewed as quickly as the wind blew it away.
Glorfindel broke the silence. "We don't really know who the Necromancer is, but I expect it's one of the Nazgûl. After all, Sauron fell almost three thousand years ago, and hasn't been seen since."
"I went into Dol Guldur and I saw him. The Necromancer is Sauron." said Gandalf.
"Would you have recognized him if you saw him? You said you barely knew him." said Glorfindel.
Gandalf had been here before; he said the road to Dol Guldur passed through a cluster of crudely-made stone cottages, populated almost entirely by orcs. The White Council would have to ride through a nest of them to reach the fortress.
Radagast sent a flock of crows to the Bald Hill. They flew over the curtain walls and circled the towers, cawing loudly, then whirled around and returned. Radagast held out his arm and a crow landed on it. He tilted his head toward the huge bird, listening. A second crow landed on him, and more settled on tree branches nearby. Radagast listened to them for a few minutes, and his eyes widened.
"They say the fortress is full of orcs, in mail or leather and metal armor, armed with scimitars and pikes. The tops of the walls are crowded with orc archers, and the main gate is closed." said Radagast.
"They're expecting us. I wonder how they knew," said Saruman.
They pressed on. The narrow path threaded between tree trunks, almost all of them white with webs. Even though it was dawn, no birds sang. Their horses' hooves rang clopped against the damp earth, unnaturally loud in the stillness.
As they approached the village, they bunched their horses closer together and drew their weapons. Few were about at this hour. They passed a tavern, The Spider's Fang, where an orc stood in the doorway was sweeping the front step. She looked up at them and froze, her mouth open with surprise.
Beyond the village, the path climbed up the bare rock. They left the trees entirely; there wasn't a tree or shrub to shield them from view as they approached the Necromancer's stronghold. The hooves of their horses rang against the stones underfoot; there was no other sound except the wind.
The sky was clear down in the village, but up here, a black cloud over the fortress, dark and menacing; it thickened as they watched.
The air was wet, and it smelled unhealthy, like mildew or stagnant water. Saruman noticed that the stonework of the fortress, darker than the rock it sat on, was coated in mold. In places, hunks of it had come loose from the walls and hung like garlands.
Saruman looked at the top of the walls and saw archers on the walls, bows raised and arrows notched. He summoned up a violent wind, which whipped his hair and clothing and swept away the arrows the archers released.
Gandalf moved to the front. He raised his arm, spurred his horse, and let the charge toward the fortress gates. Saruman galloped after him, so did all the others. They fanned out in a line and rode twelve abreast, packed so close that Círdan's foot struck Saruman's and knocked it loose from the stirrup, but he had bigger things to worry about and let it swing loose, unheeded.
A bell tolled, and Saruman heard the metallic clink-clink-clink of a ratchet lifting the drawbridge. Saruman spurred his horse to greater speed, but the drawbridge was already halfway up by the time they reached it. Saruman sang a spell in his mother tongue, and one of the chain's huge links ruptured with a pop. When the other chain failed, the drawbridge struck the earth so hard the boards splintered.
Saruman summoned a thunderstorm and called down bolt after bolt of lightning. The thunderclaps, right overhead, were deafening. Lightning struck one of the highest towers, knocking a block of stone loose. Saruman watched it fall until it disappeared from view behind the wall. He heard an enormous crash, and someone inside yelped.
The drawbridge had collapsed, but the gates were still closed and barred. Gandalf spoke the words of a spell and Saruman heard a low throbbing tone, more pressure than sound. His ears popped, and he felt a vibration in his body.
The gates bowed inward like the sides of a ship that struck a rock. The thick timbers began to split, and one of them gave way with a snap, leaving a hole wide enough for a man to squeeze through if he turned sideways.
Saruman looked through the hole into the courtyard, which was filled with orcs, armed and highly agitated. Gandalf sent a concussive blast through the space through the boards and raised his arm, the signal to storm the fortress. Saruman and the others followed him through the gap.
The Istari hit the orcs with everything they had, spells that knocked them off their feet, spells that caused confusion, spells that cramped the gut and dropped them to their knees, retching. Celeborn leaned over an orc curled up on the ground, clutching his midsection in agony.
"Where is your Master?" Celeborn demanded.
"They're gone. They rode out the back gate just as you came in the front."
Saruman noticed a postern gate across the courtyard from the main entry, wide enough for a single man on horseback, but no more.
"Shall we give chase?" said Glorfindel.
"No, let them go. We came here to drive him out, and we did that." said Saruman.
The orcs were going to be knocked out for a while. Glorfindel stayed behind to administer incapacitating spells as needed, and the rest of them fanned out to search the fortress.
"I'm going to search the Keep." said Saruman.
"Don't go alone. You don't know what's waiting for you in there. Elladan and Elrohir, go with him," said Elrond.
The Keep was easy to spot; it was the strongest and most massive structure in the fortress. Built on the peak of Amon Lank, it was also the tallest. The Keep was the bolt hole of last resort, the place the defenders would fall back to in times of desperation.
The three of them hiked up the steep courtyard to reach the Keep, in the furthest corner of the fortress, where the side wall met the back. There were other structures built against it, one large enough to be a Great Hall, but they were dwarfed by the massive tower, its square sides featureless save for arrow slits.
Saruman saw was a low, narrow door with a high sill leading into the Keep. The door stood wide open.
"Stay alert, and keep your weapons drawn." said Saruman.
Elrond's sons unsheathed their long, flexible swords.
Saruman ducked through the door and unfolded himself on the other side, in a narrow tunnel through the thickness of the wall. Elladan and Elrohir followed.
At the other end of the tunnel, they found themselves in a large, windowless chamber. It appeared to be a guard room; racks against the wall held scimitars and pikes, there were bunks for a dozen soldiers against the far wall, and a long table in the middle of the room held pewter plates and tankards.
In the far corner of the room, a ladder poked through a trap door. Saruman took one of the burning rushes from its iron wall bracket and looked down into the hole: barrels, sacks, crates, and a well, a storage room.
He didn't see a way to reach the floors above, but on the way out, he saw what he missed before, an alcove in the side of the tunnel that contained a spiral stair built into the thickness of the wall. Elladan ran up the stairs with Elrohir on his heels, and Saruman followed.
On the next level, they found the officers' quarters. The room had whitewashed walls, arrowslit windows, and a small fireplace. There was a bedstead against one wall and two more against another.
They went up another level. At the next landing, the door to the room, its heavy timbers bound in iron, was closed. Saruman was going to break the lock, but the ironwork latch, shaped like a wolf's head, lifted at his touch.
Inside, they found a room lined with books. Several substantial chairs with arms were arranged near a large fireplace; there were tapestries on the walls and a richly colored rug on the floor. The walls were thinner up here, and the arrowslits were flanked by window seats built into the walls; an open book and a silver goblet were sitting on one of the stone seats. Apparently, the upper floors of the Keep, housed the living quarters of the nobility.
There was a table in the center of the room; on it, they saw a small casket on its side, its lid open. A thin gold coin was stuck in a crack between the box's side and bottom. A few coins were scattered on the table, and more of them lay on the floor.
"It looks like they dumped their gold on the table and shoveled handfuls of coins into pouches and pockets as fast as they could." said Elladan.
Or at least he assumed it was Elladan. Elrond's sons were twins; Saruman had never been able to tell them apart.
"And didn't have time to pick up the ones that fell to the floor. I've never been in that much of a hurry my whole life." said Elrohir.
"It looks like we surprised them; they couldn't get out of here fast enough." said Saruman.
The spiral stair went up another level. The door was standing open; from the hall, Saruman could see a stone fireplace and a miniature chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the candle holders shaped like the heads of dragons. A window looking out onto the courtyard was flanked by window seats.
Saruman stepped in the room with Elladan and Elrohir following him. The room was whitewashed and clean, but sparsely furnished with a table and chair and a simple bedstead covered with a wool blanket. Everything was neat and in good order, save where someone had rifled a clothes chest and dumped most of its contents on the floor.
"It looks like someone threw on traveling clothes in a hurry." said Elladan.
A nobleman's clothing lay discarded on the bed. The shirt and tunic had been stripped off together, leaving the inside-out shirt wrapped around the tunic. Saruman touched the shirt with the back of his hand. It was still warm.
"He would have packed a change of clothes, too, if he'd had time." said Elrohir.
An empty satchel lay at the foot of the bed, waiting to be packed. A stack of clothes, neatly folded, sat beside it. He saw woolen hose, a homespun shirt, and a leather gherkin, the clothes of a highwayman or ranger, not a nobleman.
Beside the clothes was a map. Saruman picked it up and unfolded it. No route was marked, but it showed all the roads between Dol Guldur and Minas Morgul, the Fortress of the Witch King. If Sauron had bolted from here, Minas Morgul was the most likely place he would go.
"There's one more level, should we keep looking?" said Elrohir, pointing to a ladder on the landing that led to the next level.
"No, I saw a spider web across the ladder. It hasn't been used in a while," said Saruman.
They went down three flights of steps and exited the Keep through the tunnel, and found Gandalf in the courtyard.
"The last time I was here, I found the ashes of burned papers everywhere I looked. But today, it appears they didn't have time to burn anything." said Gandalf. He would have said more, but Glorfindel came running over.
"I want you to see something." he said.
Saruman and the others followed him to the stables.
"What do you see?" asked Glorfindel.
When his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Saruman counted eight stalls. There were horses in five of them. Most were dark brown or bay, colors favored by the Nazgûl. Looking around, he saw saddles, bridles on pegs, and a chest for grain. The usual number of barn cats wandered around.
"Only three horses are missing." said Glorfindel.
Saruman looked again. Glorfindel was right; three of the stalls were empty, their gates standing open.
"The way I remember the story, when Gandalf came here secretly, he saw three robed figures standing in front of a table, the three Nazgûl missing from Minas Morgul. Then he saw what might have been the edge of a sleeve. He concluded there was a fourth person sitting at the table, blocked from view by the others; Gandalf believed it was Sauron." said Glorfindel.
"But they only took three horses when they fled the fortress. That implies there were three Nazgûl here, not three Nazgûl and Sauron. Gandalf was wrong." said Celeborn.
Saruman thought of the discarded clothing in the bedroom upstairs, still warm to the touch. It occurred to him that Nazgûl, like all of the undead, are cold-blooded.
"Gandalf wasn't wrong." said Saruman.
[1] Círdan gave Gandalf his ring on the ship from Valinor to the Grey Havens, in TA 1050. I deviated from Canon in order to tempt Saruman with a ring, and then snatch it away.