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Chapter 6: Into the Nameless Land
The shallow steps near the Tower of Cirith Ungol were the last things we reached before the pass came to an apex. After that, it sloped downward and narrowed until it was little more than a rut amongst the rocks and crags. Just a few yards further it wound slightly to the right and disappeared for a short period among the rocky cliffs of the Mountains of Shadow. And below us, we beheld at last the land of Mordor, more bitter and barren than any desert, laden with ash and smoke, and overrun with Orcs beyond all fathomable numbers. Beyond was the terrifying red, lidless Eye, wreathed in flame, formidable to behold. Slightly West of it stood Mount Doom; it was almost as high as the mountain on which we stood, and loomed over the plateau below.
"Now this is where the dilemma faces us, Sam. It does not help that I do not know the details of this land. Only strongholds and landforms very near the Western and Northern borders are known. But here we have the best view of the land around us. North and still East is your Mountain. It seems like we have two good main options of reaching it. This road goes to it directly, if it is straight. That would be the quicker route, but it is likely that Orcs would spot us far before we reached the Mountain. The longer, more discreet route runs along the sides of the Mountains of Shadow, which look difficult to navigate, but are not impassable. I shall be able to guide you – and Frodo when he wakes up – through them without a problem. From there, we can cut due East, or as nearly as we can to it without being discovered, to your Mountain."
"That's an awful lot to take in. But I'm not for the idea of sticking close to an Orc road! It seems we must take the longer route, so that we can avoid danger, as we have often had to do on this journey," he sighed.
"Let us go, then, and find somewhere where we may spend the night. My body grows weary as if it were sundown, though there is no Sun to tell the hour in these dark lands."
As subtly as we could, we turned left and north, carefully descending the perilous slopes of the Ephel Dúath with as much haste as possible. It was not a task that I would deem particularly easy. The rocks were steep and jagged and required some navigation and slight detours in our path. Some were treacherous, causing us to stumble though we had sturdy Hobbit feet.
In one place, I, who was leading, heard the sound of a loose rock slipping. Turning around, I saw that it had come from underneath Sam's foot. He began to slip, and it was hard for him to regain his balance while trying to keep Frodo safe in his arms. I rushed back a few paces just as he started sliding, and placed my foot securely on the ground, askew to his. His weight shifted backwards, and before he fell completely, I was able to slip a supportive arm across his back. With my other free hand, I grasped Sam's right arm, which had been supporting Frodo's head from potential damage or injury, to help him get up. Then he rose fully, with Frodo still held securely in his grasp, and as he looked at me slowly, I caught a definite glimpse of gratitude in his eyes, though he appeared also as if he were surprised. I retuned the glance with a smile, glad to see that he was, albeit slowly, regaining some faith in me.
Neither of us had a chance to speak, however, before we saw the bundle in Sam's arms shake with a sudden jolt. Then Sam and I started nearly as much, from surprise and eagerness. At last, Frodo was awake!
"Master!" Sam cried at once, and he sat hastily back on the ground. "Dear Master!"
I rushed to Sam's side, and we both started undoing the cords that bound Frodo. I freed him of his cloak and cast it aside. Frodo lied there for a moment in shock, but he had certainly come back to consciousness. His face was not as deathly pale, and he made a few voluntary arm motions; his eyes blinked again and he was trembling, as out of fear. Finally, he caught sight of us. I thought he would jump for joy and move to embrace Sam, though I fully expected him to shun me. Strangely, he fingered a spot by his lower neck, and then his left hand moved to his waist as if to draw a sword. When he discovered that this was absent, he became quite frantic, and backed away, as if uncertain what to do. But Sam caught him and clasped a hand on his shoulder. "Master! It's me, your Sam! Don't you know me?"
"Oh, Sam! Never have I been so relieved to hear you speak. But the Orc helm deceived me at first, and I knew not what to think." And he moved to embrace his friend, as I thought he would, and the eyes of both grew moist with joy. When they withdrew, Sam spoke first.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo. I had to take it. The Ring, I mean. I saw you looking for it. I promised it was only for safekeeping." He slowly removed the chain from his neck, and held the Ring in his hand. "I almost hate to give it back to you, Mr. Frodo, being that it's such a burden."
Frodo snarled and grew hot with rage, and a look of fury, the likeness of which I never expected to see in his innocent features, made its way across his face. "You will give it to me!" And he snatched the Ring from where it hung on the chain in Sam's hand, reeling back a few steps. Then his features reverted and he heaved a deep sigh, placing the chain around his neck once again. At once, it visibly weighed him down; he bowed his back as if he had been toiling hard all day.
"I am sorry, Sam. I know you meant well. Instead, I ought to have thanked you for all that you have done for me. But where are we now? Not in the very Nameless Land itself! How did we come to be here? My memory fails me after we emerged from the tunnel."
"Ah, that makes for a long story," replied Sam. "We've gone far enough for today. Why don't we go a little further and find a place to rest and eat? Then you shall hear all about it."
"Let us be off, then!" Frodo answered.
"Wait a moment, if you please," I spoke up for the first time since the two old friends were reconciled. Frodo looked over at me with shock on his face, and I felt my own face grow red with shame, but I continued. "Sam, shall we allow him time to don the Orc gear now, or is it best to be done later?"
"The Orc gear! Bless me, I'd completely forgot about it," Sam said, at the same time that Frodo looked at me and exclaimed, "What, Tallah! You've returned!" though I could not tell whether it was with repulsion or glee. Then so much ran through my mind that I wanted to say to Frodo, but before I had even decided what I was to start with, I found that Frodo had thrown his arms around me in a quick embrace, which I gladly reciprocated.
"Yes, I returned, though I regret now that I departed to start with. Too late did I realize what a great burden you had to bear. I am sorry, Frodo, utterly sorry."
During this brief period, Sam had not been idle. He had removed from his pack the Orc-mail we had chosen for Frodo's disguise, and Frodo took and donned it. I removed from my pack the high and heavy Orc helm, and Frodo took it and set it on his head. Last, I gave to him the Orc-sword, which hung in its sheath from my side; Sam, with Frodo's consent, kept charge of Sting. When he was finished, Frodo looked every bit of the Orc that should be roaming these lands, even if he was too short of stature and too fair of face; the Orc helm concealed much of the latter shortcoming.
At last, we were moving again. After a few minutes, we came to a well-concealed ridge. The wall of the mountains still loomed up on our left, tall and hard and black as ash. To out right, still more rocks rose up to form a sort of short cleft. A glance above this showed the land that lied below, but not as far beneath as it had been when Sam and I left the shadow of the Tower. It was here that we decided to spend our night. We ate and drank what we could, from the provisions stored in Sam's pack and in mine.
"I am sorry that we had to leave yours, Mr. Frodo. But you were the more important burden to bear. I could not take both. I did manage to get most of the food you had in with mine, and the extra water-skin. Strikes me as we'll need it here where water is most vital but scarce."
After our small and quite unsubstantial meal, if it could be named as such, our trio sat and reclined as comfortably as it might.
"Now that we are at our leisure for the moment, I should like to hear the whole of your story," said Frodo. "Yes, the whole, as long as that may take, for I am quite curious. I do not wish for you to leave out one single detail."
"And I, too, know little of your journey to the point where I returned to find Frodo lying on the ground apparently dead," said I. "Would that I had not done such a foolish thing, and that way also I would not need to hear anything more! But, alas! It is done. Come, Sam, and Frodo, if you like, and tell me all of what came to pass in that dreaded tunnel."
So, Frodo started telling of how, once I left, he and Sam came to the Stairs of Cirith Ungol, and how they mounted first the steep flight, and then the long, winding one; and how, even as they reached the last step, they beheld the tunnel and entered it. Then all became dark, blacker than any night, and they used what Frodo called the Phial of Galadriel to navigate through. And as Sam held up the glass of light, a huge beast in the likeness of a spider, both awful and awesome, and of a foul stench beyond reckoning, appeared in front of them. But as the creature, which was accustomed to the dark of its tunnel, gazed at the ever-brightening light, it cowered in fear, and retreated backwards into some unseen recess. Frodo and Sam continued then, quickly as possible so as to escape once more into the open air, however unfriendly the surrounding territories may be. As they came to the end of the tunnel, dense cords stretched form end to end of the only visible exit, blocking it. Frodo took up Sting, and it viciously cut them all down, like a hot knife through butter, till they were all but mere string, as the type with which a child plays. And Frodo, seeing the way was clear, gave cries of joy as he rushed forth from the tunnel, with Sam ahead of him.
"But then, a strange feeling overcame me. It felt as if something came from behind and struck me beneath my neck. I fell to the ground while blackness overtook me, and I knew no more." Frodo sighed as he ended his narration, looking over at Sam with a most expectant look in his eyes.
Sam continued the tale. "I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo, that I did not see it coming till it was too late. I turned round to see you behind me, and that most dreadful thing behind you. I tried to shout to you, but it seems that you didn't hear me, and it was too late. It had already bitten you. By the time I ran over, it had already bound you with its silk, hand and foot and everything else in between. So I took up the Lady's glass, which frightened the Beast a little but did not force it back. I brandished Sting against it, but even a slash to the underbelly did not daunt it. It took a stab to the creature's eye and the brightest light that the Glass would yield. Then at last it retreated. I didn't see it again.
"Then I rushed back to you, Master, and I freed your face of the spider's cords. I looked at you, and I thought you were dead, so I wept openly and stayed by your side a long time, wondering what to do. And then Tallah showed up." Sam broke off his part of the tale and nodded to me. And I told all there was to tell about my hesitation on Morgul road, and how I ultimately turned about with a repented heart. Then I spoke of how I came to and through the tunnel and joined Sam once again, and of everything that transpired after that, to the juncture when Frodo awoke. And Frodo, having heard all that I had to say, chuckled softly and reflectively to himself.
"Now that explains all. But above everything else, I enjoyed the account of your escape from those Orcs. I daresay that was mightily clever of you, Tallah." He lowered his voice a few tones: "Morgul rats, you call us?" And he laughed once more.
"Frodo," I addressed him, my face and voice reflecting all somberness of the impending subject, even if the latter trembled slightly.
He looked at me with the same sort of expression, and I found that, when we made mutual eye contact, the guilt of my former blunder rendered me speechless, though I had seemingly endless words I had desired to speak. A few moments it took for me to properly compose myself and say on as I wished. "As I have already expressed to Sam, I am utterly dismayed that I abandoned you. I do not know why I did it – I was afraid. It was a foolish act if ever there was one. I would ask you to forgive me, but in reality, I cannot expect it. But I have turned back to aid you, and will not so much as glance over my shoulder to face West towards my City till this quest is complete. I promise that much, and more if need be – whatever it takes to help you in any way I can. You have my word, as little as it may mean to you now." And I outstretched my hand towards him. He looked at it for a moment, sentiments of surprise obvious on his face; then he firmly clasped it and shook. It is possible that I imagined it, but I fathomed that something passed between us, perhaps a sense of understanding.
Amazingly, Frodo did not move to release my hand; rather, he placed his other hand over it. "Whether you expect it or no, I do forgive you, good Tallah. Yes, I say 'good' and you should not wonder. It was because of fear and misunderstanding that you left, and because of a good heart that you returned. Now the past is behind us, and as we say in the Shire, we may forgive and forget." Only as he finished speaking did he loose his hold on my hand.
"Words truly cannot express my gratitude, Frodo. But the misunderstanding of which you speak is entirely gone on my part. I believe I do now understand the better the ultimate goal of your mission, and even have I sworn oath to uphold it. We of Minas Tirith are people of our word. If I fail to fulfill what I have promised, I shall be punished, even to the point of death."
"Though for your hesitation on the Morgul Road, I cannot say I do not admire you, Tallah. I would not expect as much of you or Sam or anyone else to come to the fires to which I go, but both of my companions are quite insistent otherwise. So shall it be."
Then there was a silence, though a comfortable one, for each was at peace in mind. At last, I spoke though often I am disinclined to do so. "Let us talk, while we have the time and chance, of your journey to the point where I met you. I have a special curiosity for this Lórien that you mention, if I name it rightly."
Frodo shook his head. "The tale of our journey from start to Minas Tirith would fill pages and would take countless days to tell. Some other time, if we have extreme leisure, we will recount the whole to you. But if you would like, we may at least tell you of Lórien, the land in which we took refuge after Gandalf's fall in Moria." And, having said this, he kept silent and looked sorrowful for a moment. I recalled that this Gandalf was the one called Mithrandir, and that he had been a great friend of the Hobbits.
But Sam spoke up, though he had been mostly silent to this point, and his eyes brightened with some untold glee, despite Frodo's remark. "Lórien! It is really a fine land, a merry land, and at the same time, mighty and mysterious as the sea. Going there kind of makes you just forget all your troubles. I feel like I can't describe it to you, not well enough to do it justice in the least. It ought to be sung. When you're in that land, it seems like everything is part of a beautiful yet melancholy song, and you feel like you're in the song, if you follow my meaning. And the Lady Galadriel is the finest part of that song. Galadriel! She is powerful and distant and mighty, yet filled with such an unrivaled kindness. But I can't truly describe her either, and I'm not one for making much song. You'd have to get Aragorn or old Mr. Bilbo to do that. Ah, Lórien!"
Sam sighed, stretching his tired limbs. His gaze became distant as if, even now, he were in that fine, far away land. He lied down, curling upon the rocky ground, and as though it were covered in tender grass and fair wildflowers, was sleeping soundly shortly thereafter. I turned to Frodo. The talk of Lórien had the same sort of tranquilizing effects on him; he sighed distantly and nodded off, still propped against a sharp boulder.
"Well, that shall decide it reasonably enough," I said to myself. "I shall have first watch tonight." And as I sat up, I wondered about the land of Lórien, and pictured in my mind what it ought to look like, though I was certain that my mental image of it was far less fair than the reality. I started to wish that, rather than roaming the wild Northern lands, I had sojourned sooner southwards and seen beautiful Lórien of which Sam and Frodo spoke so fondly. But in my mind I knew that, even if I had reached its borders, a poor wayfarer such as I had no place among High Elves of that secluded and mysterious territory.
Long hours passed as I sat wrapped in my musings, wondering what indeed Lórien was like, until Sam, who had been sleeping quite soundly, woke with a sudden start and rose to his full height.
"Bless me! Sam, you ninnyhammer," he exclaimed to himself. "I didn't intend to fall asleep at all, let alone for so long. Thought of Lórien does that to you."
"Do not worry, Samwise," I called out to him. "Faithfully and constantly I have kept first watch."
He sat back on the ground, less worried now that I had assured him. "That's fine. Many a thanks to you; I shall take the second watch." He paused momentarily, and then, slowly, he exchanged positions with me and took his post. Then he looked at Frodo, who was now curled on his side sleeping soundly as a babe, the epitome of a peaceful picture. "I love him," Sam mused aloud. "It would be cruel to wake him in this state, as he is. He needs rest enough so that he can go on tomorrow. It's starting to weigh him down, and he thinks I don't see it, but I do. It's such a burden to bear – such a burden."
I nodded my agreement. The fact that the Ring was a sore trial to him had not remained unknown to me; in actuality, the more we moved on, the more I began to note how he walked with bowed back, clutching the Ring, but visibly resisting voicing his pain aloud. As I looked at him, I came to a profound realization. "I love him as you do, Sam. I know he is suffering, even if I don't know how much. Long have I admired his longsuffering in bearing the Ring and successfully resisting its evil. I will do all that is within my power to help him. Wake me whenever you may tire, and I shall take third watch in Frodo's stead."
Sam apparently did not know how to react. He opened his mouth as if to speak, and realizing he was unsure of what would be best to say, turned immediately red as a ripe tomato in the face, still fumbling for words. "Well, that's awfully kind of you, really, magnificently kind. Besides the Lady Galadriel, and dear Rosie Cotton back home, I think you may be the kindest lass I have ever met, if you don't mind my sayin' so. I'll do that then. I'll wake you in a few hours, though not too few, I should hope."
I laughed merrily, joyful and relieved that my offer had gotten such a reaction out of Sam, though I did not in the least expect it and certainly could not have predicted it. I lied down among Mordor's inhospitable rocks, and thought the environment was far from conducive to sleep, I soon dozed off into a sound slumber, for I was much wearied by the long day's journey.