Note: ...Because no Middle Earth fic is complete without a giant spider!
Incunabulum 19: Not the Best Exit
Etwol ran a red light, nearly got knocked down by a mumakil, and scampered on while the group of uruks chasing him shouted and cursed, help up by the impeding traffic. He could see up ahead and growing steadily closer the dark slopes of the Ephal Duath.
Mordor was truly a trap from which there were only a few exits. Etwol had no hopes of escaping through the Black Gate, and the Morgul Vale was guarded by the Witch King's city. He was making for the pass of Cirith Ungol, because it was a little-used route and Etwol hoped that the guards there would not yet have gotten the order not to let a runaway orc through.
Etwol was a fast runner—faster than most orcs. He had left his pursuers far behind by the time he passed the tower of Cirith Ungol guarding the dark chasm which ran through the mountains. At the mouth of the chasm was a toll booth and barrier manned by a sleepy-looking orc.
"Where's your pass?" he asked Etwol. "All orcs leaving Mordor must show their pass."
"I ain't got one," said Etwol. "I'm carrying a message to—to…Osgiliaf. Yeh. So let me frew as it's important."
"I'm not supposed to let anyone frew wivout a pass," said the orc. "Let me ask them up at the tower and see what they say."
He was several minutes on the telephone and Etwol waited impatiently, knowing his pursuers would soon show up.
"All right," said the orc, hanging up the telephone. "They say to go up to the tower and they'll see about getting you a pass. It might take awhile, though, because they'll have to send a call frew to Barad-dur."
Etwol retraced his steps to the dark tower of Cirith Ungol. Now that he was actually in mortal danger all his suicidal urges had evaporated and he wanted very much to live for a while yet—and now it was looking very much like he was not going to do so. He had very little hope left, but orcs never give up before they have to. He passed through the gate and pummelled a small orc until he told him where the captain in charge was.
As Etwol climbed the stairs to an upper room he heard angry voices above, engaged in a fierce conversation.
"All I know is that he's got to be found and that it's your look-out."
"And I tell you I could take fifty orcs down there and still never find him. It's too dark and we'd all get eaten."
"What if it's dark? Who cares about the dark?"
"Nobody, but if you've got to find somefing, it helps to have more than your nose and fingertips to go by. Especially down there where you could find a dozen orcs strung up and not one the one you're looking for."
"Well, it's your job, isn't it?"
"That's what I don't like about it. They always give us the nasty jobs—as if watching the pass weren't bad enough. We lose enough of our people on ordinary duty wivout these extra assignments on top of it. Why don't they send up some orcs from the plain to do it, if the message is so important as all that?"
"Shut up, slug, and obey orders. Or I'll report you."
Etwol had by now reached the room and saw the speakers—two uruks, one of which appeared to be the captain of the tower. For a moment he hesitated in the doorway, thinking perhaps they were speaking about him, but on catching sight of him the uruk captain sprang forward and dragged him into the room by one ear.
"Where'd you come from?" said the captain. "What are you doing here? Oh, you're the one what wanted a pass, weren't you? I've no time for that. The message will have to wait."
"It can't," gasped Etwol, trying to pull his ear from the uruk's grasp. "It's terribly important."
"Too bad," said the captain. "Want to know what happened to the last chap to try bringing a message frew the pass? He's dangling down in Shelob's lair somewhere. You wouldn't get frew either. Try the Morgul Vale."
"Wait," said the other uruk. "Why not send him down?"
"What good would that do?" said the captain. "He can't do anyfing on his own."
"He might be able to find him, and if he gets eaten, it won't matter."
"Yes, it will. His message won't get frew, maggot!"
"I mean it won't matter to us."
The two uruks looked Etwol over slowly.
"You want to go down in Shelob's lair and rescue a runner, shrimp?" asked the captain.
Etwol rather didn't, but he had just glimpsed through the window a bevy of orcs arrive at the tollbooth and start questioning the orc manning it.
"Yes," he said. "I can find him for you, all right."
"And no funny business, now," said the captain. "Or you'll wish you'd never been born. We'll go wiv you down to the mouf of her lair."
They had descended to the basement of the tower and through a large brass gate leading to subterranean passages, and now, at the end of one of these passages, they had reached a low barrier. Beyond it lay the labyrinthine underground tunnels haunted by the giant spider. Etwol stared into the blackness and grasped his hammer more tightly. It was glowing, but this darkness was of the sort that no light could get through easily.
"Well, get a move on," said the captain, giving him a shove.
Etwol stepped forward and felt his way down the passage. As an elf he would have been completely disgusted, but being an orc the nasty strands of spider silk and blobby forms of little creatures caught therein did not faze him much. He carried his orc sword and a knife and his glowing hammer, but he had given his armour to Elvisir. That had helped him when it came to running, but he was wishing he had it back now.
He had gone maybe twenty yards down the passage when he stopped and looked back towards the dim spot of light where the two uruks stood waiting with a lantern. He was not fond of these particular uruks but he wanted company.
"Hey," he said. "Ain't you coming to make sure I don't try to escape?"
"You won't escape out that way," said the captain.
There was a scuffling sound farther down the passage and the two uruks turned and fled precipitately. For an instant Etwol meditated following them, but then he remembered that the Eye was looking for him up there. At least down here it couldn't see him.
He could hear the scuffling growing closer and thought for a moment that he would have no choice but to go back the way he had come, but moving to the side of the passage he found a small opening and squeezed himself through.
He was in another low passage and the scuffling sounds on the farther side of the rock wall had stopped as if in perplexity. Etwol turned and scrambled down the dark tunnel and then up another and another until he had lost all sense of where he was. At times he thought he could hear the scuffling sounds in pursuit, but he blundered on through the darkness, hoping he was not heading for a dead end where he would be trapped.
"If ever I get out of here," he thought, "I'll never mind the sun again."
At last he stumbled through a nasty web stretched across the tunnel and found himself in what appeared to be Shelob's larder. Long white bundles hung here and there from the ceiling, and one of them was wriggling. Etwol stepped towards it and suddenly felt himself pinched from behind.
He shrieked and kicked backwards. The kick upset his equilibrium and he sprawled on the ground, rolling this way and that as something very large pinched him mercilessly all over. Etwol could see dimly through the murkiness the large jaws, long, hairy legs, and numerous beady eyes of the giant arachnid. In a flash he kicked himself back along the floor, leaped up, and slashed at a dangling bundle.
He had hoped to cut it down on the head of Shelob, rendering her unconscious, but his sword stuck in the silk and sprang back at him, knocking him over. He hit his head on the floor and lay stunned and half-unconscious for a moment. Shelob gave him one last disgusted pinch and scuttered backwards, apparently thinking him too skinny to be worth her while. She went over and took down the moving bundle, prodding it with her forelegs.
The bundle emitted a squeak. Etwol got painfully up and retrieved his sword from the spider silk. Then, brandishing it over his head, he leaped forward with an orc cry.
The sword was still stuck by a long, sticky strand, and as Etwol lunged forward it caught in several more. For a fraction of a minute Etwol dangled from the ceiling, bobbing up and down and kicking. Then with a loud crash and a cloud of choking dust a large portion of the ceiling tumbled down.
Etwol picked himself out of the rubble and looked around. The light from his hammer caught the dust particles still floating in the air and made a luminous blue cloud around him. In one corner Shelob sat huddled up slightly and half stunned from a very large rock that had fallen on her head. She had dropped the bundle and it was kicking. It gave another squeal.
Etwol seized hold of the bundle and dragged it out into the tunnel, but once there he was too tired to do anything more than saw half-heartedly at the spider silk.
"Get on wiv it, maggot; I'm stifling," came a voice from inside the cocoon.
Etwol redoubled his efforts, but found that he was not able to make much headway with his dull orc sword. He longed very much for one of the beautiful blades he had forged for Saruman's army.
"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying," he said, as the bundle kicked him. He dropped his sword and resorted to his teeth and fingernails. At last he got the strands parted enough to let the small orc runner out.
"Fanks, mate," said the orc, crawling painfully from the sticky silk. "Gore, 'ere she comes."
A very large spider-shaped form emerged from the hole behind them. With twin shrieks, both orcs flew down the passage, tripping over spider silk and flailing their arms wildly to fend off stringy webs. At last they found a narrow opening and squeezed through, leaving Shelob on the other side. She could not fit through the hole and she did not really like orcs anyway. They didn't taste very good.
Etwol and the runner stood panting side by side for several moments, trying to get their pulses back to normal.
"You're a good 'and at fighting spiders," said the runner. "Where'd you learn?"
"I don't remember," said Etwol. "Anyway, how do I get out of here?"
"Where are you headed? For the tower or the secret stair?"
"Secret stair. I'm leaving Mordor."
"Then take the first tunnel on your right. It'll lead you right out. Cheers!" And the orc scampered off, as if it hadn't been stuck by Shelob only a half hour before.
Etwol turned down the passage the orc had told him of. It led on and on until he was sure he was lost again, but at last it began to slope gently downwards and then he saw a faint light up ahead.