They're Taking the Hobbits to Isengard! They're Taking the Hobbits to Isengard!
29 February 3019, of the Third Age
9 Rethe 1419, Shire-Reckoning Time...
Strider shook his head. "Hobbits," I fancied he muttered under his breath. "Barad-Dûr. Very Well. It is the house of the Dark Lord, his tower in Mordor, where he would have you tortured far further than you could imagine...you would give up those you love, and admit to anything they ask of you, even if it was not true...and you would eventually beg to be killed so that you would not have to suffer anymore..." he shrugged once. "But do not think of such things as you dream. You are safe here, and soon you will be safer still. Good-night, little hobbit."
Words shook around in my head.
My hands were tightly bound and the Uruks were running west with me, Merry, and Pippin over their backs. They did not stop for anything, which was unfortunate since I was feeling cold and sick and my head was pounding. I would have gladly been knocked out again, but Pippin was worried about me and Merry as it was. Merry had not yet come to.
"Merry," I called softly.
Pippin did the same and then fell silent.
The Uruk-kai stopped after a few minutes when a few orcs emerged from the plains. One named Grishnákh spoke first. "You're late. Our master grows impatient. He wants the Shire-rats now."
The Uruk-kai leader, Uglúk replied nastily, his teeth bared. "I don't take orders from orc-maggots. Saruman will have his prize. We will deliver them."
Grishnákh clicked his teeth and growled in his throat.
The Uruks lifted us over their heads and dropped us painfully to the ground; Pippin, me, and then Merry. Merry stirred, but his eyes did not open, and his face seemed to grow a little paler. A bloody gash was set over his left eye, a wound from goodness-knows-not.
"Merry? Merry! Wake up Merry!" Pippin pleaded, and then tugged on an Uruk's cloak. "My friend is sick! He needs water! Please!" He cried in his brave little voice. The surrounding Uruks laughed.
"Sick is he? Give him his medicine, boys!" They chortled, such a sickening and hateful noise that Pippin and I both looked at each other with worried grimaces.
One Uruk presented a dark bottle of sticky black liquid and roughly grasped Merry's jaw before forcing it down his throat. Beside me, Pippin flinched as Merry choked and gagged and spit it up.
"STOP IT!" I howled, clawing with my tied hands at the nearest Uruk's arm. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!"
"Can't take his medicine, doesn't know what's good for him!" They jeered, swiping a sticky substance on the wound over his eye, which sizzled and made him cry out.
"You next, Shire-rats," and before I could protest, had my mouth roughly jerked open and was swallowing the thick, bitter substance. Though I gagged and nearly screamed from the pain of it all, I felt a sudden warmth rise from my throat to the rest of my body. Their medicine, terrible though it was, did give quite a bit of strength and I felt ready to go on.
Pippin struggled the most, and received a kick for his courage. Galadriel's parting words found themselves in my head, and I realized that she had used her wisdom to speak the truth for what she knew our future would hold, even if we did not.
The Uruks, bored with their new sport, finally left us alone, and Merry's eyes fluttered, now that he had taken some of the draught.
"Merry," I said, in great relief, and though my wrists were tied, was able to get some of his hair out of his face. Seeing his bruised and bloody face, Pippin made a small noise of anger beside me. Merry turned slowly to him.
"Hullo, Pip."
"You're hurt…" Pippin's face was full of fear and worry for his best friend and big cousin.
"I'm fine. It was just an act," Merry smiled, though I could tell it was painful for him. It was heart-wrenching to watch the strength Merry was showing, and the lies he was spinning, all for Pippin to be reassured. The love between the boys was too much and all else faded away.
"An act?" Pippin looked relieved.
"See? I fooled you too," Merry chuckled weakly. "Don't worry about me, Pippin."
A loud sniff caught us off guard. Uglúk was smelling the air, and once he had caught the scent of whatever he was searching for, let out a loud growl.
"What is it? What do you smell?" Another Uruk asked.
"Man-flesh!" Ugluk roared.
"Aragorn," I whispered to Pippin happily. "He's come after us!"
Several Uruks roared. "They've picked up our trail! Let's move!"
Instead of lifting us on their backs, we were pulled to our feet by out hair and forced to run with them. With a bit of quick thinking, Pippin veered off to the east, away from the pack, and rolled down a small hill, where he quickly unfastened his Lórien brooch and threw it into the grass. His escape didn't go over well, since the Uruks caught up quickly and had just as quickly set Pippin back in his place. For a moment we three were relieved that Pippin had suffered no violence, until one Uruk behind him raised a thick whip and struck the back of his legs. Pippin shrieked and stumbled, but the Uruks pushed him on.
"Be strong, Pippin," I murmured and gritted my teeth as I was struck with the whip too, and Merry last. The thing burned my back and it felt like my entire body was vibrating with the sting.
"Brace yourself, Mandy," Merry gasped.
"This will not be forgotten," the Uruk growled, snapping the whip across all of our backs to silence us. "Leg it!"
From a Cannibal Breakfast to a Bloody Massacre…Not to Mention the Talking Trees
Later that evening, after we were found to be too tired and too slow to run, and after many whips struck our legs and backs and still could not get us to move along, we were lifted and carried until twilight when the Uruks pulled us off them with one arm and dropped us roughly on the ground.
The Uruks refused to go a step further, exhausted, as were we, and their leader Uglúk, though reluctant at first, allowed his pack to stop for the night. He demanded a fire to be started, and the Uruks, distracted by their new tasks, took their attention from us hobbits. I was lying beside Merry, who appeared to be dozing, until he began to speak. "I think we might have made a mistake…leaving the Shire, Mandy." He felt about for my hand and grasped it. His was cold.
"Merry!" Pippin joined us, crawling painfully on his stomach. "Mandy!" His face was grave. "I'm sorry I…I thought that it was best to…"
He was telling about dropping his brooch. "You did well, Pip," I whispered. I could hear my own voice was weak. "They'll find us now, for sure." I shifted my position and with my teeth tugged at the ropes sawing into my wrists. The skin there was already chafed raw from being carried and strained. I rested my hands and shut my eyes, feeling ready to go mad from the discomfort and pain. Pippin's soft scarf, now slightly worn and dirty, brushed my hand and I grasped it in my fist. A single tear from the memory of my birthday dripped down my cheek and I opened my eyes.
The loud noise of axe hitting wood startled me out of my rest, an eerie groaning noise rose above it.
"What's making that noise?" Pippin asked fearfully.
"It's the trees…" Merry whispered, and sat up.
Pippin lifted his head up. "What? What do you mean?"
Merry stared into the distance, and then jerked back to Pippin. "You remember the Old Forest, on the borders of Buckland? Folk used to say there was something in the water that made the trees grow tall... and come alive," Merry replied.
"Alive?" I asked quietly.
Merry nodded. "Trees that could whisper, talk to each other. Even move!"
Nearby, an Uruk roared, and stomped his foot which rattled our little camp. "I'm starving'! We ain't had nothing but maggoty bread for three stinking' days!"
"Yeah!" Another agreed. "Why can't we have some meat? What about them?" His head turned to where Merry, Pippin, and I lay, and we stared back. "They're fresh!"
I opened my mouth in horror, but said nothing. Merry moved closer to Pippin. Though he was pale, he stood tall and looked defiant.
"They are NOT for eating!" Uglúk growled. He jerked us up by the front of our cloaks and held us uncomfortably tight.
Grishnákh joined in. "What about their legs? They don't need those… Oh, they look tasty!" He clicked his tongue and licked his lips. I looked around in alarm as Merry squeezed my arm. His hand was trembling.
"Get back, scum!" Uglúk roared. "The prisoners go to Saruman alive and unspoiled."
"Alive? Why alive?" Grishnákh asked. "Do they give good sport?"
"They have something," Uglúk replied. "An Elvish weapon. The master wants it for war."
Pippin leaned into my ear and Merry's. "They think we have the ring!" His voice shook and cracked.
"Shh!" I said hurriedly, though Pippin looked confused. "As soon as they find out we don't," I explained. "We're good as dead."
Pippin paled, but Merry nodded approvingly.
"Just a mouthful, off the flank!" Another Uruk added. They did not give up the idea that we were for food and not questioning. He lunged toward us and Uglúk cut his head in one stroke.
"Looks like meat's back on the menu, boys!" He roared, and everyone leapt in together to eat the dead Uruk.
We stared, aghast, until we realized that they were not paying us any mind, and we had no guards. Merry jerked his head and we followed, crawling eagerly toward Fangorn. Suddenly Pippin cried out; Merry and I turned to see Grishnákh standing on him. Pippin gasped and Grishnákh took him by the face, staring him in the eye.
"Go on," he mocked. "Call for help…Squeal…No one's gonna save you now!" He raised his sword to Pippin's throat.
"Pippin!" I cried, as Grishnákh was skewered by a lance and horses burst into the clearing. We crawled as fast as possible but the horses pranced and reared, and we were nearly flattened by their wild hooves. Pippin was tossed by a trotting horse onto his back and held his tied hands over his face as another reared over him and he screamed before rolling over and crawling quickly away. I caught sight of a blade and we cut the ropes from our chafed wrists quickly and scrambled to our feet, dodging galloping horses and flying spears.
Following us was Grishnákh, still alive. I, behind the others (for I was running in my skirts and quite weak), felt an iron hand grip my dagger's belt. I released the belt from my waist, but Grishnákh had taken hold of my left arm. I struggled and urged Merry and Pippin to go, which they did, but stopped short of entering Fangorn. Grishnákh, dragging me, rushed towards the boys.
My mind raced, an idea suddenly burst into my head, and I acted upon it impulsively. I reached the hand that Grishnákh held to the other side of my waist. I seized my sword and unsheathed it in one motion before flinging my arm upwards and slicing it across Grishnákh's face. He howled and released me, and I fell to the ground. Before I could get away he had taken my dagger from the belt I unbuckled and swiftly stabbed cruelly into the air.
The blade cut across my arm as I scrambled to my feet to go. I felt the deep wound wet with blood and cried out, holding my arm as I ran. Merry took my other arm and aided me into Fangorn and as we ran deep into the forest.
Feeling safe at last, I collapsed against a tree. Pippin fed me a bite of Lembas straight away while Merry ripped some length from his old cloak, still safe in his pack, and tying it around my arm.
"Did we lose him?" Pippin asked, looking around. "I think we lost him."
"I hope," I said, gasping for breath and painfully holding my arm. Blood seeped through my fingers and I made a small noise of helplessness. "He'll skewer me."
"You're very brave," Pippin said proudly. "To escape like that…"
"Brave but very stupid," I reminded him, while Merry silently tied the fabric around my arm.
The next thing we heard was the crashing of brush and Grishnákh's pained howls. "I'm gonna rip out your filthy little innards!" He roared. "Come here!"
We ran around several trees before Merry looked up and blinked. "Trees. Climb a tree. Pippin, help Mandy up."
Pippin scrambled up and I followed. It wasn't hard, since hobbits have a knack for climbing trees, but bending my arm was painful. Wet, warm blood soaked my bandage and Merry climbed up behind me and stopped halfway up, looking around.
"He's gone!" He sighed with relief, and Grishnákh, standing below, gave a vicious tug on his leg. He shook him off and kicked him in the face.
"Merry!" Pippin and I cried, as Merry lost his strength and fell. Suddenly the tree opened its eyes and looked directly at Pippin, who cried out in horror. I clung to the tree as Pippin let go and lunged backwards. I reached an arm to catch him but the tree caught him first, stepping on Grishnákh and killing him at last, and picking up Merry all at the same time.
"Little orcs, bar hoom," said the tree.
"It's talking Merry," Pippin stuttered, not taking his eyes off the tree. "The tree is talking!"
"Tree?" He talked quite slowly. "I am no tree. I am an Ent."
"A tree herder!" Merry said with a smile. "A shepherd of the forest!"
"Don't talk to it, Merry," Pippin said warily. "Don't encourage it!"
"Treebeard, some call me," said the Ent.
"And…whose side are you on?" I asked with a small gasp of pain from my arm.
"Side?" Treebeard appeared insulted I had asked such a question. "I am on nobody's side…because nobody is on my side, little orc. Nobody cares for the woods anymore."
"We're not orcs," Merry justified. "We're hobbits."
"Hobbits? Hmm…never heard of a hobbit before…sounds like orc mischief to me." In his anger, Treebeard began to squeeze and I struggled, sure that Merry and Pippin were too. "They come with fire, they come with axes. Gnawing, biting, breaking, hacking, burning! Destroyers and usurpers, curse them!"
"You don't understand!" Merry cried, gritting his teeth with the efforts of freeing himself. "We're hobbits!" He yelled, trying to get Treebeard to listen. "Halflings! Shire-folk!"
"Hoom. Maybe you are…and maybe…you are not. The White Wizard will know."
"White Wizard?" I gasped.
"Saruman," whispered Pippin.