Chapter 47: The Voice of Saruman
I slept the entire next day and was only woken right before we were to head out to Isengard. At first I was ready to tell Boromir to piss off, but then he mentioned Merry and Pippin. I had a few things to say to them, so I reluctantly pulled myself from the wonderful warm bed.
The sight of Murphy trying to bargain with a horse who looked no more ready to do this than he did was totally worth it. I felt quite smug when I was able to climb into the saddle of Iodocus's horse with a minimum of fuss. When it was possible I would return her to the Senones, I assured the mare silently.
As if hearing my thoughts, she nickered.
Shamelessly York got in the saddle behind Guerra, who had a surprising talent for handling the fiery little mare he was given. Martin wasn't doing terribly either, though he kept shifting uncomfortably.
"Cass!"
I almost cricked my neck with how fast I looked over my shoulder.
It was Andy running from the gate, my halberd in one hand. "You don't want to forget this," she teased.
Honestly I wasn't sure I was up to carrying it the whole way to Isengard but I took it anyway. It would be easier than coming back here to get it like I had initially planned. "Thanks. See you in Edoras?" I asked hopefully.
Her nostrils flared. "If we can get there in the next month," she replied with exasperation, "I need to get back to packing." She blew a kiss up at me before running back to whatever she had been doing.
Like on the run from Parth Galen, I rigged a rope sling to carry the halberd on my back.
The trot uphill to the mouth of the gully was the most difficult part; I felt for the horses and gave mine a good rub on the neck when we reached level land. From there we sped up, relying on speed to get us to and from Isengard safely. Two days passed of riding long into the night with brief pauses to rest our steeds more than ourselves.
The first night I wanted to immediately sleep again, but Guerra had his phone out and I wasn't going to miss a minute. Already Val and York were huddled around him so I had to do a bit of squeezing to see the screen. "Ooohhh, The Good Place!" I whisper-shouted.
"Ssshhh!" They all hissed.
It had been so long since I saw any kind of modern media, I would gladly have suffered through You've Got Mail. Instead I was riveted to one of the shows I had always meant to watch but never got around to. Immediately I regretted that oversight, and even more when Guerra had to shut his phone down.
Boromir was still planning with Ganalf, Aragorn, Aunt Libby, and King Theoden so I thought of going over to see what was happening. Then I saw Gimli snoring and decided he had the right idea; if something really important happened, I'd be told.
The landscape became familiar very quickly, to the point that I barely even needed to direct the horse until the last morning of riding. I couldn't blame her for not wanting to go near Isengard; that smoke didn't look good. I didn't even want to go there until we came across a well-smashed stone gate with two hobbits napping on the ruins.
Unable to believe my eyes, I watched as Merry gave Pippin a bit of a kick to wake him up then greeted us with a well-prepared spiel. "Welcome my lords and ladies, to Isengard!" Merry finished with a flourish and a grin that said he was almost alright.
Gimli read my mind as he began to splutter about them relaxing while we did all the hard work.
"The salted pork is particularly good," Pippin put in.
Suddenly Gimli wasn't nearly so angry. "Salted pork?" he asked hopefully.
Our reunion was cut short by Gandalf asking tersely where someone called Treebeard was. To guide us Merry got up on Shadowfax with Gandalf, but Pippin saw me and lit up.
"Cass! Brilliant, I told Merry that you were alive, but he didn't believe me!" he exclaimed.
I grinned. "What, he thought a measly few dozen uruk-hai could do me in? Psh!" I patted the front of my saddle and slid back when Pippin hopped up the stirrup to sit in the offered spot. Was he a bit taller than the last time I saw him?
"Nine thousand didn't manage it, how could a few dozen?" Murphy asked dryly, sidling up beside us.
"Pippin, this is one of my friends from back home, Andrew Murphy," I introduced, "Murphy, this is Pippin- Peregrin Took- one of the hobbits who at the very least owes me lunch for making me chase him across the damn country. On foot." I gave the hobbit a mock-severe frown.
"I'm terribly sorry for all the trouble I've caused you," the hobbit said so sincerely that I couldn't help my upset draining away, "It never seems to stop, does it? First our pranks and now this."
"You didn't do it on purpose. I can forgive five days and nights of running if you can find me some of that salt pork you were talking about earlier," I said with a mischievous wink.
Electra's snort must have hurt her nose. "You did cross-country?" she questioned in disbelief, drawing up on my other side.
I gave her an insulted glare, then snickered. "Yeah, I wouldn't've believed it either, but Matt did the math and Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Boromir, and I managed a hundred-thirty miles in five days." I was admittedly boasting now, but seeing Electra go bug-eyed was worth being a show-off.
"A hundred and thirty-five," Boromir corrected as he passed by our little knot of riders.
York's eyes may have fallen out if they went wider. "First that crazy battle and now a five-day long run? Are you still human?" he questioned incredulously, "Do you have x-ray vision too?"
I rolled my eyes. "Oh go to hell," I told him fondly, "I'm plenty human. It's Aragorn and Boromir that aren't. I'll let them tell you that story; you'll freak."
The tower of Orthanc came into sight and we shut up, impressed by the stonework. Then I noticed that those trees really were moving and felt a little faint when one began talking. Young Master Gandalf? Hadn't Gandalf said something about being three thousand years old?
"That's Treebeard. Very nice chap, but he's always telling us to not be hasty," Pippin told me as the walking tree was introduced to King Theoden, then Aunt Libby.
"A queen in Tharbad? How the world has changed, hm-hm," Treebeard said thoughtfully, then dipped his leafy head to her as he had to King Theoden, "Welcome to Isengard."
"Thank you very much, Treebeard. I'm absolutely delighted to meet you," Aunt Libby said with a polite smile. In a barely noticeable movement she shifted her cloak so that it hid the head of her axe.
Of course Gandalf got back on topic, asking where Saruman was and then charging Treebeard with guarding him. Unfortunately he vetoed Gimli's idea of having other the wizard's head taken off.
As the rest of the party carefully edged forward, Pippin suddenly jumped off of my horse. "Be careful!" I hissed at him, not caring for him to fall into a hole in the ground or something.
Instead he plunged his arms into the water and came up again with a perfectly round sphere made of a beautiful black material. It simultaneously lured me in and made me want to vomit.
"Bless my bark!" Treebeard exclaimed, drawing up in surprise.
But Gandalf seemed much more alarmed than amazed. "Peregrin Took!" he rumbled.
Pippin's attention snapped from his find to Gandalf's face.
"I'll take that, my lad," Gandalf said much more kindly but still sternly, holding out expectant hands.
Understandably reluctantly, Pippin handed it up to him, watching as the stone was covered in Gandalf's cloak.
It was a relief to have Pippin climb back up into my saddle. "Curiosity killed the cat," I reminded him in a low voice.
"But didn't satisfaction bring it back?" Pippin replied, smiling up at me.
Dammit, he was right. I sighed and just had to chuckle at his eternal optimism.
"Be careful," Gandalf urged suddenly, "Saruman may have lost most of his power, yet his voice is still poisonous!"
Our horses gathered at the base of Orthanc while Gandalf repeatedly shouted for Saruman to come out. Then finally he lost his temper and boomed, "Saruman! Harken to me!"
It took a moment but Saruman almost seemed to be dragged to the railing of the balcony above. It had to be him, a tall and thin man with a black patch in his white beard and a staff that echoed the shape of Orthanc itself. He wore a cloak that I couldn't quite grasp the color of- it seemed to change as he moved. "Well? Why must you disturb my rest? Will you give me no peace at all by night or day?" Instead of sounding aggressive, he had the innocent tone of someone who didn't deserve any of this.
Immediately I was suspicious, though it wrestled with my old friend, guilt. The guilt didn't feel natural and I fought it, wondering why in the world I felt guilty. I hadn't done anything to this guy.
My mind went to years gone by when I was told that I was hateful, that I was happy, that I was guilty. Feelings that others tried to force me to feel. It was exactly the same as what Saruman was doing, only he was better at it than Mum had ever been.
The disgust and disdain I had always felt for Saruman only increased. At the same time fury rose up that I could barely tamp down. How dare he manipulate me like that. In the same way she had hurt me.
I elbowed York, who hadn't breathed in a while. He took in a shaky breath. "How is he doing this?" he whispered harshly.
"Wizard," I hissed.
York, then Murphy, acknowledged and their confused eyes turned hard as they looked back at Saruman.
All around me, people shifted in their saddles and looked very uncomfortable.
Aunt Libby frowned and looked back at me, head tilted.
"I feel it too," I reported, more mouthing the words than speaking them.
Still she got the message and nodded, turning her attention back to the wizard in the tower.
Now he was trying to convince King Theoden back into his influence, assuring that only he, Saruman, could save them all from collapse and darkness. Really. He was piling it on thick too, calling King Theoden "Oh worthy son of Thengel the Thrice-Renowned" and "mightiest king of western lands."
There was nothing funny about any of this, but laughter still bubbled up in my chest. It took talent to grovel and boast at the same time. I made the mistake of glancing over at Electra.
Our eyes met and we both busted up laughing. Nothing dainty either; this was uncontrollable, slightly hysterical, and full of hatred.
Oh good, Saruman looked annoyed, I thought, and gave the sky a good howl of glee.
The sudden interruption gave Eomer time to get his dig in at Saruman, pointing out quite rightly that Saruman couldn't do anything for him and that they had won this part of the war. "But will you parley with this dealer in treachery and murder? Remember Theodred at the Fords and Hama's grave in Helm's Deep!" he urged his uncle.
While he spoke reasonably, I tried to stop laughing. I really did. It took a few tears and a charlie horse in my side before I managed to quiet myself.
Disregarding Electra and me as utterly mad, Saruman gave Eomer a sick burn before turning his attention back to King Theoden. He knew who was most vulnerable to his voice. After all, it had spent who knows how long in his head before being expelled.
"We will have peace," Theoden said in a thick voice, struggling with the words like something was trying to keep them in his throat.
Some men cheered, the ones under Saruman's spell.
I ran my fingers down the handle of my hammer.
"We will have peace," Theoden repeated, voice clearer, "We will have peace- when you and all your works have perished!" Any doubt or sign of being bewitched fell away and he glared up at the wizard with fire in his eyes. "And the works of your dark master to whom you would deliver us! You are a liar, Saruman, and a corruptor of men's hearts!" And he kept going.
Sheer amazement made my mouth drop open as King Theoden went off on Saruman. He didn't hold anything back and yet he was fully composed like an avenging angel.
I really wished I had some popcorn.
Movement caught my attention and wait, was Guerra recording this? He was holding up his phone sideways and smirking, so yep, this was getting recorded for posterity. Or at least as long as his phone and York's solar charger survived.
It all seemed to be too much for Saruman. He lost his temper and the spell broke as he hissed his hatred at the King of Rohan. Finally his true nature revealed itself, if just for that moment.
Then he tried Gandalf and this time he exerted so much of his power that not a single person was unaffected. For just a moment, it only seemed natural that Gandalf and Saruman would discuss things and figure out how to get us all out of this muddle, since they were so much smarter than the rest of us.
Even while I had those thoughts they seemed not right. Instinctively I rejected them, just like I did all those times that my will to live instead told me to jump off a bridge, yet they were just so powerful-
My thoughts spiralled. Were they my thoughts? Are any of those mine? Are they all his thoughts? Do I even have thoughts? What are thoughts?
"Cass?" It was Pippin. The hobbits needed me.
It hurt like hell but his voice gave me a way back out of my own head, to a world that was too full of light and color and that voice-
Only, Saruman's voice wasn't the same serpentine seduction coiling through the mind. It was harsh and haughty now, sneering with hatred and seething with jealousy aimed at Gandalf. Saruman's staff was broken and he looked like a hideous old man now rather than a kingly wizard.
"Cass, are you alright?" Pippin asked again, tilted to face me in the saddle.
He was about to fall off so I perched him more carefully on the horse. "That voice messed me up. If you want to stay longer then you can, but I'm going," I answered, throat scratchy and parched.
"I don't think I want to stay any longer either," Pippin answered, "All this has made me rather hungry." Aren't hobbits always hungry?
"You can show me where that salted pork is," I murmured and urged the horse to turn around. I was pretty sure nobody would mind; I was hungry too now that I thought about it. A headache was starting up that would surely turn into a killer migraine soon.
While the horse trotted slowly back the way we came, I got my canteen out and tried to get ahead of the hammers pounding in my head.
"Why did you try to have my wife kidnapped?" Boromir's hard voice froze me in the saddle.
Not that the horse noticed; she kept carefully winding her way through the treacherous water.
"Why else but information?" Saruman's sneer was all too evident. "For all that this peasant before me is of a line previously deprived of lordship, she is well guarded."
At that implication, I finally stopped the horse in her tracks. My heart stopped when I thought of Aunt Libby being kidnapped; our little settlement wouldn't've survived without her.
"You couldn't even get past my family?" Aunt Libby's voice was amused and I imagined that she must have been grinning, "Sorry, I can't take you seriously as an evil overlord anymore.
"Besides," she continued, "You could have, say, come over and asked whatever it is, and not needed to kidnap anybody. We probably would've told you willingly. But you chose violence and now look at you." Despite that Saruman was many thousands of years older than her, she had the Mom Tone™ out like he was Rangi.
Martin's snort of laughter echoed.
"Let's go while we're ahead," I muttered and had the horse start forward again.
Thankfully Saruman's voice was muffled with distance and Pippin quite happily pointed me at a store room that was full of good food and above water. Fresh bread, vegetables, cheese, bacon, salted pork, jam… My mood improved enormously as we began gathering together a meal for when the rest of the gang was done dealing with the wayward wizard.
"Did your friends come to help with the war?" Pippin asked while he lit the stove with the bit of dry wood we could find.
"We can't figure out another reason they're here and now, so they must be. Not even they know; they just showed up right before the battle at Helm's Deep and we haven't had time to think about it since." I shrugged and began grating some cheese.
"Will they go home afterward then?" Oh, Pippin with his innocent questions…
I sighed and shook my head. "It's impossible. There is no going back," I answered much more morosely than I intended, "I feel so guilty for them being here, even though I know it's not my fault."
Not quite paying attention, I accidentally nicked my finger and dropped the grater with a hiss. "Damn, not again." I thought I stopped doing that some years ago.
"I keep telling you to put less of yourself into our food," Martin said fondly from the doorway. To Pippin he then explained, "It's why we only let her cook sometimes- she always gets some blood on the food." He then offered the most precious of resources: a bandaid.
"Oh, the things I used to take for granted," I half-joked, admiring the Hello Kitty pattern now on my finger, "Are you on an errand or can we put you to work?" Cooking even just for the king's people was going to be a task and a half.
I was hip bumped out of the way and Martin took up the cheese grater. "There's a group of people that look like the bloke we fought with at the castle, the friend of yours. They're asking for you and Andy," he relayed.
"The Senones? Here? Huh, I'd better go see what the trouble is. Thanks." I clapped Martin on the shoulder, then Pippin, and unhappily waded over to where I'd left the horse. No way in hell was I walking over there.
She seemed to sense something, dancing anxiously as I mounted her saddle. Even before I could direct her, she started a hard trot to the gateway- almost as eager to get out of this place as I was. Then she saw the people standing at the gates and gave a loud neigh, dashing the rest of the way.
"Whoa, girl!" I shouted even as I laughed. There was no need to fear; this horse sniffed at and nuzzled the people at the gate lovingly.
Nechtan's face was more relaxed than I had seen in months despite the assortment of new lines surrounding his eyes and mouth. "Hello, Galchobhar!" he greeted me and came forward to hold the horse's head while I got down.
We embraced with large smiles before I said hello to the men with him who I recognized but didn't know the names of. "What brings y'all here?" I questioned, eyeing the large pack on the single horse they had with them.
"Iodocus rode to Helm's Deep and has not ridden back yet," Nechtan replied, voice low and worried, "Where is he?"
A lump formed in my throat and for a long moment I couldn't speak.
Something in my face must have tipped them off, because one of the men let out a soft cry of grief. He bent over, shoulders shaking and face in his hands.
"Iodocus was the last to fall, protecting the caves where the women and children hid. He saved them and he saved me too. There's a pine tree on his grave at Helm's Deep." I wasn't sure which of them I was speaking to- the weeping man or Nechtan.
Both were devastated, though their village headman bore it quietly with a bowed head. He said a brief prayer in their own language.
Respectfully I bowed my head as well for that moment.
"This is Iodocus's brother Cathan," Nechtan introduced solemnly, gesturing with a wrinkled hand.
I really wanted to grimace at the water works but still managed a sympathetic smile and a nod.
The horse nickered and only then did I remember to hand the reins to Cathan. As sad as I was to see her go, she needed to be home. "I'm so sorry Iodocus can't go home. He was a good friend," I added.
Cathan sniffled and nodded.
"Saruman is defeated," Nechtan declared with fierce sadness and joy in his voice, "Iodocus helped defeat him. He is a hero to us now."
"Is that why you came here?" I guessed.
"Word came that trees broke Saruman's walls and cleansed his stench. I came to see," Nechtan explained, "Did you?"
"Yes," I replied, "My aunt and the King of Rohan are also here to see it."
The moment I mentioned King Theoden there was a stiff wariness to the Senones. "We must go," Nechtan said abruptly, preparing to flee.
"When you're ready, he wants to meet you!" I blurted out, hope filling my chest and crowding my lungs, "He wants to thank you for the warning about the uruk-hai! And to honor Iodocus!"
Nechtan stopped abruptly. "To thank us?" he repeated, disbelief tangible.
"Yes! Fedemid helped to heal Theodred, right?" I asked, praying that I was still able to speak of him in present tense, "He wants to thank you for that and for the warning, and for sending Iodocus, when he brings Theodred home."
For a long moment Nechtan's keen dark eyes surveyed my face, doubt and faith swirling inside. Slowly he nodded. "We will meet him and Queen Elizabeth here after all fighting is over. Prince is still too hurt to move far," he declared.
"After all this time?" I questioned, trying not to imagine all the things that could have him still confined to bed.
"Fedemid and Kali say so," Nechtan confirmed.
"If they say it, then let's go with it. I'll tell Aunt Libby you want a go-between and when the war is over, we'll come back and see you." I grinned, hoping he didn't see how unsure I was that I'd make it to the other side of the war.
We hugged it out again before the Senones left the gates with their two horses. I only stood watching them walk away for a moment before my stomach reminded me what I had been doing.
By then the conference with Saruman was over and as expected, had ended in failure. We had to make our meal short- just because the battle was over didn't mean we had all the time in the world. It was still some of the best cooking I'd had since Lothlorien. No one can make a good stodgy meal like a hobbit.
Upon hearing Nechtan's offer, King Theoden had agreed to it with a thoughtful look at Aunt Libby, who had been very enthusiastic about the whole thing. Our two biggest allies no longer at war? It was all she could ever wish for as a queen.
I finished my meal while watching the last of the confrontation with Saruman, occasionally guffawing when a really good barb got thrown. Eomer was spicy these days and I was here for it.
The real life Eomer watched the phone with a conflicted expression that I couldn't ignore. Once the precious mobile was back in its owner's hands, I just had to ask, "What's up, buttercup?"
He tilted his head for me to come with him and began to walk to where the horses were left. "I am still not sure what to think of your family being from the future. Now you are finally telling the whole truth of where you are from- I could tell the relief you felt when you admitted it and the truth of it was in your eyes. And yet I do not know what to think of such a thing. The future?" He scoffed. "How can there be a future?"
For a long moment we were silent as we checked his horse over and readied the gelding.
"I know the feeling," I admitted, remembering years and years of that exact question beating through my head, "This is going to be hard. But there will be a future." I tried to impress it upon him with my eyes, barely able to see him over the horse's back.
His doubtful blue eyes almost caused me pain. While yes, he had armed conflict to keep him from the same kind of despair his sister suffered, perhaps that caused its own damage. He looked more my age than his, his eyes far away.
Okay, time to maybe say more than I should. "There will be a future. I know that because I saw my own skeleton," I blurted out.
His eyes went wide.
It sent a thrill of panic through me; I really shouldn't be saying this. "I don't know what will happen between now and then, but the skeleton was in her- my- sixties," I continued against my better judgment, "That's another thirty-some years. And it wasn't all bad; I still have some injuries to rack up, but-" I was taken by surprise by the force of my own happiness as I said, "They could tell by the pelvic bone that I'm going to have a baby. It can't be all bad if I'm willing to take a risk like that, can it?"
I almost thought we would finish with his horse in silence. That was a lot to take in and I wasn't going to rush him.
The rush of joy that had filled me at the idea of a child left me speechless. While I had never been against having children, I never thought about actively having one; only after that damn pelvic bone had I really given the idea brain space. But now I'm married and after this damn war, we could have children.
Boromir would be an excellent father, I thought and tried not to imagine it. But the longing that I had avoided for so long was like a tsunami.
"What happened to the steed you were riding?" Eomer asked suddenly, drawing me out of my tumultuous thoughts. He wasn't looking at me but rather stroking his own horse's nose.
"She was Iodocus's. I returned her to his people," I replied. It suddenly felt like grief punched me in the chest at the loss of my friend.
Eomer nodded, more to himself than me. "She's a fine beast," he stated, "You are lucky that we have a spare steed for you and the hobbit to share on the way back to Edoras."
I really was fortunate; I hadn't thought that far.
"If people from the future still need horses," Eomer added.
I gave him a flat look, but then saw the spark of laughter in his eyes. "Oh you," I said affectionately and went off to find the mentioned spare horse.