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Old 12-25-2015, 10:47 PM   #41
Olmer
Elf Lord
 
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Join Date: Mar 2004
Location: LI-woods, NY
Posts: 653
31

I hate songs and music of elves. Grandfather Sam was coming into a delight from them. I hate it.
We were running a little less than an hour, and then I stopped. I stopped suddenly even for myself. I just realized that I can not run farther. Not because I've gotten tired. I realized that I should go back. Don't ask me - why. Maybe, because I could not leave in the trouble those, whose bread I have eaten. Maybe I was struck by a sad sound of snaga's song. Maybe...
It could be anything. It was wrong - to run away. It was reasonable, but it was wrong. The right thing was to return. It was scary, to the icy ache in the knees, but it was right. And I stopped.
- What are you doing? - Ghai nearly knocked me off my feet, bumping into my back.
- I'm going back, - I replied.
- Like this? - Did not understand Ghai. - Where?
- To the village - I said. - Back to the village.
- No need, - came to us Ghash. - There is no need for you to come back. We have a deed that we have to do. There's nothing and no one you can help with.
- Maybe, - I said. - Even, possibly. But I'm going back.
- You cannot return, - said Ghash. - I told you then, you won't be able to change your mind any more. We must go on further.
- Go, - I shrugged. -You do have a job. I chose another job. You yourself were explaining to me that the whole our life depends on the choices we have made. I have chosen, and you cannot deprive me of what I've chosen.
- I can, - Ghash said suddenly harshly . - You became one of us. Do you remember what happens for a violation of orders?
- Have you decided to deprive me of the name? - I asked. - Or just to kill right now? You can try. But by this you cannot prove anything to me. I want to return. I cannot run away when the children are getting killed in there.
- What children are you talking about? The snagas that remained to protect the well? Forget about them. They are only snagas. Those who have not done anything worthy to receive a name. They are a thrown off lizard tail. They destined to die today, and they will die. Why would you want to die with them? Can you at least explain?
- I cannot, - I said honestly. - And I do not want to die, I want to help them. At least with something . Even if it cost me my life. You say - snagas. How old are they?
- Who cares? - I made Ghash surprised . - Well, twelve years-eleven, what is the difference?
- They are children. Children that protect their home. I want to help them.
- I do not understand. What does that mean? Ghai, how old are you?
- Fifteen, - grimly said Ghai.
- Ghu-Urghan had also been fifteen. Uragh - eighteen. I am - twenty-two. Does it matter how many years are anyone of us? It is not the years, but your doings make you an adult. Snagas are doing what they should do. Do you think among them some is even one who had been ordered to stay there? Each of them decided it by himself. It is their choice, not yours.
- Don't you understand, - I exclaimed hotly. - They won't grow up..You said that your people want to become men, the people, as have been thought up by the Impartial One. These lads in the village won't have such a possibility. And their children and grandchildren, too, won't have . Because they won't have children. They won't have even a today's sunset. Why is the only worthy thing to do in their lives is to die? Why is that? Can you explain it to me? The endeavor of which you are so worried is the dust and emptiness in comparison with it. No one will read the books of Barad-Dur if their children thrown to the death. Who needs the remaining manuscripts of the dead, if for that the living children should be left to die? I decided to return to fight alongside them and to survive or to die with them, too. I cannot explain to you any better than that. It is my choice. And if you want to deprive me of this, you can hit me in the back when I'm going to go ...
- I'll go with him, - suddenly said Ghai.
- Another problem, - sighed Ghash. - Are you out of your mind?
- My mind is all right, - said Ghai. - He's my blood brother. He once proved that he is better than me. On this venture I went not with you, but with him. I will protect his back.
- You are... - Ghash spat. - You are ...
- Enough! - We have got startled. It's Ughluk began to speak . - Enough!- He repeated. - Shaghrat! Shut up, before you say things to be ashamed of. You will go with them.
- What for? - Ghash astonished. - Why, azogh?
- You told me once that many of us can learn from this guy. It is time for you to learn from too!
Meanwhile, the Elf deftly removed the package with Ughluk from his shoulders and unwrapped it.
- I do not understand you, azogh. - Ghash shook his head. - I rarely mind you, but now you're wrong. We all will die, won't do that task for which we are here.
- There is no time to explain everything to you, boy, - said softly Ughluk. - And I forbid you to die. You all prohibited to die. Your lives do not belong to you. Take me up, Lingol.
The elf put Ughluk's hand on his shoulder and lifted him up to his feet. For the first and the last time I saw Ughluk standing. Withered, bony, with loose, dangling arm hanging helplessly to the knee, he was horryfying.
- I - Ughluk, - he said, and, suddenly, a senile rattling has gone from his voice and it sounded powerful and authoritative. - The Ughluk! The Agh Azogh Uruuk-Hai buurtharum, agh krimpatul. You! - He fixed his clawed stare on Ghash. - You! - He moved his gaze at Ghai and Oghr. -Will go with him, - for a few moments Ughluk's stare hid its claws and caressed me, - and will protect his back to the end of his life or yours! I have spoken!
- You are wrong, azogh !!! - Ghash cried, when the speech has ended. - We're almost there, and you make us to give up everything! What for?! We die without any benefit, and who then will start this all over again ?!
Ughluk turned his stare at him, and for a while they stood in silence, looking at each other. Ghash has lowered his eyes first.
- I - Ughluk. - Repeated the Azogh buurtharum. - I have spoken.
- Yes, I understand, - said crestfallen Ghash . - You ordered, I obey. I will follow Chsham and will protect his back to the end of his life or mine. Lead, Chsham! My heart is in your hands! - And he put his fist to his chest. Where the heart is.
- My heart is in your hands, - in dull whispers responded Ghai and Oghr, also putting their fists to the chests and bowing their heads in front of me.
- Lead them up, kid, - smiled to me Ughluk. - I hope you will bring them back to me unharmed. And do not hold a grudge against Ghash, soon he will understand everything by himself.
I looked around. My companions already were taking off their harnesses and jackets with shirts, leaving to themselves only weapons and flasks with water. Ghai was drawing the bow, stepping his foot on it and having rested one of it's limb against the ground. I also took off all unnecessary things, waited until Ghai checked the string, and said: "Let's get moved!"


The elf caught up with us in about a quarter of an hour. Overtook us, as if we were not running with all our might, and stood on the road.
- What else? - Ghash asked, panting from the fast running. - Azogh changed his mind?
- No, - the crop-eared shook his head. - He sent me with you.
-Did he want something to convey?
- Yes. He said, "Foreseen, but not imprinted way, and the footpath is twisting... ."
- What does it mean?
- He did not say. He said to pass it word for word.
- Is it all? Or something else?
- He told me to go with you.
- All right, - Ghash paused. - Do you need to arm yourself?
- If a bow ... - thoughtfully said the elf.
- Give him the bow, - ordered Ghash to Ghai.
- Yeah?! What else! - Ghai got outraged. - I won't be giving my bow to any ghama. He will live without it.
- I said, give it to him! - Shouted Ghash. - In his hands the bow will be more useful.
- I'm not giving it! - Ghai scowled. - The bow was made not for him. And do not shout at me! You're not the boss any more, you can not give me the orders.
- Yeah? - Surprised Ghash. - And who can order you?
- He! - Ghai pointed in my direction. - Did you forget what the azogh said? Now he is our chief. If he will order - I'll give the bow. But you cannot order.
- He's right, - Oghr nodded. - Now Chsham decides and orders.
Ghash just threw his hand up: "Decide!"
- Give it to him, please, - I said to Ghai and asked the elf. - Do you need the dagger?
The elf caressed the bow with fingertips, checked with a nail the sharpening of the hooks, pulled out of the quiver and examined one of the arrows.
- Perhaps not, - he said thoughtfully. - I think that a little later there will be a dagger for me.
Then some time was spent on bickering over who should run ahead, because Ghai did not want to run in front of the elf. He did not trust him. I did not argue and just started to ran the first. Elf - after me and after him - all the rest.

Maybe that arrangement saved our lives. In the hanging in the motionless morning air dust couldn't see far and I saw the Royal Rangers of Gondor only when it was less than fifty steps to them. A gang of good four dozen people suddenly appeared out the back of some low hill. They were following our trail and were running towards us. Seeing us, they shouted something, on the run unsheathed their short straight swords and accelerated the pace. I threw aside the kughri's scabbard and stooped, choosing who to meet first, but a someone small inside me understood that now we will die.
And then the elves music has started. The bowstring under the elf's fingers is singing a sorrowful melody and arrows were whistling their long, sad notes. No one did not make his ran to us ...
The last ranger, lanky, bearded brute, unbelievably looking like one who bothered me at the "Deaf boar", stopped a few steps away from us. He opened his mouth, perhaps, about to say "I give up!", but at this moment in his Adam's apple went an arrow up to the feathers. The shooter stood still. On the arrow's point, which emerged from the back of the head, swayed a ridiculous little hat. The corpse stood awhile, looking past me with bulging eyes, and fell on his face. Only the dust rose up, covering beating in agony bodies with indifferent gray cloud.
- Mam-ma dear ... - came behind me a stunned whisper of Oghr.
- You ... listen.. I do not know your name, - said Ghai in a choked voice . - Would you teach me later, to do like that, with the music ...
- It's easy, - said the crop-eared elf, rising from his knee. - You just have to practice with a bow every day. Not less than an hour. For two and a half thousand years.
- A-ah ... - plaintively stretched Ghai. - Can it be done in shorter time?
- I do not know, - said the elf. - I was taught like that when I was young . Now the bow needs to be discarded, it might break with any shot. It's amazing that the bow has lasted that long.
And he went on walking, as if dancing, between the dead human bodies, eyeing them carefully. Choosing the weapon for himself.
- Why are we staying? - As if nothing happened, asked Ghash. - What ogling? Have not seen dead bodies? Today will be a lot of them. Let's run, he will catch up with us.
- Run, - I nodded numbly. We rounded the blockage of corpses and ran on, but all the time I longed to look back and see what's out there is doing the crop-eared ghama, who is able to shoot "with the music."


I do not undertake to describe of what was happening in the village. Howls and clash of arms were heard even at the edge of the basin. The main battle was going at the well, but the separate battles could be seen and between the houses. I slowed down a little, deciding what do we do now. Ghash has overtaken me.
- I am - in front! - He shouted. - Ghai - left, Oghr - right, Chsham at the back. To the well, guys! Faster! Agh!Agh! Agh!

Who fought, he knows how frightening is in a combat.
It is fearsome to stand in the ranks, when arrows, like a rain, are falling from heaven.
It is terrifying, when Rohan's cavalry with bowing peaks is rushing on you at full speed.
It is fearful to be on the wall under hailstones of siege engines.
Scary, when you climb the wall on a rickety, tottering, ready to fall down ladder towards pouring down boiling water.
But nothing compares with the feeling when you come face to face with the enemy, and in a frenzy of his eyes you can see the reflection of your own terror. If you want to survive and to win - clench the heart, so it won't rupture, cast off your feelings and do what you must do.
The war is a hard work. Many drowned in my eyes in that sunny day. I growled and howled like a beast. I spun like a peg- top and swang like a bell-clapper. I was crouching and wheeling, springing up, like a ball, and falling down back, like a stone. I handed out right and left kicks and punches.
If you would know how many times I silently gave a praise to my unknown ancestors that have managed to preserve for posterity a fierce battle skill, disguising it in capers of a fun dance. Though, what I did that day was hardly looked like a dance. My kughri was living its own life, it was jauntily whistling, or was joyfully ringing, or angrily grating, or roughly and juicy slurping. It is, as blue as the night bird, fluttered from one palm to another, drew in the air complex curves and derisively painted on human bodies red thick-lipped smiles.
Gradually the fear and anger have left me. Perhaps that little person inside me, who was so afraid of death, could not bear his own fear and died. I was perceiving the surroundings without any feelings, and worked steadily and precise, just like at one time at the waymeet's smithery. Nearby Oghr was hacking silently and efficiently. Ghay, on the contrary, was constantly shouting something in a Black speech, threatening and hoarse. Ghash somehow was even managing to give orders to snagas, who happened to fight next to us. He also yelled in the Black speech, but in a strange way I understood it.
- Stay together! - He shouted, reflecting and throwing punches. - Attack in a bunch! Got wounded one - hit the next, the wounded will be finished later!
I do not know where was the elf during the fight, but when things were getting rough for me , from somewhere the arrow was coming and I was getting a few moments of respite.

And then all of it was over. It ended at once. Suddenly. I raised the sword for another blow, and found that it's no one to hit. The next enemy fell down with a spear in the back. Behind him stood a snaga with a covering only one eye slanted face bandage . No one alive in the gray-green cloak can be seen around here.
From a narrow slit in the wall of the well came unintelligible cries and a confident voice of Ghash. In a dusty haze has emerged a crop-eared elf with a gondor's sword in the hands and, by carelessly poking someone, who fell out of the passageway, he slipped inside. Screams behind the wall increased at first, and then began to subside.
I leaned against the wall, first by the side, and then turned my back to it and slid down, sat with outstretched legs right in the dust . The body does not feel anything. Just nothing. Nearby, in two steps away, Oghr was thrashing on the ground. He was sobbing loudly and pounding the earth with his fists. Staggering, from the passage in the wall came out Ghai, he looked around, cautiously walked past Oghr and approached me.
- You're covered in blood, - I told him.
- Not mine, - he tried to wave dismissively, but only dropped kughri and sat down next to me.- You too...
I looked at myself. Indeed, I was all over covered with drying brown muck , from the soles of the boots to the tips of hair on my head.
-Not mine too, - I said and nodded at abating Oghr. - What's wrong with him?
- He has such comedown. - Ghai said, taking out a bottle with shaghu. - He does not like to kill ...
- Do you like it?
- Well, who could like it ... - Ghai took a few sips and gave me the bottle. - But at least I am not such shaky now. Only after the first time ...
- I was shaking too, - I swallowed a sip, the fiery moisture flowed in the throat like water, without causing intoxication, - when I killed the bearded in the mountains. Now I feel nothing. Just nothing. Only tired, as if after swinging a hammer in the smithy.
- Well, be glad, that like this. - Sleepily said Ghai. - Finish shaghu.
- What about Ghash and Oghr?
- Ghash is provident, he has more. - Ghai started to rise. - I will go to him. He will be interrogating the wounded. Must help.
I shuddered, remembering how had been questioned the wounded rohirrim.
Around were walking sleepy, sluggish snagas. From time to time someone of them would poke with a spear one of the bodies lying about. Sometimes after such poke would come cries.

The crop-eared elf came over, stuck into the ground the jagged sword, up to the hilt covered with blood, and lowered himself next to me .
- What are they doing? - I asked him.
- Finishing off the wounded, - he replied indifferently.
- I understand, - I shook my head. - I wanted to ask, why after everything was over?
- And what can be done with them? - The elf answered with a question . - I might be able to help to some of them. But not to all. In this heat their wounds soon got fouled. So it can be considered as a mercy.
- Mercy? - I was surprised. - I know it is a prowess to kill the enemy in a battle, but to finish off the wounded like this is an abomination.
- They won't survive anyway, - the elf smiled sadly. - There is no one to treat them and to care for them. Right now you can not explain to snagas why it is unnecessary to kill the enemies. They are killing their own fear. You've already done what you could, Halfling. You fought bravely.
- You too.
- Not worth of talking about it, - the elf shook his head. - In my life I have killed a lot more orcs than saved today. I have a long life
- Why? - I asked. - I mean, why are you saving them?
- Because one day I realized that they are our children. Our miserable, exhausted children. Morgoth is the great deceiver. He was not able to create, but was able to distort someone else's creation. When children of the deceived elves have returned to us, we greeted them with arrows. We could not do otherwise, and Morgoth knew it. He knew how unbearable for us is this living mockery. And this joke was on us, because it turned out into such a long and terrible deception. We thought that we fight against evil, but fought with our own distorted reflection. With our children.
- But they're allied with Melkor.
- Do you know the real name of Morgoth? - Surprised the elf. I nodded.
- And where else they could look for a help? They hated him as much as we do, and, perhaps, even stronger, but they wanted to live. To survive. They are not inherited from their cheated parents the eternal life, but they wanted to live that still remaining the brief one. We could help them, but we do not understand them, did not want to understand. We did not want to make the effort. We were blinded by our own pride. We had the Light, that they have lost. We pushed them into the arms of those they hated. Then a new generation came, and the beginning was forgotten because everyone really wants to forget it. But the war has remained. We fought with them, thinking that we are protecting goodness and light, but, in fact, in the chorus of Ainur we sang the song contrived by Melkor. We have been given the Light, and we squandered it on a pointless war with our own children and on trifling trinkets: stones, rings.
- Are you talking about the Rings of Power?
- Do you know about it? - This time the elf was not even surprised.
- Two of my grandfathers were in the Ringbearer's squad. One of them with Frodo Baggins has reached Orodruin crevices.
- You belong to the great race, Halfling. Woe to one, who will be misled by your look. When I saw your relatives at the Council of Elrond the Wise, I, too, had been deceived by their amusing appearance. Just like the Wise, however.
- You were at the council of Elrond? - It came my turn to be surprised.
- Yes, - nodded thoughtfully the elf. - I was in Legolas' retinue and stood at the back of his chair, when has been hold a discussion of the fate of Ardia.
- Did Legolas have the retinue? - I could not remember whether this was mentioned in the Red Book.
- Surely you don't think that the son of the Lord of Thranduil could embark on a long and dangerous journey alone? Of course, he had the retinue, and I was also in it. Only later, when the Wise have decided to send the Ring to Gondor, Legolas resolved not take anyone with him, since already it was no need in that. Mithrandir, the Grey Wizard, who bore the Ring of Fire and possessed the gift of a fiery persuasion, was a worthy companion for the prince of the Firstborn. Next to him Legolas has no one to fear.
- They nearly have got killed in Moria, - I replied. - When they meet with the Balrog.
- Balrog ... - the elf grinned. - Balrog is just a balrog. Small demon of the fire element. What could he do to Maya? Especially to the Maya, who is wearing Naria. And Mithrandir is the Maya, his power is only slightly inferior to the power of the Valar. With a word he can move mountains and make rivers stop . Even Legolas would overtake the Balrog. Not by himself only, of course, but with the help of people and the dwarf, that were there. He could. Before that he had happened to meet with these fiery creatures in the battles. But Mithrandir could simply dispel the Balrog into a smoke with just one his exhale. The whole way through Moria was just a whim of the Grey Wizard. There was a much easier way to get to Gondor. One had only to turn to the north of Rivendell, walk the Upper Pass, which was guarded by beorings, and from Carrock go down Anduin on boats to very Osgiliath. But for some reason Mithrandir wanted to go the hard way. Inscrutable are the ways of the Wise.
- Wait, - I mused. - You say "Gondor". But at the Council it was decided to take the Ring to the Mount Doom!
- So it was said to those who do not have the wisdom - The elf laughed. - The ring just cannot be left in Rivendell. The Nazgul would find out about it and Curunir the White Wizard too . If the Ring would remain in Rivendell, they could form an alliance in order to get it. The same could happen if the Ring was sent to the Grey Havens or Lothlorien. I doubt that Cirdan or Galadriel would want to keep the Ring for themselves. Thranduil did not want to. He understood that this will bring the war in the domain of the Firstborn . Of course, neither the White Wizard, nor the Nazgul, or even together they would not have enough strength to deal with us, but for it we would have to pay no small price. Already, starting from the date of creation of the world, it was shed too much of the precious blood of the Firstborn But most importantly that, in order the three other rings were able to operate at full capacity, the fourth one should have an owner. The son of the Steward of Gondor, a descendant of the King of Gondor and four of the Keepers people . Does not matter who of them would seize the Ring. The Wise forethought any outcome.
- What if the Ring had really got to Gondor?
- Then all the Nazgul's malice and the power of the White Wizard would fall on it. In fact, this is what had happened in the end.
- But the king of Gondor, had he taken a possession of the Ring, would not he be dangerous for the Firstborn? Under the influence of the Ring he could turn into a monster far more terrible and vicious than Nazgul. And more strong.
- I see, - said the elf. - You know about the Ring, but you do not know what it is.The Ring of Sauron itself is just the thing. The thing that cannot have its own will. This is what the orcs, - elf shook his head, pointing at the surrounding - called "ghr"- "the thing which is multiply the power." Air, water, fire ... - What's missing? - Suddenly he asked quickly.
- Earth, - I replied , after a little thought. - Air, water, fire and earth - four elements from which the world was created. What the Ring has to do with it?
- One ring - to determine, one ring- to foreknow, one - to inspire, and one - to connect them all, - said the elf - When ships of Númenor began to appear at the shores of Middle-earth, Sauron the Dark came to Gil-Galad and suggested an alliance against Númenoreans. Gil-Galad knew that Sauron has been a servant of Melkor, the eternal enemy of the Firstborn, and therefore refused. He had refused then. But the númenoreans ships continued to arrive, they were building their cities and fortresses in the Middle-earth, they are competing with us in all things, and it became clear that they want to own all of the Middle-earth. Would be anywhere in their world a place for us? And how the Great Lords of the Firstborn might acknowledge the supremacy of the human King? But he did not want to concede to their power. Numenor was strong with courage of its soldiers, knowledge of the wise and determination of the rulers. The war with them would create rivers of blood of the Firstborn. The precious blood. And Sauron was the Maya, the same as Curunir and Mithrandir, who came later . His power and knowledge was hard to ignore. He served once Melkor, but then Morgoth had already been driven out of this world. Shunned by us. And then Gil-Galad agreed to the union. The union, which would have merge the might of the Maya and the power of firstborn's magic. An invaluable knowledge about the world and the ability to change it .
- So it was the union, - I said. - And the Ring of Earth went to Sauron .
- Yes, - nodded the elf. - As the earth combines the remaining elements, so the ring of Earth united all the others, linking them in a single chain. Four Ringbearers gained power over the mind and the will of mortals, over all, who wore the lesser rings, and therefore gained the power over all Middle-earth. The force, which was capable to turn the audacity of Numenor into dust.
- Are the lesser rings - the rings of people and dwarves? - I asked. - Nine and seven?
- Yes, - confirmed the elf. - They have been forged first. Artful were Eregion's goldsmiths and a considerable knowledge they have got from Sauron, but, in addition to the knowledge, an experience is needed . The earliest, lesser rings had helped to get it. The Seven rings we have presented the Dwarves Kings and have stopped the lengthy feud between the two races, which began some long time ago over the Nauglamir. There was only a memory of it. Since then, the children of the First Smith Aule were always fighting on our side. The Nine Rings Sauron gave to people. He chose the mighty kings and wise magicians to multiply their strength and wisdom. None of us couldn't understand, then, why he chooses only those who is old and close to the edge of the life.The Firstborn does not understand the human fear of death. Only many years later, we learned the secret.The Rings extended, if not a life, then an existence to those people, and for that, many of them were ready for anything. This is how Sauron created the Nazgul - the faithful servants of his Ring.
- But if all of it was true, as you say, the Nazgul had to submit to all, who wear the Rings of the Elements.- I said.
- So how it was at first, - said the elf,- as long as they have not been Nazgul. But Sauron deceived us. He altered the spell which was written on the Ring by masters of Eregion , and put on Ardia a new spell. He woved into his spell stones of the Mount Doom's slopes, fire of its bowels, poisoned air above it, and poisoned vapors of its streams.
- That's why the inscription on the Ring was in elven runes, but in the language of Orcs, - I guessed. - He changed the inscription that was before.
- You're right, Halfling, - the elf smiled sadly. - He turned to the language of Orcs, because in it many of the words have not one, but several meanings. Often these meanings are linked in a very whimsical ways. He found a word that meant not only the "link", but also "force" and "order". He even had to come up with a written language for the orcs to be able to write a word. However, this is just one of his dastardly deeds. It can not be compared with the Ring.
- You said that the Ring - "ghr", the "thing, multiplying the power," - I mused. - Then it multiplied Sauron's ability to command.
- After the new spell every his desire, the most fleeting thought, could be the order to anyone whom his will could reach. Orders that are impossible to disobey. Only the owners of three other rings can protect themselves from this. - The elf shook his head. - But if it was only that. After all the Rings were linked into a single chain.The Ring of Air increases the ability to make wise decisions, the Ring of Water - the ability to providence, the Ring of Fire gave the gift of persuasion. Sauron was getting all of this too. In lesser way than the owners of these rings, but still ...
- And then you went to the war with him?
- Not right away. It is hard to fight an enemy that can read your thoughts. Through the Ring Sauron can penetrate into the minds of other Ringbearers. Not Galadriel, nor Cirdan or even Gil-Galad could resist him alone. He is the Maya.
- Wouldn't be simplier, just remove the Rings? - I was surprised. - And destroy? If the smiths of Eregion had made them, they could destroy. The chain would be broken and Sauron would have remained with nothing.
- It was not so easy to do, as you think, Halfling . The rings were made for opposing Numenor. But the Numenoreans have not disappeared. And the first thing what Sauron did after the spell changed, he with the army of Mordor Orcs attacked Eregion.
The knowledge about the rings was lost along with those who made them. We had to wait. The Wise knew that the Kings of Numenor and Sauron the Dark will be too cramped in the Middle-earth. We were waiting for them to clash and to weaken each other. Besides, for someone, who once donned the Great Ring, it was almost impossible to part with it. The stronger and wiser the ringbearer was, the more difficult it was for him. The Rings were given a great strength to their owners. The greater was the power and the will of the owner - the more intense was an influence of the Ring. Of all mortals only Bilbo Baggins was able to give the Ring to another, but he just could not resist the will of Mithrandir. Without Mithrandir, without the aid of his destructional will, multiplied by Naria , Bilbo would not do it. Nobody could.
- My grandfather wore the Ring of Sauron, - I replied. - And he gave it out. By himself. Nobody forced him. The keeper, Frodo Baggins, only asked him about it.
- Yes? - Astonished the elf. - I've never heard of it. If this is true, then you lead your race from the greatest of mortals. Only two were able to give belonging to them the Great Ring. Cirdan and Gil-galad. But only Cirdan managed to give it at the will. Gil-galad was forced to do it by a death. And up to his last moments he did not want to take off the Ring. I saw it with my own eyes.
- You've seen?!
- If I was then at least five steps closer ... - sighed the elf, not paying attention to my exclamation. - Then the Ring would be given to me, not to Elrond. I still remember the expression on Gil-Galad's face , when he took Vilia off the finger. But he remembered that the ring should be given voluntarily. If it will be removed from his dead body, then calamities for the Firstborn will be immeasurable. So he did it. Elrond was closest to him. That's funny. Elrond - the half-blood, for whom to carry the sword for Gil-Galad has been the greatest honor, has received a gift, worthy only of princes and became one of them. The First among them.The grimace of fate worthy of Morgoth.
- I do not understand, - I thought. - Why the Ring or the Rings had to be given out? What's the mystery in here?
- No mystery in here, - the elf shrugged. -The Rings are kind of memorizing their owners. The one who owns the Great Ring had to put it on the finger on the next owner. Then it would serve him well, as true as with the first owner. But if this is not done, then the worst would have happened. The Ring would just continue to give a strength to everyone, who approached it. Whoever wore it - more, the one who just had been close by - less.
- So what? - I was surprised. - What's so horrible about it?
- Everything, - said the elf.- The Rings, that have not been given, were not simply multiplied the power of those, who wore them, they had the same influence on anyone, who happened to be nearby. The one who was getting the Ring of Sauron, was beginning to feel that all of his concealed fears, of which he ashamed to admit even to himself, all his hidden desires, that that he even not aware of, suddenly were coming to him as a command, as a foreign oppressive will, which is impossible not to comply. And he is getting the commands from the thoughts of others, too. Only weaker. It made mad the prince of Gondor Isildur and many others after him. The same thing was also with the lesser rings. They often changed owners. It was enough to break the rule just once, and each subsequent owner of the ring was getting into a distorted world. The more owners that ring changed, the worse it was getting. So this is how other nazgul appeared and how the dwarves developed an immoderate greed .
- And you knew about all of this right from the beginning? - I asked.
- No. But we learned and understood with time.
- So why you have not broken the chain? Why no Cirdan, or Galadriel, or Elrond, why no one threw his ring into the mouth of the Mount Doom when the battle with Sauron has ended ? In fact, there were none to stop them.
- Throw it in the Orodruin and break the chain? What for? Sauron was defeated, Numenor, or rather what was left of it, from an enemy has become an ally. What could threaten the Firstborn? The son of the King of Gondor, who seized Ardia? It's a pity that nobody could prevent it from happening and Elrond did not know what he has got as a gift. Cirdan, same as Gil-Galad, overstrained himself in the battle with the will of Sauron and barely survived. Galadriel has not been at the Orodruin, but even if she was there, she would hardly be able to move. Believe me, even with the united will of the three great Ringbearers was not easy to resist the will of the Maya and the strength of his ring. It was barely enough to deprive him of the ability to use magic in a combat and get to fight as a regular soldier. The Firstborn paid the great price for the victory. The heavy and terrible price.
Why we had to give up everything and to destroy by ourselves what have been created with the help of the Rings, and what could be created in the future? Sauron was cast down. His will was broken in the fight with Gil-Galad, Galadriel and Cirdan. He had lost his ring, and with it lost attached to its power. He became so weak that he had lost even his appearance. From that day he could be present in Arda only as a clot of fire, but it was not enough for the actions . He has not been able to subjugate no one ever.
- What about Nazgul? He had Nazgul.
- Or rather, they had him. It is an unenviable fate for the eternal Maya to be an advisor to mortals who drag out a miserable existence of ghosts. Nazgul could be ordered through the rings, but without Ardia Sauron, who lost his power and will, could not supervise them. Nobody could. For this someone had to own Ardia. But anyone who took possession of the Ring after Sauron, was too quickly becoming a wretched madman. Who knows what would have happened to the Firstborn, if the Wise not found a way out.They found the Keepers people - the little mortals, who were interested in nothing outside of their world. The Keepers did not aspire to the power, and it was the most important. When such mortal would receive the Ring, he uses it for his small pleasures, not striving for something bigger than that. And the world came into a balance. Only occasionally the Nazgul were disturbing it, but they were being contained fairly quickly, each time in no more than one mortal's year or two.
- A birthday gift. - I said sadly. - Our people do not give presents for those who have birthdays. He gives himself the gifts to the guests. If I would recieve from someone's birthday a ring that grants wishes, I would have remembered it all my life.
- What are you talking about? - The elf distracted from his memories.
- About nothing. - I replied. - I just remembered something. Did your Wise think about the Keepers themselves? About into what the ring was turning them?
- Do you think that the balance of the world is not worth of this small sacrifice? Mortals are mortal. Does it matter what happens to the life of a mortal, if he will die anyway. Besides, no one forced them to wear the Ring. They used it on their own will. But the chain was closed, and the Great Three could improve the world.
- Apparently, - I became disgusted. - If the Ring has got to Gondor, a war would have started in there, which has begun any way, and its new owner would quickly become insane. If it had come to one of my kind, - I hesitated, - it would be the same with him, as had happened to the other Keepers. But what if it would fall into the hands of the Orcs in Mordor? Or, then worse, the Nazgul?
- Then the war would begin in Mordor. The will of the Three would be enough to break the will of any new Ardia's owner, as it was once had happened with Sauron. Let along any man or orc. Even Saruman, if he would receive Ardia, could not withstand: after all, now among the Three was Mithrandir. But if the Nazgul have got the Ring , the most likely would happened what had happened. They would throw it in the Mount Doom.
- What for? - I was surprised. - I understand that Sauron could not use his ring again ?
The elf nodded.
- So, the Nazgul were looking for it for themselves. Why would they want to throw it in the fire?
- They thought it would make them free. They felt the power of the Ring, but knew that none of them could own it. They decided to get rid of it in order to get rid of the influence of an alien to them will. They were right. The fire of the Mount Doom burned Ardia, Nazgul became free. From everything.


The elf could be prolonging the memories of his eternal life for a long time, but we were interrupted. Ghash with Ghai showed up, both with smiles from ear to ear, and excitedly began to tell me about how well we have done that we came back
Almost all of young snagas got perished, but they laid down the full ordo of rangers, in the number of two hundred people. Most important that now the whole desert will know about this fight and that the King of Gondor ordered to destroy the wells. Now the rangers will be tracked down prior, in the mountains, and none of them for sure won't penetrate into the depth of Mordor alive. Also Ghiryzhsh Shin-Nagh came in, leading a small gang of orcs, outfited with weapons of Gondor. He stood on his knees in front of me and for a long time was saying something in a quick patter. Ghash was translating.
I was feebly nodding and saying something in response.Then there was a general wash. We washed off from ourselves the blood of defeated . I was given the opportunity to do it first.
All this I did in a distracted state, I was thinking about what had been said by the crop-eared ghama.
I came to my senses closer to the sunset, when I saw a familiar bactr, which two snagas were led by the reins to the well . The baktr was forced to kneel and lay on stomach, and then from his back was removed a gray buurgha bundle. They put it in the dust and carefully unwrapped. In the bundle laid the body . The body of Ughluk. He was dead.

Last edited by Olmer : 12-25-2015 at 11:29 PM.
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Old 02-26-2016, 03:38 PM   #42
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Ughluk was buried in the morning of the next day. He was buried in a simple way, without honors, goodbyes and words, as mundane as would be buried killed in action snaga. The only honor that was done to his body was a private, not a common, grave. At that time all of it seemed to me absurd. The bony body was wrapped in a buurgha, buried, earth over the grave was trampled and on top of it was put a boulder. If you get away from the grave on ten paces, you already be struggling to find it. Walk away for a hundredth, and you won't find it ever. A lot of stones scattered in the desert. Who can say how many graves are hidden beneath these stones... But "only alive need compassion." Uruuk-Hai does not cry for the dead, maybe, only sometimes when he all alone with himself. He just remember the dead.
- I should not leave him for so long and so far away, - said the elf .
- It is useless to talk about it now, - said Ghash. - He knew it, as well as you. If he has decided that he had lived enough - no need to think about it now. Forgive me, azogh. Again you proved to be right. Thank you for this lesson.
-Where will you go now, Lingol? - He asked the elf.
- I do not know, - the elf adjusted his sword's sash. - If I can not be with you, probably, to the West. To the Grey Havens. Cirdan the Shipwright once vowed that he would be the last firstborn leaving the Middle-earth. It is still a place for me on his ships .
- You do not have to go with us. This is our business. Only ours.
- According to the custom ghama should be killed if one, to whom he belonged, dies. Are you really letting me go? - The elf looked at Ghash and, seems to me, in his voice was something strange.
- Are you ready to meet your death, the firstborn? - Ghash smiled and looked at the elf. Right in the eyes.
They stood for a while, and then the crop-eared looked away.
-No, - he said, trying to calm down his voice. - Not ready. Before, I knew exactly what would happen if I'll die, then I will go to the palace of Mandos. I felt it with all my being. But now I do not know. Something changed in the world. Now I can only believe.
- We all can only believe, - Ghash sighed. - Just believe ...
I did not see the movement of shaghrat. That is I saw, but at the end, when the dark steel of kughri already slashed the throat of the crop-eared.
The elf swayed and turned gray on face, his head fell back, and on the neck has appeared a thin scarlet strip, which immediately begin to ooze small drops. I imagined how, silly blinking, will roll in the dust the crop-eared ghama's head, and felt no pity.
- According to the custom, - said Ghash, looking at the elf, - a ghama's blood must be shed on the grave of the person to whom he belonged. Blood was spilled. Your slavery is ended, Lingol. Goodbye.
- I сould be helpful to you, - said the elf. - Who knows what awaits you in the dungeons of Barad-Dur.
- Whatever is awaiting for us, - said coldly Ghash, - you did not make your songs about it. This is our business. Only ours. I have spoken.
And the elf was gone. We stood silently for a little while, and then walked away, too. Only a stone with drops of blood on it was left in there ...

- Why did you kill the crop-eared? - I asked Ghash when we moved far enough.
- Did you understand that I killed him? - He asked instead of answering.
- I did, if I'm asking.
- Do you feel sorry for him?
- No. But I want to understand you better.
- I guess, I could not forgive him. His race. Ughluk could. Therefore, he could manage him. For this I have neither the wisdom, nor the strength. I would manage for a few days, but these days means nothing... And he did not even realize that he was killed. He spent many years with us and still did not understand. He will get to the Grey Havens sail away to the West and will never know that his life has remained in here.
- I wish you, indeed, would kill him, - I said. - It would be more honest, than like this: pretending to show forgiveness, but not forgive.
- You've changed, - sighed Ghash. - You have changed a lot during this summer.
- And you? - I asked. - Did you stay the same?
- No, - he sighed again. - I have changed too. Now I know that the life of unborn children is more important than the knowledge of the dead, and even than our lives. That in your doings you cannot be like the one, who is considered as an enemy. And something else, something which I know, but cannot put the name on it.
- What are you getting so teary about? - Interfered in our conversation Ghai. - Found whom to mourn! He should be finished as soon as the azogh brought dead. A slave cannot be with a weapon. The one, who agreed to be a slave, could not be liberated. Let alone the pointy-eared . He would have strangled us all in the desert. Or made us quarrel with each other .
- Shut up, - advised him Ghash. - Talking about what you don't understand.
- Of course, - grimaced Ghai. - Only you two are so smart. Making wise discussions about wise reasoning. You'd better ask Chsham what was he talking about with the crop-eared .
- You talked to him? - Asked me Ghash.
- Yes - I said. - After the battle.
- And what did he say to you?
- That Orcs are elves children.
- I see ... - drawled Ghash. - "Our children, our miserable, exhausted children." We have heard this song more than once. And what else?
- He was telling about the Ring. Remember, you said you have read ...
- O-ke-e-y, -Ghash stopped and made me stop. - Come, look at me. His face became hard.
- Look me in the eyes. Did he tell you about the Keepers people? About the fact that the Ring had to get to Gondor?
- He was talking about a lot of things, - I replied. - About this too. I became so disgusted that I was ready to kill him myself.
- You? - Astonished Ghash. - Why?
- Why, why! - I got angry. - What you would feel, if you have been told that your people are just someone's mindless toy? A hanger for their damned Rings. We were making legends about this, the book was written, but it turns out to be all a lie. The lie for gullible fools.
- I got it, - nodded Ghash. - I see, he filled up with crap both your ears. Up to the rim. So, that's why I'm seeing that you are not quite yourself and can not understand what is splashing there, in your eyes. Throw it all out of the head.
- What? - I did not understand. - What to throw out?
- All that he had told you. Throw away. Forget. Witchery is it.
- Witchery? - Again, I did not understand. - As it is, a witchery?
-Just like this. The witchery. Luuk. Enchantment of the pointy-eared.
- Enchantment? But he was not conjuring at all. We just talked.
- That's it. Just talked. This is the spell. He enchanted you. Hexed. We should cut his head off. Really. Right away. To prevent others from the infection of the slavery. Remember, all that he told you is a nonsense. Maybe there are a couple of drops of the pointy-eared blood in me and the guys, - Ghash pointed at Ghai and Oghr.- But we don't give a damn about it. We know our kin not by the blood they have, but by the deeds in their life. The pointy-eared will never understand it, and until the end of the eternity will be boasting with their blood .
And don't you dare to call your relatives the "hangers", don't dare even to think. No matter in what games the pointy-eared with the eternal wizards were played, the chain of the Rings was broken . The world has stopped to get covered with mold and began to live again. And that had been done by your grandfather. He dragged the Keeper on his back to the crevices of Mount Doom. He did not let the Keeper to get mad. And he's the only one, you hear, only one, who wore one of those damned Rings and was able to give it up. By himself, when nothing urged him to do it. This is the sort of thing which should be remembered. And remembered with respect. Not everyone could do what your grandfather did. Do you understand? But he did it. No one would be able to do the bigger deed, what he did for his children and grandchildren.
Worthless to have regrets about the past, it has already passed. It should only to be remembered and should be told about it to the children, so they won't repeat once made mistakes. And now forget about the crop-eared. He chose a slavery and got what he chose Now for him is only the past. But for us also the future.

His words did not scatter the fog of delusion created by the crop-eared slave. But they struck the hole in it . For me still it was dark around, the sun has not yet risen, but I began to see the light again .
- Where are we going now? - I asked Ghash, shaking off this stupor. - That you should know, - he laughed. - You are deciding now.
- Why me?
- Who else? The azogh has ordered us to protect your back to the end of your life or ours. We agreed. You are alive. Now you have to decide where you go. We should go after you.
-But Ughluk told just about the fight, - I shook my head. - The fight is over. Now everything should be as it used to be.
- Nothing ever happens "as it used to be", - seriously replied Ghash. - We said, "Yes" and you, too, did not mind. Now it is all your decision.
- Well ... - I do not like cursing, but I spoke the words that would prefer not to repeat. - What if I won't go to the Black Tower?
- Then I'll have to break the word. - Ghash said. - I will go to there anyway and do what I planed to do from the beginning.
- I'll go with Ghash,- is said Oghr. - And then I'll have to make a sheopp, because one, who violates his word, is not worthy of life.
- And you too? - I asked Ghash, already knowing what the answer would be.
- No, - he shook his head. - Shaghrats are not allowed to die. Even in order to prevent torture or shame. All my actions will be judged in Shaghbuurth, if I will come back.
- I'm with you, - said Ghai. - I went to this trip for you and promised to protect your back even without oaths to azogh. The journey is not yet over. - Can not I release you from this oath?
- Every man frees by himself from the vows. We said our "yes" not to you and not even to the azogh. We said to ourselves and to the Impartial One.
- I see, - I cannot say that I was surprised. I was expecting something like this . - Are we ready for the road?
- No, - Oghr answered for all . - The blades should be checked after the fight and re-sharpened, if necessary.
- The crop-eared broke my bow,- complained Ghai. - I've got the arrows for myself, but I have to ask for the bow in the village, they have collected a lot of them after the fight.
-We can leave part of the water and food supplies, - added Ghash. - The group is smaller now. Or we even can take someone else with us. This guy, for example, Shin-Nagh. With a local guide we can go at night, they're picking up the trail by smell. We will cover the distance quickly.
- Can you do that all until the evening? - I asked.
- We can, - they said almost in unison.
- Then let do it this way. Oghr will take care of the blades. Ghash will talk to Ghiryzhsh. Ghai will pick up a bow and will be responsible for equipment and provision. Are we definitely being able to go at night? Won't we get lost, seems there is nothing to catch the eye. - Even if at the night we will veer off the way, the Mountain can be seen during the day, and from it - the Black Tower. So we won't get lost, - said Ghash,
- I see. Then by the evening we should be ready.
They stood in front of me in line, put their fists to the chests and said together:
-Yes. Understood. We'll be ready.

They did not let Ghiryzhsh Shin-Nag to join us. Rather, they let him stay with us for one night and one day. He brought us to the place, where in the daytime could be seen the top of the Black Tower. Then we continued on moving by ourselves. We were given a second bactr and they said that we do not have to return one of them , but to use for meat, if it comes to the pinch. Since you can ride on the bactr together, the last part of the journey was with almost all comfort. Anyway, it went a lot easier than I have expected.
Unlike my companions, I could not distinguish the Black Tower in the distance for a long time. I saw it when was less than a day to the end of our journey. The structure was monumental. The impression is only strengthened when we approached it. From a distance it seemed like a thick black column in the middle of gray desert.
The bactrs were unhurriedly moving their paws, and, gradually, the column was becoming more and more thicker and higher, until it turned into a tower hundred feet in height and in the same numbers at the bottom, made by blocks of the black stone. The top of the tower was crowned with a fifty feet metallic structure of nine pillars, tilted to the middle, on which was resting a grid sphere.
When we came to the very base of the tower, it turned out that it has no doors and no windows. Even the gaps between the black stones were barely visible. For a moment I thought that the work of cracksman-burglar is beyond my ability.
- And where can be an entrance? - I asked Ghash, when we camped at the base of the tower. - Are there any map or parchment? Where should we find it? Should we start tapping the wall?
- The entrance is on the top, - he said, and signaled with hand to Oghr. - According to the old books of Isengard, there were several gates at the base of the tower and one on its very top. No one knows how deep you have to dig to the base. Maybe not so much: the tower stood on a hill, and the rest of the city - in a hollow. But we are too few to waste energy on digging, we will go through the top.
- So? - I lifted my head and looked up. The black wall was almost smooth, with sparse, barely visible seams. - I think it is not easy to get up.
- It's easier than it sounds, - Ghash laughed. - Our guys already happened to get there, they just were not able to enter. Oghr! Come on, get the hooks!
- Already, - lazily replied upcoming Oghr. - Hooks, hammer, carry all gears.
He threw at Ghash's feet a coiled cord , thundering bunch of iron hooks, and handed him a hammer on a long handle.
-Are you gonna climb up?
-It is no one else, - said shaghrat, tying the cord around his waist. - For this purpose in the ataghan were two guys from Gundabad . But where are they now ...
- Maybe I can? At the Ash mountains I was doing better than you. - I felt it was time to take up a job assigned to me.
- If I'll fall, then you will go, - agreed Ghash. - You will stay at the bottom and carefully watch how I climb up and will hold the rope at the same time. Throwing off his boots, he walked around the tower, at each step, feeling the wall, searching for the path with which the tower has been climbed before him.
When in one of the joints between the blocks has been found a hole Ghash chuckled with satisfaction and drove in his first hook. Then I had to work as a ladder. Sitting on my shoulders, he hammered the second and third hooks.
Farther up he did not need my help. He threaded a cord into the loop of the upper hook, got to the lower hook, stepped on the middle one, pulled himself up, straightened up, and remained standing, leaning slightly away from the wall and holding at the upper hook, which was at his belt level.
-Throw the cord over your shoulders, - he said to me, - and stand with your feet on both ends, you will be slowly releasing it when I pull. If I will break loose, you hold tightly and do not step off the cord. Got it? I nodded and did as he told me. The work was simple. I just need not to interfere while Ghash was making the next step up. The shaghrat climbed slowly, thoroughly hammering each hook and carefully checking how it holds. When Ghash reached the platform at the top, on the wall behind him was left a staircase of the hammered in the wall hooks with the stretched between them cord.
- Well, the cracksman! - He called to me from above. - Come here, your work begins.
I looked at the rope ladder on the black side of the tower. It is no hobbit's work to climb the steep walls, but this summer I've done so many unhobbit's things ...
- Wait! - Ghash stopped me, when I set a foot on the first step. - I will fix something in here. Ghai! Where are you? Help Chsham!
- Running, rushing, even the boots fly off the feet .- Ghai responded, slowly approaching me. - What do you want?
- Throw me a spider-thread. - Ghash stuck his head out from behind the iron pillar at the top . - And make a stirrup to the guy, he can not do it.
- Easily, - Ghai ran to our encampment and brought his bow and another coil of cord. Then he took from the belt's bag a ball of thin thread, tied it to the tip of the arrow and fired up. The arrow had circumscribed an arch and disappeared over the edge of the tower landing.
- There is! - Came from the top. - Tie the cord!
- Already! - Ghai said, tying a spider-thread to the cord. - Pull!
The coil began to unwind, like a snake crawling up. After a few moments the free end fell off the top .
- Could you tie up my boots at the same time?
- I'll send them with Chsham, - promised Ghai, took my kughri, pulled the end of the cord through the rings on the scabbard and the hilt and sat me on the makeshift big stirrup.
- Oghr! Come here, need to raise Chsham up!
- I'm not sick in the head to lift up this "chunk" by hand to such a height, - said Oghr, coming from the back of the tower and leading a bactr by the reins. - Look at him, his shoulders are wider than mine, and such a paunch he grew out...
Involuntarily, I looked at myself. About my belly Oghr said just to be witty.
- Hold to the cord with both hands, - said Ghai, tying the other end of the cord to the bactr, - legs push up against the wall and walk very-very fast, otherwise your nose will drive on the wall all ways up.
I wanted to nod, but Oghr moved the baktr, and I was on the top of the tower, faster than saying "Mama!".


At the topt was empty and windy . From the massive teeth-like bases around the edge of the platform obliquely raised upward red from rust pillars in half-wrap thickness. The tops of the pillars propped up a grid ball in size of three arm spans, but not rusty, and covered in a greenish tinge. Inside the ball was nothing in sight, seems, it was empty.
- Look around, - said Ghash, taking his boots from me . - The entrance is here, that we do know for sure. It is written in the books, that the Nazgul, when flying on theirs winged creature, used the upper entrance of the Tower of the Fiery Eye. But we do not know how they were getting in.
- You have fresh eyes. Look.
- Is this precisely that tower? - I asked, walking around the area . - Maybe there's another one?
- No, - shook his head Ghash. - No others are in here. The towers are not built in the desert. The whole this city was an one-storey. From the gate and up to Nurnon it is the only tower. After the volcano eruption the desert has changed, the old maps are lying, but if you look at what has not changed: the mountain, lake Nurnon, Spider Pass - by that the tower is standing where it should be. Direction and distance - everything is matching.
- What about the town? - I looked at the surrounding tower desert. - No trace of the city in there.
- I told you, the city was in a concave. The houses in here have always been built in the valleys - less of the wind and closer to the water, when the wells needed to be dug. Now everything is under the sand, and no one knows how much of this sand lies over the rooftops. But the underground should be free. In here, in thousands years so many tunnels were dug up ... All stones for the construction of the city was mined from beneath it. A lot of things should be in these caverns.
- I see. - I pointed to a roughly carved image of the eye on the closest to me tooth . - What's this?
- It is a sign of the Fiery Eye, - said Ghash coming up. - It is on all nine teeth, under each pillar.
- Why the rim around the iris is green? - I asked. - If the Eye is fiery red, then the ring around the pupil should be red, but it's green ...
- I do not know, - Ghash shrugged. - In books of Isengard we found very little about this tower and nothing about those eyes. Under one of them still remained an inscription. Under that one.
- Show to me.
The inscription was carved on the stone in crooked, angular runes of the Black speech. Four short lines.
- I wish I could know what is written.
- We know, - heave a sigh Ghash. - Only it's not helping.
His face got a strange, frightening expression, he took a deep breath and recited in one exhale, guttural and sharp:
"Ogi u- krimpagh nazghatul,
Ogi u- nazgh-at krimpaul,
Ogi u- shaghai ghashhatul,
Agh u-ay-Ishiti nazghaul "
- Don't scare me like that - I said when the echoes of the gloomy spell died off. - Like you have called the Nazgul . It even became darker .
- That the sun goes down, - laughed Ghash. - What Nazgul? The rings were burned, the ringwraiths too. This spell should open the entrance. We thought so. But it does not open. It does not even show where is the entrance.
- What does it mean on the Westron ? - I asked. - Can you say it on Westron?
- Of course I can, - Ghash took a breath again.
I tensed, but this time the sky did not get darker.
- "The Nine Lords to connect into a chain ,
The Nine rings to open the domain,
The Nine to ignite the Fiery Eye
And through its iris to pass by."
- I would not translate like this, - said Oghr.
I did not even notice when he climbed up.
- I would not too, - agreed Ghash. - Words experts, far better than us, racked their brains. Did you ever in your life make a song?
- No, - shook his head Oghr. - My songs are in the iron
- So am I - no songs. But the experts say that this verse is clumsy, but it is closest to the sense of the spell. They know better.
- I do not believe in spells. - The Oghr laughed. - I still did not hear a single spell that would help to forge a horseshoe. I believe in the hammer, fire and my own hands. Well, also in the goodness of the Impartial One, but it goes without saying.
- Yeah, - laughed Ghash - and also in a yellow dust.
- If I would just know where to embed it. - Oghr nodded. - Two pounds are not enough to break through this wall. Not even a single slit in here on the floor. I already looked. If in there would be at least a hint of the entrance, we would embed it and blasted so, that rocks would sprinkle out.
- Would it be better if you will try first to do it with a picklock? - Mocked Ghash.
- Show a keyhole, - waved off Oghr, - and I will try everything. Latchkeys, drills, crowbar and the yellow dust, if nothing helps.
- I would have shown, - Ghash shrugged his shoulders, - but do not know where it is. Together we will look for it. Hey, Chsham, what are you doing there?
I was picking with a fingernail a green rim around the eyes carved above the inscription. Part of the rim fell out even earlier, before me, and now I wanted to figure out what it is and why it is green. The Fiery Eye must be red.
- He is mucking around, that is, - Oghr said to Ghash. - Wants to dig the eye out of the stone .
- No, - I said. - Here. Come here you two. The whole eye is made of stone, but this green thing is not a stone. It's something else. It crumbles easily and, when removed, a groove remains around the pupil. Like a ring.
- The ring? - Ghash approached me. - Move over for a minute.
He took out his dagger, with one turn of the tip cleared the circular groove and pulled off a golden ring from the finger of his left hand, apparently forgotten about it since the time spent in Osgiliath. The ring fitted in the groove, as if always been there . The reflection of the setting sun mirrored off the gold with a purple glitter, and the eye immediately became angry and frowning.
- We-e-ll, - mused Ghаsh. - What about the rest?
We went around the platform trying to fit the ring in the place of green rims, and every time it appeared that every sign of the Fiery Eye was carved just for it.
- Nine rings, - Ghash muttered to himself, when we returned to the inscription. - Nine rings and nine lords of the rings. They were all in there. But we have only one ring.
I shuddered:
- Do you mean that this ring, with which we are playing, is the ring of the Nazgul?
- Of the Witch King, - nodded Ghash. - According to the inventory of the collection of trophies, signed by Colonel of the Royal Guard Beregond, it was found on the Pelennor Fields, at the site of the death of the Witch -King by a warrior Tars, the foreman of the Minas Tirith militia' s infantry regiment. Together with the ring was found a shield, a mace of Morgul, a rim of the crown, a cape, a Morgul's chain mail and a necklace made of gold and precious stones. Gold items were transferred to the royal treasury, as required by the law for the precious trophies. Other things by a custom went to one who picked them up. Six months later they were purchased by the king for worth their weight in gold from the widow of a soldier Tars. The warrior himself died four months after the battle from an unknown illness. About all this was written in a special annex to the inventory line. The inventory itself is stored in the King's book repository. The Hall for Privileged, shelf - sixth of the thirty-eighth row, place - two hundred eighty two.
- Are you sure? - I asked. - You said that the ring was sent to the royal treasury.
- Any treasury can be robbed, - said Ghash. - Especially if you are willing to spend on it more than going to carry. The person, who got it for me, is not one of those, who are wasting time on gabbing. I trust him. This is the Ring. In addition to it there is an inscription in Black Speech, on the inside. It is not seen, but if the ring is heated, it can be read: "Let the days flow by my word!" - Magic ... - I became upset.
- What magic? - Chimed in Oghr. - It's just an inscription cut out with a thin needle on an extremely hot metal. When it cools down, the inscription is not visible. Heat up - and it reappears.
- Magic of the rings is over, kid - said Ghash. - Anyway, I'm wearing it from Osgiliath and do not feel anything unusual. I even was beginning to wonder if this is really the Ring. But, again, now I think that this is - seems it fits in these eyes too perfectly.
- So what's next? - Asked Oghr.- Should be nine rings, but you've got one. Where are we going to take the others?
- Nowhere.- Ghash said, frustrated. - Eight others were burned in the fires of Mount Doom, along with their hosts.
- I do not understand, - I said. - What are you talking about here? Why do we need another eight rings of the Nazgul?
- To try to insert them into each eye, - said Oghr. - Since it is a place for them, which is very likely, then we would insert them into the eyes and see what happens.
- I think you're both wrong, - I said. - The fact that this ring fits the eye, in my opinion, mean nothing. Some other rings were in there, not the Nazgul's. Nazgul's rings went up in smoke. Right? Only one ring left out, if, of course, it is the real one. But what was inserted into the eye then? This green residue, that we dug out, is the remnant of some other rings, but not those, that were Nazgul's.
- Do you know, Ghash, - Oghr said thoughtfully. - The guy is talking sense. There was a copper, not gold, this green residue could be left from copper, I'm telling you. So your ring is just happens to fit in here.
- I do not believe in such a coincidence, - said Ghash. - What kind of lords, except Nazgul, can be mentioned in the inscription? Why the ring fits so exactly? Maybe they were inserting the brass rings while the wraiths having been absent?
- What for? - I asked.
- I do not know, - said Ghash. - I do not understand what for those eyes are, and what for those rings. If there were the rings at all.
- You know what? - I hastened to express the idea, before it was gone. - Let's make another eight rings and insert them all. And see what happens.
- And what should happen? - Astonished Oghr.
- I do not know, - I replied. - But you said yourself, "getting up and see what happens." Since there were other rings, not Nazgul's, then you can try to insert any others. If nothing happens, then we have nothing to lose. Everything will be as it was.
- Okay - said Ghash. -I have more than enough rings. We will choose the suitables.
- No need, - Oghr stopped him. - Do you have coins?
- What kind do you need? - Ghash asked in response.
- Better - gold, gold is soft, I would do the rings of exact size .
- Can it be made faster? - I butted into the conversation. - The sun is about to disappear
- If you want to try again today, the rings will be done in an hour. They do not need to be polished. It will be roughly done, but for us the most important is the appropriate size. Right?
- Right,- Ghash and I said together. - Let's do it.

Oghr, of course, worked more than an hour. The sun went down and stars have appeared on the darkening sky. But we were all so tingling with impatience, that no one paid an attention to it. When the eight rings were ready, the three of us again climbed up the tower, leaving Ghai to bask by the fire.
We decided to start from the inscription and go in a circle, following the sun, so that the eye with the spell should be the last. When Ghash inserted the first ring, I shuddered, expecting that now something will happen. Nothing, however, has happened not with the first, nor with the second ring, or even with the eighth.
- Well ... - sighed Ghash, when we came back to the inscription. -The last one.
He again took off his finger the ring of the Whitch-King , held it up a bit and stuck in the place. Nothing happened. Each of us was expecting something special, but nothing at all had happened, only a breath of freshness wafted through .
Ghai screamed from below.
- Up! - He shouted hysterically. - Look up!
We all looked up. On the dark surface of the ball, lying on the pillars, with a light crackle were flashing big blue sparks. Gradually it's getting more and more of them until the entire ball got covered with a bluish glow. And then in fifty feet above our heads banged so loudly, that the ears got muffled, and the ball has become a tangle of dark, purple flames. On the site at once became hot.
- It seems to me, - said bewildered Oghr, - that we just lit up the Fiery Eye. I'd like to know how we will get inside ...
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Old 04-28-2016, 09:55 AM   #43
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- Looks like I put my best foot forward saying that the magic of the rings was gone, - Ghash mused, watching as above us rages and tries to break out of its grids asylum the swirling flames .
- What if Sauron in there?! - The thought suddenly occurred to me, and got me pretty scared.
- Hardly, - Ghash doubted. - He only could exist as long, as there was existing his ring. And it was definitely burned up.
- Who is that, actually? - Intervened Oghr.
- He was a sorcerer, - said Ghash. - Same as the White, only he was the Black. Under his name the Nine ghouls ruled in Lughbuurth. He lived in a kind of magical flame of the Fiery Eye.
- Magic... Magic ... - grumbled Oghr. Why you got stuck on this magic? I cannot see any magic. The flame as the flame, almost the same as in Khand, in furnaces, where they are burning an earthen oil .
- You say the earthen oil? - Ghash looked at Oghr. - How can you identify that? Did you pour it into by yourself ?
- I, shaghrat, - Oghr seem got offended, - can discern four hundred shades of fire. This is only those, that have common names, and about fifty of these, for which the name has not come up yet. By the color of the flame I can tell where they brought the coal, which metal is heated and what kind of impurities are in the ore. And, unlike you, when I see something that works, do not cry immediately "Magic, magic!", but think how it could be done. If I say that this copper ball was lit by the earthen oil, so it's the earthen oil. Maybe from Khand, but that's exactly the oil.
- How do you know that this is the copper ball?
- It was green, until it got lighted up. Copper turns green in the air .
- But it is gridded, there is no bowl. Where the oil was poured into? And who poured?
- The oil is likely in the poles, they probably hollow, basked in the sun for days - the oil evaporates. We lit up this evaporations. - And where are the sparks coming from?
- I do not know. But you are not wondering about sparks from the flint and mentioning the magic. Maybe we pressed on something with the rings, maybe in some other way. Should look into and figure out. But it is no magic in here. I'm sure.
- It would be nice, - Ghash sighed. - Only the witchcraft is that's all we needed for a pleasure. I am not afraid of things that made by hands, but I have never dealt with the magic. I am anxious.
- You'd better tell us how we will get inside.
- I thought you'd tell. You know better about these things.
-We need to extinguish the ball. Let's take the rings out
- The inscription says, "ignite and pass by". Probably the entrance is through one of the pillars, if they really hollow, and, most likely, the entrance is closed when the ball is not lit up. Let's wait with quenching.
- Do you think they were going straight through the fire?
- Who knows ... Ghosts. Could walk through the fire.
- Do you know what I think. - The Oghr rubbed his chin. - We should tap the pillars, if they are hollow and one is designated for the entrance, the sound will be different. I don't know for how long we will have to tinker with the drills, but eventually we will drill through. If there would be some deadbolt, we will blast it with the yellow dust.
- I see, - Ghash looked worried. - Not a bad idea, we will start in the morning .
- What about the Eye?
- Let it burn. I afraid to remove the rings. What if we won't ignite again? If this is not a magic, then all of this stood here for one hundred years. Who knows how much left of this oil? What if this device won't work anymore? Let it burn ...

This talk about the properties of the fire and possible devices of the Eye I was listening with a half ear. I was engaged in quite another thing. I doubted very much that the ghosts were walking into the tower through the fire. One, who can be killed with the sword, can be burnt with fire too. Ghosts were afraid of the live fire, that I knew for sure. Enough to recall how by use the fire Aragorn drove them away at the Weathertop.
The entrance was somewhere else. It must be somewhere nearby, if the inscription was not lying. It did not lie about the Fiery Eye. We had to find something that could be called the "iris" of this eye. What could it be, I had no idea, and not even trying to imagine. I was just carefully looking around. On the pillars was nothing particularly noticeable, the rust just began to fall off, probably from the heat. Then I thought that the entrance may be at one of the teeth, not for nothing they carved the eye-marks. But none of the carved on stone eyes was standing out too. And then I looked at my feet ...
The dark shining stone underfoot was reflecting the flames and the whole area of the tower, like a witchy, evil mirror, shone with flashes of black and purple. Only in the middle of it, exactly under the ball, remained a dark, not illuminated by the fire, spot. "The iris of the eye." It seems looked like a black pupil in crimson flame. I was surprised, that I did not notice this immediately. As if in a dream, I walked slowly to the spot.
Ghash just said "Let it burn ", when I stepped onto the black surface of the "iris".
The stone slab faltered under the foot. Something inside the tower long and nasty grated, and other slabs around me began to sink. At first an invisible before gap has appeared, then the gap widened and turned into a hole, the hole recessed into a passage, and, finally, I found myself standing on the top of the wide spiral staircase. The stair leading down to the bottom of the Black Tower of Barad-Dur. From the stair shaft the wind was blowing like in a chimney. It even became cold, despite the fact that over the head the flame began to roar with a vengeance .
Ghash and Oghr stood zoned out and open-mouthed, looking at me like into a void.
- What is going on? - Yelled from below Ghai. - What is creaking in there? Can you say something? I am sitting here alone like a fool.
I rounded the opened entrance, walked over to Ghash and Oghr, and waved before their eyes. Neither one did not even bat an eye .
- Well, - I thought, - they will snap out of it .
I yelled to Ghai
- The entrance has opened!
Ghai sat down on the sand.
- So soon? .. - He said in bewilderment and became silent too.

I must pay a tribute to the shaghrat's self-control. He came to his senses the first and very fast.
- What's wrong with you all? - I asked him, when he shook his head, and woke up from his stupor.
- I cannot explain, - he said, helping quietly crying Oghr to sit down . - Do you understand, it is Lughbuurth. So many songs, legends were made about it. It was the largest city. The millennial city. Lullabies were sang to us about this. And now we have come and opened the entrance. Just like that, not even spending a one night. I ... I do not know what to say about it.- He waved his hand. -Seems I myself am going to cry. Oghr, why are you crying?
- I am sorry for the guys, - said Oghr in boyish, high-pitched voice. - You know how many of them were blown up, when we were making the yellow dust? All for nothing ... It was not even needed ...
- Don't, - I said. - They knew for what they were risking. Maybe it will be needed ...
- For such a cause won't be needed for sure, - said Oghr. - To open the entrance to Lughbuurth - such thing won' happens again. I do not know myself why I'm crying. It struck suddenly on a tear ...
- Ghai! - Ghash shouted down . - How are you there?
- Alive, - responded a voice from below. - Only somehow got chilled inside. When we will go inside?
- We will go tomorrow morning - said Ghash. - But you're staying outside.
- Why always me? - Came Ghai's indignant cry. - Everybody will go, but me - to watch the cattle? You yourself stay here!
- Stop arguing, - I tried to calm them down.- Why tomorrow, Ghash?
- Need to calm down, - he said. - To prepare. Who knows what's inside. You do not know, and I do not know. So, we will rest, gather a strength and then will go. Rush could cause only harm to the important task. Tomorrow... Tomorrow ...

I do not know how I was able to sleep, waiting for it "tomorrow." Others, seems, feel the same. In the morning Ghash and Ghai again started to quarrel. Ghai wouldn't hear of staying behind. He wanted to go with us. Ghash mind. In the end, I decided that nothing awful will happen if Ghai will go with us. Bactrs can eat thorns by themselves, no wolves around there. We stuffed with provision our rusks bags, filled flasks with fresh water, had drunk our fill of water , stocked up the torches and set off on the first exploration. Frankly, I was a great deal of afraid to plod down into the dungeon, although I tried not to show it. Maybe I allowed Ghai to go with us just because considered that his sword could be useful.

However, the danger that awaited us inside, did not require a sword. The easiest way is to get lost in this endless dark of the passageways. Unsteady light of our torches illuminated only a few steps of the path and roughly hewn stone walls. But Ghash led us confidently. He did not get confused, when at the base of the stairs we found out several passes diverging in different directions. From somewhere he took out a parchment, checked with it, found a carved rune on the wall of one of the passages and said that we have to go there. In addition, he had hammered a hook into a crack in the wall and tied a spider-thread to it .
- Carry on, - he said, giving the spider- thread to Ghai. - At least it will be some use of you. Just do not rip it.
- I know myself, - Ghai snapped, taking a coil of spider- thread, but, to my surprise, did not say anything else.
- Is it long enough? - I asked.
- For a league, - said Ghash, - if to untwist all threads.
- And then?
- Then we will take the next coil, and if it would not be enough, we will get the cords from buurghas. If it won't be enough, we will unravel to the threads the very buurghas. Do not worry, we won't get lost.

And so we set off: Ghash was going ahead, now and then stopping at each intersection of the passages and checking with the scroll. The last was walking Ghai, grunting, and from time to time stopping to tie another thread . The dark walls are hanging over on all sides, pressing to the feeling of tightness in the chest, and I was beginning to think that I shouldn't have succumbed to curiosity and go with them. I should stay at the top of the tower instead of Ghai and wait peacefully in the open air.
- Ghash - I pushed him in the back. - Where are we going?
- To the book repository, - he said, without turning around. - Where else?
- Do you know where it is? - I was surprised.
- No, - he said. - But I am assuming. Now we're going down the main aisle, from south to north. Judging by the time, we almost reached the middle of the city, soon large halls will begin. In there we will seek for the book repository.
- And what's in your scroll?
- Nothing special, - he waved dismissively. - Just a list of signs and inscriptions on the walls. At Ghazatbuurth they mark passages and doors with runes of the Black speech, as well as in here. It goes since ancient times . I have it all memorized by heart, but in such case it is better not to rely on the memory.
In the light of the torches came into a view a door. An imposing wooden door, crossed by thick iron bars. So far, we have seen nothing like that .
- Oghr, - waved Ghash.
Oghr moved from behind my back, looked at the barrier and said: "It is a simple bolt, nothing special."
He took out some curved piece of iron and put the one end into a crack between the door and the jamb: "Come along!Help." The three of us piled on top of the free end, rocked it a couple of times, something clanged behind the door, and it got opened.
- Everything got rotted, - Oghr said, stepping over a low doorstep. - Just in over a hundred years. Strange.
Something crunched under his feet, and we all looked down. These were bones, the bones of a human skeleton, or orc's, so small they were. Maybe they belonged to a child. A short distance away lay another skeleton, a little more farther - another. And one more. And further on. All space, as far as the torchlights can cover, was littered with bones. Probably hundreds of the skeletons were lying here.
- Ghai! You will stand at the entrance to the hall! - Ordered Ghash. - We have a look around! Stay all together! Do not move more than two steps away from each other!
Ghai nodded and put his torch into an iron holder on the wall. We, the three of us, slowly, trying not to step on the scattered everywhere bones, moved forward. Not always we managed to find an empty space for the feet, and then again under the soles was sounding a nasty crunch.
- From what all of them have died? - I asked, looking around, when we were already quite far away from the door. The light of the torch on the wall took out a silhouette of the dark doorway and sitting there squatting Ghai.
- Air, - Ghash said. - The air was poisoned, when it was the eruption of the Mount Doom. Likely, they all suffocated. Of the urban population survived only those who have been away from the city. When they returned, on the site of the city was the desert .
- What about us? - I got scared. - We can also suffocate! Maybe the air is still poisoned?
- Not looks like it, - said Ghash. - We walked that far, but did not smell any odor. Oghr! What will you say?
- What to say? - Oghr said, looking around. - I do not like it, I do not feel anything in the air, just dust. If there was poison, then it aired out. No wonder that on the stairs whistles like in the chimney. Air is coming from somewhere else besides from the tower. Seems it was some moisture, if the bodies decayed to the skeletons .
- Are you sure? - Asked him Ghash.
- I'm sure of nothing. - Oghr shook his head. - A terrible place. But there is a small draft. Look at the torches . We are staying, but the fire is wavering.
That's right, the flames of the torches was slightly deviating toward the exit.
- What we are going to do? - I asked.
- Going to return, - said Ghash. - For the first time it is enough. Just will find a door on the opposite side and open it. To make more draft, since the air is blowing, so let it blow even harder. For us it will be safier. Will find, open, and go back.

We stopped a little short of reaching the next door. It was already been visible, the same massive, as the previous one. Oghr already started to overtake me, on the move pulling out his curved piece of iron, but suddenly stumbled and waved his hands, trying to keep his balance, and fell flat on his back, dropping the torch. I leaned over him to ask what was happening, and suddenly felt dizzy. The stone floor rapidly moved to the eyes, and I buried my nose into the dust, inhaling a full mouth of it. There was a sound of another fall. It's somewhere nearby Ghash fell.
- Hey! - I wanted to shout. - Ghai! Help!
I do not know whether I shouted. Anyway, I have not heard my voice.
But my call has not gone in vain. The response came almost immediately. A few inches from my face was lying the skull . It was kind of ordinary looking, dusty, bald, with a gap in the bottom row of teeth. For some reason the rest of the skeleton's bones was not there. Only brown locks of hair lay beside him.
The skull winked at me with an empty socket of the left eye, blew out of the void instead of nose a cloud of brownish dust and said laughingly:
- Gollm!
- Gollm?! - I was amazed. - Why Gollm? You want to say "Gollum"?
- Gollm! - Boasted the skull. - Gollm!
- You're lying, - I tried to rebuff. - He's dead, he fell into the Orodruin crevice and burned together with the Ring of Power.
- Gollm ... - my strange talker became sad . - Gollm ... Poor, poor Smeagol ...
- Smeagol? - I was not mistaken, in the skull's voice could really be heard a sadness. - Do you remember that name?
- Smeagol ... - thoughtfully repeated the skull. - Poor, poor, small Smeagol ... - And Deagol was bad, - he announced suddenly. - Bad, nas-s-s-s-ty. Nas-s-s-s-ty, lousy hobbit-s. He wanted to take away the Prec-c-cious from Smeagol My prec-c-c-ious!
- Tell me, - I said, and held my breath, fearing and wanting to hear the answer.
- Prec-c-cious ! - The skull got anxious. - My Prec-c-cious! I got it as a gift! For a birthday! My Prec-c-cious! Deagol! Nas-s-s-s-ty hobbit-s! He said: "Give!" He said: "Give it to me! What you need it for?!" He said so. He said: "It is your birthday, you must give gifts to guests!" And he took it. Took my Prec-c-cious! Took away. My Prec-c-cious ! It was given to me as a gift! On the birthday! To me!!!
- So what was next? - I continued to pry.
- He's gone ... - the skull complained. - Snatched off my Prec-c-cious and left. He was strong. Stronger than me. He was beating me. Always. He took it and left. I shouted to him: "Choke on it! Put it on and choke on it!" And he laughed. They all laughed. Nas-s-s-s-ty, lousy hobbitses. They laughed at me. Laughed! On my birthday ... "Meanie! - they shouted to me -. Meanie, too greedy to give Deagol a gift!" They ate and drank at my birthday. And laughed ...
- What about Deagol?
The skull seems was reflecting on the past, but I had to hurry him again.
- He died, - the skull said indifferently. - He went to the river bank, where the trees are, put on the ring and hang himself. On his belt. I have seen. I watched. I took my Prec-c-cious , and fled. I ran away from all of them . From all nas-s-s-s-ty, fatty, lousy hobbitses. And I prohibited all of them to laugh. Forever. They stopped. And, too, died ...
- And you?
- I lived. I have lived a long time. My Prec-c-cious ... - somewhere out of the stone surfaced a black translucent hand with webbed fingers.
- Convenient to swim, - the skull said. - I thought it out by myself, my prec-c-cious ...
- What about Bilbo? - I asked. - Bilbo Baggins? Do you remember him?
- Thief !!! - Suddenly yelled the skull, in the empty eye sockets flared a purple flame . - Thief! Nas-s-s-s-ty thief! Thief! Stole my Prec-c-cious ! Baggins a thief! Nas-s-s-s-ty burglar! Stole! Stole my Prec-c-cious ! "Die, you nas-s-s-s-ty thief ! Die!" - I shouted to him -" Die!" But he did not die. He ran away. Stole my Prec-c-cious ... Bagginses are thieves ... - skull whimpered. - Empty .. Empty. I'm empty ... empty ...All got burned off inside ... My Prec-c-cious ...The Warlock said: "Take the Prec-c-cious! Waylaid a little hobbit-s in the bushes, when he will be alone ! And take the Prec-c-cious!!! My Prec-c-cious ! It will be yours again! "
- The Warlock? - I was all ears. - What warlock? Saruman? Or Sauron?
- My Prec-c-cious ... - the skull did not pay attention to my cry. - Betrayed ... And the warlock betrayed ... They were two ... two ... Not one. Two nas-s-s-s-ty hobbitses ... They said: "Lead us!" I could not disobey. My Prec-c-cious ... I led ... led till the very mountain ... - My Prec-c-cious! - Suddenly again proudly yelled the skull. - It left mine!. Forever! Mine!
And he went on muttering incoherently, in which it was impossible to make out something, but only the words "My Prec-c-cious !"
I tried to question him. I asked him the questions, but he did not answer and just continued a monotonous, slumberous mumbling.

The sounds of meaningless talking were enveloping me from all sides, penetrating into the ears, pressing down on the mind, and forcing to close the eyes.
- Magic, - I thought, closing ever heaviest eyelids. - It `s Magic...
- Magic? - Laughed someone inside the head with Oghr's voice . - Better guess how this is done, and all of the magic will disappear at once!
- Enchantment! - Sternly said in the head another, sounding like Ghash, voice. - It's a hex. He enchanted him, bewitched. They talked and he got bewitched. This is a luuk. The enchantment. Not magic.
They were arguing inside my head: is it an enchantment or it may be a dream.
- Sleep. - I thought. - Sleep. Now I'll go to sleep and die in the sleep. Then I will rot away, and my skull would tell tales to those who will come after us.
I was sure about the fact that someone would come after.
To open the eyelids was excruciatingly painful. The skull still was mumbling something unintelligible, the flame in the eye sockets just smoldering at the edges, leaving the center for the black emptiness of the pupils.
- Do not look in the eye, or you will get drowned, - seems, these words I have heard before .
- Get up, shorty! Rise! Move! Do something! - I also have heard this.
How to get up, when you do not feel your own body? When you do not know where the top, where the bottom. When you swim in the sounds, like in a bubbling water. In the the sounds that don't exist, because the skulls can not talk. How to escape from the darkness that swallowed you? How to find anything real in this enchantment?! At least some support for the elusive mind?
- Foothold ... - I thought. - I'm lying on the base. I fell down when it all began. Fell on a stone. And I'm lying on it. On this real stone floor. I have to feel it. Even a bit. I need to find the feeling.
Cold. The cold of the stone. Stone pulled out of me the living warmth, bringing death, but also it is letting me know that I'm still alive.
- A way out? How do I find it?
- There's a torch, Ghai's torch.
- You cannot trust your eyes, they are lying. And the ears are lying.
- Then I have to crawl along the wall until I'll come across the open door. Or until Ghai will see me . Or ... does not matter. Need to crawl.

It was not that easy to find the wall. Not easy even to figure out where it can be. Maybe I was just lucky, because we did not walk to the door just a few steps.
Costly were those steps for me. I crawled and feared that I strayed from the direction and now is crawling in a circle. In the infinitely long circle. When my fingers rested against the wall, and when I realized it, I had not allowed myself to enjoy a false sense of the first victory. I knew that this is still far from the victory. Not even the shadow of it. Malaise, that captivated me, went on living. And it grew bigger. The dark room was filled with buzzing of multitude incomprehensible voices. Crimson ghosts danced before my eyes, and winked at me with a black emptiness of the eye sockets. I did not pay attention to them. I was busy enough to make sure that the left shoulder and stomach felt the stone.
Now I feel horrified when recollecting all of this, and even more terrified at the thought that in the hall could have been a few open doors. But, fortunately, it was open just one, that, through which we had entered.
When I felt that my shoulder has nothing to rests on, at first I became scared, then delighted, and then began fumbling with hands trying to find Ghai. Not right away, but eventually I found him. Ghai lay keeled sideways, not moving, but holding in the hand the cord of spider-thread. Let the Impartial One to bethink about the one, who has discovered that one can twine tear-resistant strands and ropes from a spider-thread. If not for this thread, I would never get out of the dark dungeons of Barad Dur.

I came to my senses near the stairs. At some moment I suddenly realized that I was lying on my back, and above me the Fiery Eye roars and tries to escape from the cage, and this it's not the malaise. With shaking hands, I took the flask with water off the belt , with teeth pulled out the cork and poured half of the contents into a parched throat. I immediately vomited. Vomited violently. With blood and bile. I was turned inside out like a pig intestine for stuffing sausages. I tried to drink in small sips, but I did not manage to do even this. As soon as something was entering the stomach, the vomiting resumed.
I do not know for how many hours I sat under the stairs. Because of the flame of the Eye the sky cannot be seen from the darkness of the dungeon, and I could not even say is it day or night outside. Little by little, the nausea has passed and I was able to drink water and eat rusks. I did not think what I need to do next. I already knew it. Friends don't abandon friends. Even the dead one. I remember only in snatches about how I pulled them out. I was so weak that could hardly stand on my feet, and everything inside of me screamed: "Do not go!" But it was impossible not to go. I remember how, desperately cursing and weeping, I dragged down the passageway Ghai's unconscious body, how was tying a rope to Oghr's belt . How Ghash was whispering: - "Leave... Go away...Tell in there ..." But I did not listen to his feverish raving. I could not leave him, it would be more revolting than to leave him to die in the Misty Mountains.

They say that any terror comes to an end sooner or later, sometimes with the life. This one, fortunately, ended sooner. However, the next one was waiting for us. When, exhausted, we got upstairs, we found that around is a clear, hot day, and from the foot of the tower is coming a lively screeching.
-This is just what we were missing, - wearily muttered Ghash. At the foot of the tower the bodies of dead bactrs have been swarmed with dozens of fiery- red animals.
- Who is it? - I asked, though, I did not need the answer, but I needed to say something.
- U-u-shaghrats, - said Ghash. - Beasts! We shouldn't leave the bactrs unattended. They, probably, came in here from the whole neighborhood, to the carrions.
- Is it them killed the bactrs?
- I do not know. Not any shaghrat can kill a baktr. These are young. More orange. Seasoned ones are in the color just like fire. They do not live in packs. Loners. Seems, one came at night, tore bactrs throats, while they were sleeping, got satiated and left. And then they came. I was telling you that we shouldn't leave the bactrs alone.
- What would I do? - Ghai began to make excuses. - One against such a pack. I would be bitten to death too..
- Nobody blames you. Should think before.
With these words I also felt guilty.
- What are we going to do? - Asked Oghr. - Down there is the water and food. Will these creatures flee, if we will come down?
- I won't go down to check, - Ghash said, pulling out of the harness familiar tubes and bowls. - So, now we will walk to upwind side, lit up all this and throw it down. Just do not breathe, when the smoke starts to come out. Once we already have got poisoned and it is enough.
- Will it work? - Butted in Ghai.
- Will work, - promised our shaghrat. - If it won't kill - then will chase away. Come on!
The thrown down bowls burned for a short time. For five minutes or ten. But when the green smoke cleared out, all our camping place was strewn with small red corpses.
- Hey, shaghrat, - brightened Ghai, when he saw it. - Why this thing is not being used in the battles?
- Takes a long time to make it, - Ghash said. - And it is a dangerous job: those, who do it, then quickly die. Previously it was used against the pointy-eared, against the bearded sometimes too. But it's in the woods or in the caves, where is no wind. In the open air it soon dissipates, you saw it.
- Where did you get it from, if those who did it and died then ? - Ghai pestered.
- You are asking a lot of questions! - Ghash got angry. - Go down! First, bring up the water, then the food!
- Yes! Water, food! - Ghai disappeared over the edge of the area.
I did not understand at that time, why he did not wait for an answer. After the invasion of the fire rats we have left with just a little bit of water. In the ripped by sharp fangs bags was left barely for a half of canteen to each. With food was better. To a sun-dried meat, stone-hard bread rusks and ghuuruut the rats preferred fresh meat. Also survived a stock of shaghu and green honey.
-We should return. - Expressed his opinion Oghr, when we overlooked the saved. - We won't last without water .
- We won't be able to. - Ghash shook his head. - Two flasks of water for four of us. On foot, it's a five-day's walk, well, four. In the summer heat. We won't reach.
- What if to send one to the village for a help.
- Then we will have to give him all the water. Others won't survive. Besides we did not do, yet, what we supposed to do. And who knows, that is going on in the village now.
- Running at night, - offered Ghai. - On the honey.
- For the honey water also needed , - said Ghash, - otherwise you will burn down. And after a night comes a day. What to do during the day? There is no shade - nowhere to hide. One day under the buurgha we will survive without water. The second - not. We should go inside, in there should be the water. It was the city, it had the wells.
- What if we will fall again ? - Asked Oghr. - First time we even did not notice how it happen. In there the air is poisoned.
- You said yourself that there is a small draft, - said the shaghrat. - The inside air draws out from the tower for a second day. The second or the third? We will go in pairs, the first - ahead, the second - behind. If the first fall, the second will pull out. Will be opening the doors, maybe it will take out the bad air. Clear it out. Also, we can put wet cloths on the mouth and nose. From the poisonous smoke it helps a bit . Maybe from the poison in the air too. - I don't like it. - Oghr said.
- What can you offer?
- Nothing. Okay, order then.
- You and Ghai - ahead. At a length of a long spider-thread. Both are on the ropes. Talk, when you will be doing something. If you will keep silent for a long time, we will pull you out.
- When will we go? - Said Ghai.
- In the morning, - said the shaghrat. - Need to recover a little bit of strength . Drink the water only on my orders.
- I see, - Ghai shook his head . - You know what I am thinking? Why we have to go all at once? I'm the youngest, it would be better if I'll go ahead. Oghr - after me, and after him - you and Chsham. On two ropes. If I won't fall, then Oghr can go. But if I'll drop down, so for the three of you it will be easier to pull me out.
- Accepted, - agreed Ghash.
- Maybe is better for me to go first? - I felt guilty for what happened to the bactrs and water. - I'm tough.
- No, - said the shaghrat. - You will be the last to go . That's because you are the most enduring. Out of four of us only you were able to get out on your own. Who will pull us out, if you will fall? The last! I said.
- Very well, - I said. - Are we going to eat today?
I always want to eat, when I am getting anxious. Ghash just laughed instead of answering. The breaking of the exit door in that disastrous room was the first thing we did the next morning. It took a lot of time, because now we were cautious at each step. However, none of us got sick, neither in the room, nor in the aisle behind it, not in the next room. Seems, the air got cleared out.

By the end of the second day we became quite emboldened, so that we greatly reduced the distance between the walking ahead and us, and began to move up the main aisle much faster. Two factors contributed to it. No matter how carefully we were saving the water, it's becoming less and less of it, and another thing was that after opening numbers of doors we had encountered, the draft became very tangible and wet.
We passed the fourth or the fifth hall when, instead of the now familiar doors, found gates. The huge gates interwoven with strips of wrought iron. They were of such size that an oliphant would be easily passing through. But they were locked. I had thought that now I will be asked to show the art of hacking, but Oghr cried out:
- Give them to me! - He demanded. - I'll blow them into a dust!
- Wait, - Ghash tried to reason with him . - Maybe we will open without blowing them.
- What to wait! - Shouted Oghr. - The stuff is getting wasted! Do you know for how long we will tinker with it? Five days, no less. And on the gate says that behind them the Hall of Water and Fire!
- Yes? - Ghash gave some thought.
- Stay here! - He ordered me.- I'll go and see.
After Ghash went and read what is written on the gate, he consulted about something with Oghr, asked whether he will do it alone, received an affirmative answer, and ordered Ghai to move beside me. I did not see what Oghr did at the gate, we were too far away, but it took a long time. So long so that we even have time to sleep in turns. Finally, there was a warning cry, and after that, the stomping of running boots.
- Now! - Shouted Oghr, appearing in front of us. His eyes sparkled like of a mischievous boy, who for a long time has intended a mischief of something special, and finally did it. - Now it will go ...
He has not finished saying, when a wave of air, dense as water, has enveloped us, bringing with it a dry heat and smelly, suffocating smoke, which watered the eyes and dryed the throat. The sound came a moment later. It felt as if my skin was pulled on a huge drum. I shook my head, clearing out the ear airlock, and chided Oghr:
- You should warn about how it would be.
- A? .. - Oghr said and shook his head, too. - What?
- In the ear! - Outraged Ghai. - That's what! I thought it will flatten me like a cockroach under the hammer.
- Everybody shut up! - Ordered Ghash. - It is not like he uses the dust every day. Miscalculated. All alive and it is well.
- And you, - he pointed at Ghai, - go to see what was done with the gates!
- They are standing! - Shouted Ghai after a while. - All intact!
- Oghr?! - Ghash looked at him quite severely.
- I'll go there, - said Oghr. - This half-wit again messed up something .
- You yourself is not better, - Ghai shouted from afar. - Over here, incidentally, everything is perfectly audible.
- Okay, the wise guy, - muttered, moving away from us, Oghr. - You have got a lot of sense, but even more of the featherheadness.
For some time we have heard vague bickering of our companions, and then there was a clang and a thunder .
- Done! - Oghr shouted to us. - It was firmly made. Hinges got knocked out, but the gates did not fall. We had to swing it. They are thick, we have dropped only one leaf.
- Is the entrance free? - Asked Ghash.
- Yeah. Ghai has entered already!
- Such a pig! - Ghash said, either with approval, or disapproval . - Come on, Chsham, let's see what's in there.
We did not do a few steps, when came Ghai's cry .
- Over here! Here! - He screamed so hysterically, as if he was in danger.
We rushed forward, past the gate, ran a dozen steps more and froze ...

The hall, in which we found ourselves, was huge. Gigantic arches supported by long rows of black stone columns, and high above our heads through large round holes in a stone dome was shining a sun, wich has not been seen by us for a long time. From some of the holes the sand was still sifting down, forming on the floor quite high accurately shaped piles.
- Mom-ma, dear! - Said Oghr looking up, spellbounded. - This has happened when we blew it up - the sand fell through the holes.
- You'd better look at the sides, dummy! - Ghai pushed him in the side . - All around!
It was something to look at, on all sides. In the twilight, between the rows of columns towered gigantic furnaces, anvils, hammers and air bellows. The network of iron beams was stretching between the columns, and from the top hung chains with hooked on them giant size tongs, crowbars and also some tools that I did not know the name. The same kind of beams were laid on the floor too, and on them stood wagons loaded with metal ingots, coal and something incomprehensible.
- Karghana ... - Whispered Oghr. - It's the karghana, Ghash! Just like we have on the island!
- Exactly. - Agreed Ghash. - The karghana. Only, if all of you on the island to gather in here, it still will be a lot of space for guys from Khazatbuurth and Gundabad. I have not seen like this even in Khazatbuurth . Over there everything is simplier. Here should be the water. Something was making the hammers to work. Where? You know better, than all of us, what and where to be found in the karghana.
- Wait, - said Oghr. - Ghai! Where are you?
- In here! - From the far end of the workshop shouted Ghai. - Here is the water! Gurgling!

We overcomed the distance separating us by running. Ghai was standing near the door, the same, as many we've seen so far.
Oghr once again got his curved piece of iron, pushed Ghai aside, and in half a minute later we pulled the door out of the jamb perhaps together with hinges. Behind the door was another room, smaller than the hammer's workshop, but also of a considerable size. Half of its area was occupied by a stone-paved basin. It was full of water, up to the rims.
I wanted to rush to the water, but was withheld by Ghash. He said that Ghai would be the first to drink, and, if nothing will happen with him in two hours, then we all can drink the water. Since nothing had happened to Ghai, we not only drunk, but also swam. The water was ice-cold.
- Where is it coming from? - I asked with chattering teeth, when we got out.
- From the mountain,s - Ghash said, wiping of the lean body drops of water . - In the books have been written that from the glaciers on the north was laid underground channels to Lughbuurth . We were looking for them, but had never found.
- And where does it go? - Butted in curious Ghai. - Why is everything here is not flooded?
- An underground river is in there. The Bitter river, that is feeding the lake Nurnon in the south. I thought that all this seased to work. Even had no hope that we will find.
- That's not all! - Said Oghr, that bathed less than us, and now was exploring the periphery of the room. - This reservoir is enough to feed a one line of hammers. But how many of them are over here? There must be more and many. The city also needed something to drink.
- I think so too, - Ghash agreed . - Now we will drag all our stuff in here. There will be a camping site, from here we would be going in different directions. I have a question for you, Oghr. Can you make all this to run?
- By myself? - Amazed Oghr. - It needs fifty oghrs just to figure out a little bit in here, and about a thousand snagas to put everything in some order. You can see for yourself.
- Fifty and a thousand I can not promise, - Ghash smiled, - but a dozen of oghrs and two hundred snagas will be. It is for the time being. Soon. The local snagas will be here in a few days. They are on their way.
- What? - There was no limit to Oghr surprise .- How?
- When we lit the Fiery Eye, swallows were released in the Ash Mountains. It had been agreed on it long ago. For a swallow from here to even Carn Dum is less than four days of fly . To Khazatbuurth, Gundabad, White Mountains - even less. The Firy Eye can be seen far away. By now the whole desert, from the Ash Mountains to the Nurnon knows that it is lit up again. Everybody is on the way to here, Oghr!
- You're a wizard! - Oghr said with conviction. - You are Azogh!
- I am not, - refused Ghash. - It is Ughluuk, he thought up of everything. I am just taking care of it. And not just me. You have no idea how many people are in this business.

His words were confirmed almost at the same moment.
"Invisible and cannot be heard,
The ghosts of darkness, undeterred!
The death has often meet us on the roads,
But death - a girlfriend not for us!
We've got a lifelong order, thus
We have to come back home against all odds!"
It was the first thing I heard, when we again went to the karghana from the hall with water. The song was coming from afar, its echoes rolled through the hall, breaking on fractions, interfering with each other, and it was not clear who and where is singing. I even thought that I had fallen under the new spell , but the others stood by and listened, as intensely as me .

"Remember it and go by:
You must come back,
Come back alive!".

In a game with death it's give or take,
We're throwing our lives at stake
And were denied of the right to die.
But nothing should take you aback
You must come back, you must come back,
So someone will move forward in a meantime.
Remember it and go by ...

But in the war, as in the war:
Life has no value anymore,
Not always we can choose to turn the tide.
When your life is on the edge,
You must remember of your pledge:
We have the order - fight and do not die!
Remember it and go by...

Blood on your face, on a forehead - sweat,
You shouldn't deprecate your fate,
Let it be overhead the crow's cry.
But whispers in the ear grass,
That death is not a right thing for us,
Hold on, my brother, hold, and do not die!
Remember it and go by...

For many years in a row,
Our mothers lost their sleep in woe,
Wives cry and wait for us, unharmed, to arrive.
For sure we will come back someday,
Survived our death in many ways -
We have the order to return alive!
Remember it and go by... "

Last words thundered already under the arches of the karghana.
- It just does not happen like this ... - whispered bewildered Ghash , looking at approaching us singers. - Just does not happen.
The troop, which were singing the brave song, has stopped in four steps from us. A stocky, short fellow separated from it, took another two steps and said:
- Hi, shaghrat! Running fast. Barely managed to caught up.
- It just does not happen, - repeated Ghash. - There is no way .. Is that you, Turogh? Are you alive?
- What? - Turogh laughed. - Do I look like a corpse? You can ask the guys, - he nodded on a halted rank. - They will tell you that since the morning I was alive, and since then still have not died .
- Guys? - With the same confusion Ghash looked at the standing in the line.- Where you come from?
- We came from Khazatbuurth, - calmly told Turogh. - When you in the cave had whistled " to scatter", we split up. Then I have gathered those, who came out on the west side, and we moved to the north, to Khazatbuurth. I thought that we will pass through there and go down to the south, maybe will find you. Only after us in Khazatbuurth came the bearded. About five hundred. Almost treaded on our heels. Nobody was expecting them in there. And also Rohirrim came in with them . We had to fight a little bit in there. Then khazatbuurth's guys from the eastern slope came up, they planted for the bearded a map of the way to the lower tiers to a mithril. They immediately forgot about the people.
When the bearded left the people, they were kicked back to the surface. Those who survived, of course. Khazatbuurth's guys can fight in the caves as well as any bearded. Then we left. We could not get through to the south . There, in the steppe, the "bears"waged a war with the horse-eaters. The "bears" built a burgh at the confluence of the Celebrant and the Great rivers . The greatest of all theirs burghs, I'll tell you. So the horse-eaters are besieging it with about ten thousand horsemen .
- What for? - Ghash was surprised. - They are on the horses. Who will be able to catch up with them, if they would go to Carrock,
- Aha, - agreed Turogh. - And nobody is catching up with them. They moved to Carrock at first. But the "bear", instead of racing after the horsemen, crossed the Celebrant and went to Edoras. The horsemen - back, the "bears" - into their burgh. And so it goes on since.
- How did you come through?
- We made a detour on the north. Over there the Gundabads in the midst of all the commotion, have recaptured the northern pass from the "bears", while the Esgarots were besieging Carrock, .
- Have taken?
- No way! But burned it badly . And then the "bears" got mad and thrashed them good, drove to the Black Forest . We were passing on the edge of it just at that time, nearly have got into this massacre. Then we came to the oghrs island, but you were already gone. Well, we were in pursuit after you . Only in here we, finally, caught up with you.
- Have you been in the village?
- Yes. Just at the time when the Fiery Eye got lit up. In there have already made songs about you .
- How many of you, guys?
- Mine - almost all, found on the eastern slope some of Uragh's and, also, have got some fighters along the way. Seventy-six blades, counting me.
- Well ... - Ghash stepped forward and hugged Turogh. - I thought you were all dead.
- What is with you, shaghrat? - Turogh laughed. - You yourself have taught that any fool can die, but we have to survive and to finish the mission. Here we are. Give the orders.

You know, when it is not just four of us in the endless dungeons, but twenty times more, life become more fun. Now sounded the voices around and new faces have appeared every day. Ghash gave orders to Turogh every day, and he was sending out his men into the surrounding passages and halls in order to hear the evening reports of the returned. Oghr was not getting out of the karghana, then he was joined by a few more oghrs, who came from heaven knows what distance along with a crowd of snagas. Only Ghai and I toiled from idleness and boredom. More, of course, Ghai, because soon I joined Oghr.
One day I went to Ghash and asked him when he, finally, will show to me the door I should crack up. Ghash strangely looked at me, smiled and said:
- All right, I will show it right now, by any means. Call Ghai, it will be useful for him to take a walk with us, since now he only eats and sleeps. There is a one door, which does not give in.
The door turned out to be a normal, same as all of the doors in the underground. I couldn't understand what so special Ghash found it. However, I had to tinker with it for a while, because I had none of Oghr's tools. In the end, I remembered that kughri can cut through the iron and chopped off the hinges, not for the first time, of course.
When the door fell, and we stepped over the threshold, Ghash whistled in surprise: "Wow, we are looking for it, looking ... and here it is ..."

The hall in which we walked in, was rather big, I want to note, and it was full of books, to the ceiling vaults. Uncounted rows of shelves with an infinite length were filled with volumes and scrolls. It smelled of dust and desolation. We walked between the shelves. Curious Ghai snatched one of these ancient looking scroll and unrolled it.
- Put it back, - Ghash said. - Could damage something. You, anyway, do not know how to read.
- What you mean do not know? - Protested Ghai. - I know. Here, listen, - and read with the ability , which was difficult to expect from it:

To learn, to persuade, to steal, to kill.
To outwit the death and to survive again.
To live among the foe and having had the fill,
But, yet, for years have your home abstained.
We cannot change our toilful way at will -
To learn, to persuade, to steal, to kill ... "

So what? - Shrugged Ghash. - I've learned this verse when I still was a baby . It's called "The War Of Shaghrat". Every boy knows it.
- And the beginning you also know? - Said Ghai, with a sly smile .
-What do you mean, "the beginning"? - Ghash was surprised. - You read it all.
- Nope, - shook his head Ghai.

-"Breathtaking the attacking yored,
Breathtaking with a frightful, deathly glamour
The scarlet banners are fluttering ahead,
Sun brightly shines on scales of heavy armor,
The flood of raiders is filling foe with dread.
Breathtaking the attacking yored,

A reverence inspires the rows of Dwarves,
Stern faces of the underground fighters.
In a rigid wall of shields they forthwith morphs
And craggy peaks of mountains rocking mighty ,
When their frightful battle beller roars .
The reverence inspires the rows of Dwarves.

Enchanting songs by the arrows of Elves,
If you escaped, you will remember ever.
Slide merry singers in their wooded realms
Between the trees, send arrows, aiming clever,
And sow the death. Surviving, in your mind will etch itself
Enchanting songs by the arrows of Elves.,

But we don't see the beauty in the war,
For us it is the usual workload.
With heavy packs on backs, in gears, that we wore,
Run, sweating, through ravines, avoiding open roads,
Blood-bathed nights, advances and withdraws...
No, we don't see the beauty in the war .

To learn, to persuade, to steal, to kill.
To outwit the death and to survive again.
To live among the foe and having had the fill,
But, yet, for years have your home abstained.
We cannot change our toilful way at will -
To learn, to persuade, to steal, to kill ... "

Ghai finished and fell silent. Ghash too, was silent for a while, wiped something from his cheek and said:
- Okay. Read, Ghai, read. We came in here for it, that all of this can be read. By everyone. Read.
- Can I? - Beamed Ghai. - I will sit here for a while. It still some poetry in there. I have never read the poetry. On the whole village we have just one book. Oghrs are being taught on it. In there's no poetry.
- You can, - confirmed Ghash. - Just be careful with them, so they won't fall apart from antiquity
- I'm not a baby, - Ghai got offended. - I understand.
Ghash again wiped something from his cheeks and turned to me:
- Do you know, Chsham, if I'm not mistaken, and old books do not lie, there is one more door somewhere here. Will you crack it open?
- Of course, - I shrugged. - You brought me here exactly for this purpose .
The door we found quite fast. It was not thick, not covered with a wrought iron, not like the others. The simple door, just like doors to living rooms in our Tuckborough. I even did not have to crack it , it flew out with a one kick .
Behind the door was quite a small room, the three walls were lined with shelves holding very thick tomes. In the middle stood a fragile round table. Next to it - a chair with a high carved back. On the table, on a brilliant bronze tripod was resting a ball about the size of my head.
Ghash came to the table, sat down in the chair and with hand wiped the dust from the glassy, reflecting the light of torches, surface of the ball.
- If the crop-eared did not lie, - he said, - this thing should work.
And he put his hand on the top of the orb. For a while nothing happened. In the light of the torches I did not notice that the ball began to glow. It lighted up with a soft, pearly light.
With bated breath and with a pounding heart, I watched as the ghost light flared up, giving way to the coming through inside vision, as if someone was rubbing the ball from inside. At first came out something moving along the inner surface, which turned to be a soft cloth and fingers that hold it . Then the cloth was removed, and close to the glass came a handsome clean-shaven face. The person breathed on the glass, and the cloth wiped off the appeared on it misty trail and once again gave way to the face. The face was about to breathe on the glass again, but suddenly his eyes widened, his mouth opened, and I was surprised to hear the shriek coming from the ball. A moment later in a ball can be seen only a quickly running out human figure, but still could be heard the incessant scream.
- Let's wait, - said Ghash, removing his hand from the bowl. - You should sit down. It's probably a long wait.
After looking around, I found some stool and sat on it, staring into the ball. Nothing was going on in there. Then inside has appeared an image of two men. The people approached, and the ball filled up with a new face. The old man's face. Strict has been his stare and strong was fold of his lips .
- Who are you? - Sternly asked the old man with a voice accustomed to command. - Who are you? And how you dare to look into the Palantir?
- Gondor Krimpatulagh Atul! - Ghash said, and his face became stern too. - Hello, the Great King!

Last edited by Olmer : 06-20-2018 at 10:41 AM.
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Old 06-01-2016, 08:55 PM   #44
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Many years have passed since the summer, that so drastically changed my life. Many leagues had left behind me since. Many marks of others blades were left on the body, and a lot of blood had been tasted by my own blade. I have the same old blade - the gift of Uragh before his death. It just got a little thinner and lighter from meetings with a whetstone. Oghr, who eventually has uncovered Ghazatbuurth's secrets, and maybe came up with some of his own, not once was trying to alter my kughri, promising to lighten it, and to weld on its new blades, which are equally good at hacking the dwarf iron and Khand's silk. I forbade him to touch my sword. The heavy gift of Uragh has never failed me in all these years, and my memories are getting revived every time looking at it.
Ghash says that my relation to the sword is not like of uruuk-hai's. He believes that in this I behave more like Gondorians, that are giving names to their swords and believing that in them lies a special, inner strength. Maybe he's right, sometimes I really feel that my blade has a large portion of Uragh's strength and courage .
Ghash, he is often right. It is strange, he is eleven years younger than me, and as many times wiser. From each life events he manages to extract a lot more than I do. It turns out that he is younger than me for years, but much senior in an experience. At one time I have thought that all Uruuk-hai are like him. But then I realized that it is not so. Ghai, for example, has remained a reckless boy. It seems that the years have changed in him only the color of his hair, but this is noticeable only on long trips, when is no time and nowhere to shave the head. Then a stiff silver-brown bristle grows out. The silver has appeared not only in Ghai's hair. Oghr's red shaggy hair have long been mottled, and his forehead became much higher. Ashy hair of Ghash also changed its color and thinned out, and, if he used to tie them up into a lush, beautiful tail, now it turns into only a modest silver tassel. Even in Mavka's straw-white braids are hiding thin silver threads. Only my hair remained the same. This is not surprising. Hobbits are long-living people, and I also was drinking the Ents draught. Even by the standards of Hobbits I destined to live long.
My current years - the maturity, I am still very far away to the old age. Only is sad to see how quickly are growing old those you love.

Ghash deceived me. I understood it in a moment, when he welcomed the Great King of Gondor. It's not the book the shaghrat was needed in Barad-Dur. Actually, not only the books. He needed the very Barad-Dur. With all of its contents. With ancient books, a forgotten Palantir, with huge melting furnaces and gigantic hammers, with filled up to the rims underground reservoirs in the heart of the arid desert. The shaghrat did not come here for a knowledge of the long dead . He came here for the inheritance. For the great legacy left by the deceased people. He did not come for the sake of the memory of the dead. He came for the sake of the future of the living.
It was easy to see what will happen after. Not only the city, once was buried under the ashes of the Mount Doom, will get revived . The whole nearly died country will revive. On its arid sands from oases of the bitter lake Nurnen caravans of bactrs will carry salt and food. The abandoned mines again start to produce iron, coal, copper, tin, silver and lead. In the karghana's gigantic furnaces and under its hammers, by a labor of snagas and a wisdom of oghrs, all mined up will be transformed into products for which to the north Gate of the twilight desert, as in former times, will go caravans from Khand, Harad and Umbar. And on the ashes of the past will appear a new, huge and complex world, the world in which the descendants of the "not seeing the light" can look up to the skies without squinting.
All of this Ghash did not tell me in that memorable conversation between us at the Misty Mountains. I was not offended. He could not tell this things to a guy, that was hired for two bags of coins. He already knew that the emerging world will be awaiting not an easy fight for its existence. He did not want to create chances, that some time after could fall like a stone on another side of the scale. The extra knowledge can be a heavy stone. Now I also understand this.

While I was pondering all of this, the Great King of Gondor and Ghash stared at each other. Then Ghash suddenly laughed and said:
- Do not play with me a staring match, the Great King. I am not a Nazgul, and I do not turn away. I was taught from an infancy to stare into the eyes of the elf and not to look away.
- Who are you? .. - Sounded from the Palantir, not as confident, as at the first time. - And what do you want?
- My name - Ghash, - said the shaghrat. - In Westron it means a Fire Demon. In Sindarin, you can call me a Balrog. But my name is not important. It is important that I represent the voice of one hundred and seventy-nine buurths from Angmar to Ithilien.
- I have nothing to talk about with you, Orc! - Said the King.
- If by "orcs" you mean the people of uruugh, with which your soldiers are fighting in Ithilien, then I do not belong to them. - said Ghash. - I am an Uruuk-Hai, "the warrior, who sees the light," and I'm not afraid of the sun.
- Perhaps the wizardry of Saruman has provided an opportunity for such, as you are, to live in the sunlight, but you still remain minions of darkness! - Arrogantly said the King. - There is nothing to talk about!
- You say - "darkness!," the Great King, - Ghash leaned to the ball, almost touching it. From my side it seems that right now he and the King will knock their heads together. - You are condemning me for the kinship with those, who for thousands years could not see the sun. But should they be blamed for the choices of their fathers? Am I should be held accountable for that? If so, then you, the Great King, should look back in the past too!
Or you're not the descendant of Isildur, who seized the Ring of the Dark Lord? Or you're not the descendant of the Númenorean kings, that moved their armies to the Undying Lands, seeking with the sword to win immortality and the Light of Valinor?! Or eight princes and kings of Numenor, who became the Nazgul, did not belong to your people? Perhaps, you think THEY are the faithful servants of the Light? If your Light is like this, then what you call the Darkness?!
- What for you dwell on my ancestors, Orc? - The King smiled coldly. - What for is this phrase-mongering? You are not talking with them, but with me.
- Exactly, the Great King, - confirmed Ghash. - I'm talking with you. And I want to ask you: did you never give in to the evil in yourself? Do not you, the Great King, sometimes have happened to lie, cheat and betray?
- You're confusing me with you, Orc, - said the King. - I've never served the Darkness.
- I'm not talking about the service, - said Ghash. - I just asked did not happen that the Great King had to yield to evil in himself?
- It did not! - Proudly told the King. - All my life I gave to the fight against the evil!
- Yes ... - nodded Ghash. - I know ... But I'm not talking about the universal evil, with which you are fighting, killing those, who are tainted by it. I'm talking about that little evil that nests inside of you ...
- What are you talking about? -The King shrugged. - I do not understand. ? Do you understand yourself what you are talking about?
- I'll tell you, the Great King, - Ghash's voice became sad. - Do you remember the shore of the Great River at the Rauros waterfall? Remember the little halfling and his heavy burden? You swore to go with him to the end, no matter how hard the road would be. And you left him alone ... Why, the Great King?
- You know pretty much, Orc. - The King laughed. - From where?
- From the books, - said Ghash. - From the Red Book of Shire. I've read it.
- So you're also quite learned, Orc - The King did not consider essential to hide his amusement. - Well. I could not answer you, but I will satisfy your curiosity. The halfling wanted it himself. He had to think. If you was reading this book, you could read and that, too.
- I can not just read, - Ghash said, - but, also, understand the meaning of the written. You were the leader of the group, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Your only task was to guard the Keeper and his burden. You yourself swore to him in this. And you left him alone. Why?
- HE wanted it! - Irritably muttered the King. - I told you!
- No! - Shook his head Ghash. - You didn't tell. He wanted to think alone. Let it be so. But for fifteen years you had served in the army of Gondor. Don't you know how the head of detachment acts in such cases? Rather than leave him at the campfire to sit in solitary and to think, and you the with rest of the group stay on guard, protecting him at the distance, you have sent him into the forest alone, but yourself stayed by the fire and entertained the rest of the company with an idle talk. Why did you do that, the Great King?
- HE WANTED it!!! - Suddenly shouted the man behind the glass of Palantir and banged his fist on his desk. Our table shook, and the Palantir jumped on the stand. - He wanted it, and he had the Ring of Power. His desire was impossible to disobey!
- Turned up the one, who disobeyed, - said Ghash, - and, despite the Ring, went with the Keeper to the very end. . And it was not you, the Great King. You simply left the Keeper. You knew that somewhere in the woods orcs were on a prowl, and you sent the Keeper into the forest. Alone. You knew that a slippery wretch, the former Ring-bearer, is following close behind you and you let the halfling walk away. Alone. And how long would be his journey after that? It's not your merit that someone came forth, who went with him. Went and saved him from all plights. You simply betrayed the Keeper, Aragorn, son of Arathorn! You betrayed the one, to whom you yourself had offered your friendship. Betrayed the one, who was trusting you. And he did not even realize it. Throughout all his life he considered you as a friend.
- Do you want to blame me for something, Orc?! - Angrily said the King of Gondor, and his eyes flashed with fire, just like of the talkative skull in that malevolent hall.
- No, - shook his head Ghash. - I don't want. And am I to blame someone. I know that evil breeds in all of us, and to squeeze it out from yourself you have to with your own blood. I do not blame you. I know that the will of the wearer of the Great Ring cannot be disobeyed. Especially if he is Maya.
- Do not say, what you do not know ... Orc, - wearily said the Great King.
- I know, what I'm saying, - said Ghash. - Does not your Grey Overseer convinced you that you need to do just like that? For the sake of the world, of course. After all, he was so eloquent and so convincing.
How can you resist the reasoning of the being, that hundreds of thousands years older than you are? How can one resist the will of the one, who can move mountains with a word? How one can have a cool head when he is getting convinced by the Maya, who is wearing the Ring of Fire, which was given to him for the benefit of a fiery persuasion? "ONE RING TO CONVINCE - ASH NAZGH THRAKATULUUK". What could do you? What could others do? Parselmouthed Rohan sage only questioned the truth of the words of your mentor and became a wormtongued nonentity. Denetor , the Steward of your throne, dared to object to him and got his mind forfeited .
Even Saruman - the White Wizard, wisest of the Wise, Head of the White Council, the one whom the Elves called Curunir. Even he did not stand against your Mentor and lost his power, and his wisdom, and he was Maya too. I have no need to blame you, the Great King. Also, I am in no way to blame your Grey Master. You and I cannot even imagine the horror of understanding, which he experienced, when the Ring of the Dark Lord was dropped into the fire of Mount Doom and the chain was broken. Even for the great Maya it was impossible to resist the temptation: no one could argue with him for two and a half thousand years .
Probably only Lady Galadriel had realized what is happening to him, and who he begins to turn into. She had been a seer, after all. The entire weight of the Darkness was on one side of the scale, and only a hope - on the other. But she did everything, that depends on her, that this precarious hope come true. Even more than that, perhaps. Without the phial with Star of Earendil, that she presented to the Keeper, he and his companion would never have come to the Mount Doom. And by now the world would be ruled by a the new Dark Lord, who was able to speak so persuasively, that everyone, who has heard him, will be considered his will as their own. So, I am blaming no one for nothing, the Great King. I just wanted to remind you that from the beginning of time the evil lurks in each of us. The power, majesty and wisdom do not protect against it. And in that we're equal.
- What about you wanted to talk with me, Orc? - The King interrupted Ghash . - It is not for the sake of talking about long-forgotten people you have got to the Palantir.
- I ... - Ghash rose from his chair and stood at attention, - I speak on behalf of all people of Uruuk -hai. I offer you a peace, the Great King!
- Peace? - The King was amazed. - Are you offering me the peace, Orc? Did I hear it right?
- Yes, the Great King, - Ghash said, sitting back in his chair. - I offer you the peace.
- The peace with creatures of darkness? - Continued to marvel the King. - It's impossible!
- Why do you call us the "creatures of darkness", the Great King? - Asked Ghash. - We are not afraid of the sun.
- You were born by the Darkness, - said the King. - Those, who were born by the Darkness, can not turn to the Light. Even if you are no longer afraid of it.
- The Darkness can not create, the Great King, - said Ghash. - It can only distort. You say, that we can not turn to the Light, but don't you think that the Impartial One, who created the world, is so cruel, that withheld its shine for the living, even if they were maimed by the First Liar? The Light of the One permeates the world. Maybe we have got a smaller fraction of it, than you. I will not argue about it. But why do you refuse us even in it?
- I cannot judge the will of the One, - said the King.
- "As long as the black banner with a silver tree are fluttering, under its shadow there is no place for the house the Impartial One!" - Ghash said, as if reading, . - I know. Even so, but you are the Great King. Why you don't climb the mountain and ask the One himself?
- What for all these words, Orc? - Asked the King in a tired voice . - You made me listen to you, and so you'd better talk about the real matter before I become bored. You offered me the peace. What will I get in exchange?
- Is the peace not enough? - Amazed Ghash. - Think about, how many years is lasting this war? How many lives were burned in it? Is not it good enough to have at least a few years without the war?
- This war was started not by us, - said the King. - And not by us will be finished. Even if I'll agree to the peace with the orcs, then - what? I won't last forever. Maybe another three decades will pass by - I will die, and everything starts over again.
- Do you think that thirty years of peace are not enough, the Great King? - Surprised Ghash raised eyebrows . - Indeed, I find it hard to understand you. You talk like an immortal elf, for which there is neither past nor future, but only the eternal present, and for which the three decades are just a brief moment. But you're not the elf. Have you forgotten how long people live? In thirty years will grow a whole new generationin of your people, who has not heard the clashes of swords and the whistling arrows.
- And how fast will grow in numbers your orcs in thirty years? -The King quipped. - Still, we have nothing to talk about, Orc.
- You'd better think about your people, the Great King, - said Ghash. - And not about mine. We are not afraid to die. Rather, death scares of us, than we of her, because we believe in the goodness of the Impartial One, and we believe that he hears our words, when we appealing to him. For us the death is a meeting with him. Think of your people, the Great King! Look how tired they were from a thousand years of war with all the surrounding nations. Or do you think that the glory of your people depends on the amount of shed blood?
A few days ago I also thought that the courage of a warrior is to kill the enemies, as many, as you can .Now I know that the warrior prowess - to save lives, as many,as he can . Think of the children of your people, the Great King. We do not want this war. Leave alone Ithilien's orcs, and we can make sure that they won't disturb Gondor any more.
- Ithilien, - thoughtfully said the King. - So that's your little game and that's all of these nice words. No. Ithilien - is a land of Gondor. It always has been and it always will be!

- It was not always like this, - said Ghash. - Let your historians to delve into ancient scrolls. Perhaps they will find in there the name of the people that lived on the land long before the Black Sails of Númenorean ships had appeared at the shores .
- I have already answered you, Orc! - Said the King. - This is the land of Gondor and always will be!

- Why Gondor wants it? - Asked the shaghrat. - What for? Are tillers of Pelennor, or fishermen of Lebennon wanting to move there? They did not go after you to the land of orcs even a hundred years ago, when your people, indeed, were in a mortal danger. Then to the Gate of the desert you brought only six thousand of those, who live only by the war. Those who eat their bread from the tip of the sword. The rest refused to go with you to foreign lands. Your people are ready to die defending the threshold of their houses, but they are not eager to take a hold of what does not belong to them. Why do you strive for it?
- Our conversation became meaningless, Orc - The King replied, yawning. - We speak in different languages. You are the spawn of the Darkness. You'll never understand me, and I'm sick and tired of listening to you. Goodbye.
The walls around us jolted. And then again and again. The heavy rumble of striking huge hammers got reverberated around the underground. The King in the Palantir slightly turned his head, it was evident that he was listening out to the thundering.
- I regret that I did not have enough of wisdom, - Ghash said, putting the hand on the lighted ball, - and I did not find the words that would have touched your heart. I will look for other ones. But with saying goodbye, I am asking: think about what I said, the Great King. Do you hear that sound?
In the getting cloudy glass of Palantir the Great King of Gondor barely perceptible noded.
-The hammers of Barad-Dur are pounding again!


Instead of an epilogue

My name is Sam. At birth, I was given a different name, but my friends call me that. Even not like this. They are lisping and speaking through the nose, instead of "C" they are uttering a strange hissing sound, and I do not know how to put it on a paper. Also they draw out the vowels, and it comes out something like "Chsham". But, still, it means "Sam." They say it's in honor of my grandfather. It is even strange, that they like him so. But now the name "Sam" is carried by me - Chsham. I am not "Chsham-the-Shelob-killer". I'm not Chsham, whose will, multiplied by the Ring, have thrown into a battle against each other the detachments of Shaghrat and Ghorbagh. I'm not Chsham whose unspoken a desire-order was obeyed by hundreds, and maybe even thousands of soldiers, by "not recognizing" the two hobbits and allowing them to mingle with them. I am not Chsham - the friend and companion of the Keeper. I am not Chsham, who "worn and gave back the Ring of Power." In my share there was no great feats. I am just a hobbit that has not been in his native Hobbiton for a long, long time, and maybe will never see it again. I don't regret it. I chose it myself. I am an Uruuk-Hai, "the warrior, who sees the light." The people, who became my family, gave me that name. So be it. My name is CHSHAM ...

Last edited by Olmer : 06-01-2016 at 08:58 PM.
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