With Hope and Without Hope

Chapter 20: Words for Saruman

Watching Strider speak with Merry, the depths of the man's weariness surprised Pippin nearly as much as Strider's failure to hide it from them. Pippin had not thought to ever see the end of his endurance, nor to be the cause of it.

They were all at their limits. Even Legolas, though he sat quietly, revealed his pain through his stiff posture. And now here they were, in Saruman's Tower. Surrounded by this black stone, without light or air, was there hope for escape any longer? His pointless attempt two days previous had gotten him only a lash on the legs. Legolas's attempt—more hopeful or more desperate?—had earned the elf far worse. Pippin found it hard to expect another opportunity.

What was clear to him was their need to think swiftly, if Merry and he were to do anything to help the others. For once Saruman learned that the hobbits did not have the Ring, he would likely see no reason to keep them alive. The thought twisted Pippin's stomach with fear, but he knew it for the truth.

He wondered, would Saruman kill them right off? Would he give them to the orcs to play with until they died of their torment? Would he put them under his spell till they finally revealed the secrets they held? Pippin didn't know which possibility chilled him more.

Saruman had proved secrets were no great obstacle for him. He had but to ask and the answers poured from one's mouth, it seemed. Pippin shivered. Aragorn—no, Strider—barely kept his secret from the wizard. What chance did he, a mere hobbit, have? What would he tell Saruman in the end?

His heart racing, Pippin turned to the doorway as a clamor of footsteps approached. As much as he feared seeing who or what would pass through the entrance, he could not tear his eyes from the opening. The dimness gave way to light as fires burned in sconces not lit before.

As Saruman's figure filled the doorway, dressed in white robes, staff in hand, he seemed larger than he had standing before the forest. Then, there had been something soft about him. Pippin had thought of Gandalf, and how this was someone Gandalf had once held in high esteem. This wizard before them now looked hard and cold and brought no thoughts of Gandalf.

Pippin suppressed a shudder as orcs surrounded them, pulling them to their knees. "Kneel before your Master!" The wizard wore a smile that failed to reach his eyes. The smug expression annoyed Pippin, but when Saruman's eyes landed upon him, Pippin trembled.

Saruman strode across the room and took a seat on his throne, an elaborately carved chair in a recess opposite the entrance. "Welcome to Isengard." He smirked as he looked upon each of them in turn as they knelt in a rough half-circle before him. "So, this is the rag-tag company who decided they knew what was best for all of Middle-earth."

He scrutinized them carefully. "There were more of you at the start," he said slowly. "Yes, I know much about you. And Uglúk has related to me your attempts to thwart his task. Perhaps your losses and the consequences suffered have taught you the foolishness of this errand. If not, you shall soon learn."

He turned to Pippin and the hobbit's stomach flipped. "Some losses are unfortunate. But of others, I must know more. This need not be an unpleasant visit," Saruman continued, his voice softer than before. "Simply provide me with the whereabouts of the other halflings, and you shall be spared."

Gimli let out a boisterous laugh, startling Pippin. "You truly think us fools. There is no such thing as mercy in this tower. We would sooner take our chances with the orcs!"

Saruman scowled. "Well, then," he said after a long moment, "if you prefer to do so, you shall. Fagrod! Take the dwarf below. Do what you please."

Pippin's mouth dropped open in time with his stomach. He heard Merry gasp quietly beside him, and even Legolas's eyes widened as he watched orcs take Gimli away.