With Hope and Without Hope

Chapter 36: Time to Go

Saruman approached the halfling, who once again doted on the man. He hoped his suspicions regarding the gravity of the wound would prove true, as the man was too important to his plans to allow him die now. "Halfling, tell me, what is the progress of the Dúnadan's wound?"

The halfling rose as soon as he spied him. Gratified that the little creature was finally learning some manners, Saruman hid his approval. "Eh, the progress is, em, well enough, Mr. Saruman. The infection has gone down. It's not quite so red and angry now, well on its way to being healed, in fact."

Saruman turned to the man. "Stand, Dúnadan!" When the Ranger rose to his feet more slowly than he would have him, the wizard turned expectantly to the halfling. As the halfling moved to offer the man a balancing hand, Saruman considered the aid the halfling had provided him. Without the halfling, the man would not have received such care unless he had been able to provide it himself. Mayhap he would have died as he claimed without such tending, if he spoke the truth regarding his wound.

Saruman looked at the Dúnadan. "Walk to me," he ordered, frowning as the man reluctantly took a few steps, heavily favoring his good leg. His limp was less pronounced than yesterday, though it lingered. Saruman suspected that if need be, the man would find himself without a limp. He must confirm how much the leg truly pained him. When the Dúnadan reached him, Saruman swiftly swung out his staff and struck the injury.

The man howled and fell over, crashing into the wall and sliding to the floor. He glared at Saruman. "Do you yet believe," he said between panting breaths, "I am trying to deceive you with this injury? Are you now satisfied I am truly injured?"

"Hm. That will have to do, I suppose." He turned to the halfling. "You are to prepare the Dúnadan for travel. He will be riding, so if there is anything you must do for his wound, do that now. We leave in a matter of hours."

"Hours? So soon?" Saruman smiled to see the halfling so alarmed. He wondered what plans for escape this one had been dreaming.

"Yes." Saruman thought again of the usefulness the halfling had shown. He might continue to be of service, in addition to improving the wizard's stature in the eyes of others. "And you should prepare for travel as well. You will accompany us." Saruman took a moment to enjoy the look of shock on the halfling's face before leaving to continue his own preparations.

*****

"Uglúk, make certain that all the orcs are armed before they set out. You are my assurance that they will be prepared to move out. You must start out tonight to reach Edoras within four days."

"Yes, Master. It will be done."

"You will halt your march ten miles outside of the city. Stand ready for my order to attack."

Seeing the halfling pass through the hall with a pot of water, Saruman called him over. "You will help Uglúk prepare for the journey. Help him gather supplies." The halfling gave him a wide-eyed stare but said nothing. "Do you understand? Answer me!"

The halfling nodded blankly. "After I finish with Strider, I will help Uglúk prepare. I understand."

Saruman narrowed his eyes. "What more must you do for him?"

"I am washing his wound with more hot water. The more often I do that, the faster it heals. Though, I'm not at all certain he's ready for riding."

"Get him on his feet and walking. He will soon become accustomed to moving about. See that he is ready when the time comes to leave."

"He would heal faster with some food and water," the halfling said in a small voice.

Saruman frowned. Was the halfling attempting to create more delays? "Then give him some! But you best be ready when I come for you."

Hours later, Saruman returned to the main hall. Approaching the Dúnadan, who yet sat in a corner of the alcove in which he had left him, he asked, "Where is the halfling?"

The man looked at him blankly for a long moment. "I know not. I have not seen him in some time."

"Rise! You best be ready to ride." Not waiting to see if the man obeyed, Saruman turned from him to the pedestal on which sat the palantír. Grabbing the Stone from its bed and slipping it into a sack, he turned to the man, who now stood looking not at him but at the bag he carried. He was pleased to see the fear that peeked from behind the stoic expression. "Come," he commanded. "There is no need to wait any longer. We leave Isengard now."