With Hope and Without Hope

Chapter 43: Out on a Limb

Not all the trees of Isengard had been cut down. Rather, some had merely been freed, it seemed. For this tree walked toward Legolas as if its roots were feet. He stared, then blinked. His eyes were unused to daylight. And it had been long since he had had water or food. Could this be a creation of his mind?

The tree approached and stopped before him. Bending in half, the top of its trunk came closer to him, so that Legolas saw it had eyes, deep, brown, ageless eyes, and soon proved to have a mouth as well.

"Hoom-hoom!" the creature said, and Legolas jumped. His own eyes widened as the creature continued to speak in its language. It spoke, for all it looked like a tree. Switching then to the Common tongue, it asked, "Is this another orc?" It tilted its head and considered Legolas. "It smells like an orc."

If the sight were not amazing enough, Legolas then saw two more behind it, busy at work, apparently. They appeared to be dismantling structures across the field. Another was at the far end of Isengard near the dam.

Legolas returned his gaze to the creature before him. He gasped as he remembered an old tale—could this be a tree herder? An Ent, that was the word in the Common tongue. What would they be doing here? He struggled to stand, looking with unconcealed curiosity at him.

The Ent looked at him for a moment. "Hoom... you might be an elf if I did not find you here. But then, this is a wizard's home. The better question would be: are you a friend of Saruman?"

Legolas laughed, not noticing the edge of hysteria lacing it. Leaning heavily on the balustrade, he answered the Ent in a rasp of a voice he barely recognized: "I am no friend of Saruman. I am indeed an elf and his prisoner, and I have been left to the orcs."

Legolas held up a grimy arm with an iron manacle still wrapped around his wrist. "I have been held captive for ...I do not know how long. It is no wonder I no longer appear as an elf. I now seek escape from their torture."

"Prisoner? Saruman now keeps Elves as prisoners!" The bark around the edges of the tree herder's eyes crumpled into what Legolas realized was a frown, and its voice deepened as he spoke of Saruman. "That wizard becomes more of a traitor with each day. You say you look for escape from orcs? You will not go far on that ledge."

"I have nowhere to go. I can only hide until they find me. And they will." He had already heard their shrieks grow louder as they approached. "But I will not return to the depths of Orthanc. The beasts thought to make a meal of me. I would rather plunge to my death from this height than return to their hands."

The orcs were louder now—they had reached this level. "There he is!" They saw him on the balcony. As they neared, Legolas struggled to swing one leg then the other over the balustrade. Refusing to look down, he clutched the railing as best he could with one hand, his right too injured to be of use.

He glared at the orcs with all he had left in him. The orcs, in turn, paid him no notice. They instead stared in a stupor at the walking tree before them.

"What is that?"

"You dope! It's a tree!"

"Trees don't walk!"

Then the orc who had first grabbed him in the Pit arrived in the crowd. He glanced at the Ent, but it was Legolas who held his interest. "There's the elf! Forget about the tree! Get hold of him!"

The orcs turned to Legolas as one. It was time. Legolas leaned back, preparing to release himself. But suddenly the tree herder was there.

"There is no need to dash oneself on the rocks below." The orcs hesitated as the Ent reached out a limb that ended in a cluster of smaller boughs. "Step onto my branches." Legolas stared in awe at the escape offered him.