The Last Othellan

A meeting at Isengard

I was becoming restless as the horses picked their way across tree roots and branches swayed calmly around me. Aelfen was also bored of walking, I could sense. Perhaps when we returned to Edoras, I would take her for a proper ride. I had yet to test her on an all-out gallop.

Gandalf was leading the riders, with Théoden, Aragorn and Legolas taking precedence after him. I rode behind Legolas and Gimli, but happily my boredom was alleviated by raucous, familiar laughter.

I smiled in relief as we rounded the corner. Merry and Pippin sat on a crumbling wall with Isengard, flooded by the ents, lying behind them. The centre, Orthanc, was a huge, imposing black tower, and seemed to be the only thing that remained undamaged by the ents in their march.

The hobbits, too, however, seemed none the worse from their own experience. They were surrounded from their vantage point on the wall, unsurprisingly, by food and an abundance of pipe weed. As our party drew near, Merry stood up, swaying slightly, doubtless from the almost empty tankard beside his seat.

"Welcome my Lords – and Lady – to Isengard!" he proclaimed loudly, gesturing back at the great stone tower. I rolled my eyes, though there was still a smile plastered on my face as Merry and Pippin surveyed the group in front of them with grins stretched across their mouths.

"You young rascals!" Gimli reprimanded. "A merry hunt you've led us on and now we find you feasting and – and smoking!"

"We are sitting on the field of victory enjoying a few well-earned comforts", Pippin answered lazily, chewing happily on a piece of meat. Merry blew a puff of pipe smoke triumphantly into the air and Pippin continued. "The salted pork is particularly good".

"Salted pork?" Gimli questioned furtively, his eyebrows raised in sudden hope. I chuckled.

Near the front of the line, Gandalf shook his head, muttering to himself. "Hobbits"

Merry pointed vaguely towards Isengard. "We're under orders from Treebeard, who's taken over management of Isengard". I raised my eyebrows in interest. An Ent?

Pippin sat behind Aragorn and Merry behind Éomer as we proceeded into the murky water surrounding Isengard. It went halfway up the legs of the horses, and my nose wrinkled a little at the faint Orcish smell originating from it. Rohan's guards rode behind, and I came up in between Legolas and Aragorn as we waded through the ruin around us, returning a content grin cast my way by Pippin.

Something I had never dreamed of encountering came towards us through the water. The Ent groaned strangely as he moved. The lower part of his face was covered by a long stream of moss. Treebeard stood at least sixteen feet high. His branches were thick and ancient, but the amber eyes peeking out from the bark were as alert as in any creature's. I refrained with difficulty from staring with my mouth open at the incredible being above me, with years, and perhaps some wisdom, that was far beyond that of any other present.

"Hmm, young master Gandalf" Treebeard greeted as we met in the water. He elongated his words slowly, as if his deep and melodic voice wished to consider every syllable. "I'm glad you've come. Wood and water, stock and stone I can manage, but there is a wizard to manage here, locked in his tower". As he spoke, Treebeard led us to the foot of Orthanc, the great black tower in the centre of Isengard where Saruman was evidently now trapped.

We stopped in front of it, and watched. "Show yourself", I heard Aragorn whisper challengingly, his eyes fixed on the tower ahead.

"Be careful" Gandalf warned. "Even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous". The wizard's eyes flickered across Aragorn to mine for a second, willing me to heed his words. My hands stiffened on my reigns slightly and I gave a tiny nod to show him I understood.