Saruman

by Eru-(Valar)
June 11, 2000
Stories > Authors > Eru's stories > Saruman

    My busy hands pause and the pestle which has been working in the mortar hangs idle, forgotten.  A wisp of sulphurous smoke rises lazily from it's polished interior as I listen, head cocked slightly to one side.  Was that the summons?  Is He calling me again?  My mind shrinks away from the thought of Him.  But the fear is replaced by anger.  How dare He treat me as one of his slaves!  I, the chief of my people and one of the Ainur!  How dare He!
    As always though, I abandon my activities and take the long stair, winding ever upwards to the very top of my tower.
    I pass narrow windows which afford me a panoramic view of my domain.  Nan Curunir they named it - Vale of the Cunning Mind - and I smile in satisfaction; if only they knew the truth!  Stretching out from my pinnacle of Orthanc, which the men of Gondor carved from the hollow of an extinct volcano, I can see the roads and fortifications which I have added to this place.  They now will serve my purpose, for this is a great fastness in a lair of enemies and I am beset on all sides.
    Standing not half a mile from the tower is the great outer wall, tall and indomitable, and beyond that to the north is great Mathedras, the last white-capped peak in the southward sweep of the Misty Mountains.
    Eventually, the age-worn steps reach a black iron door, a door to which only I have the Key.  The well-used lock turns easily and I open the door to reveal the Chamber of Seeing.
    A single high-backed padded chair of Dyr wood stands behind a table of black obsidian in the centre of the circular, domed room.  Runes of power on the marble floor circle the table, warding against unwanted visitors.  The table and chair are only incidental to the room's main feature, however.  Atop the table, resting on a simple mithril pedestal is a glass sphere, twelve inches in diameter:  The Palantir of Orthanc.
    As I sit down, it's surface is plain, even dull.  Then I gaze compulsively into its depths, reaching out to the only place which it will now allow me to view.
    The Palantir suddenly clears and I see dark, swirling clouds over tall, cruel battlements.  Winged beasts bear riders clad in black across the sky on some mission of their Dark Master.  My Dark Master.  Then He comes and gazes with a cruel intensity upon me, and my will evaporates.
    Sometime later, I descend from the Chamber of Seeing and return to my work, content that I am Master of Orthanc and satisfied with my plans to assail the foolish people of the West.
    Soon I shall recover the prize which was lost long ago, and then He will bow before me, Saruman of Many Colours!

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