Story of Khamul, part II

Journey passed peacefully. They crossed secret isthmus hidden between the walls of Ered Lithui, without meeting a soul. Orodruin slept silently, and all filthy creatures nesting in depths of earth, for which Khamul was grateful.

Soon before them loomed a lower mountain pass, which spread rocky tongue south, away from the main massif of Ash Mountains, protecting Mordor from the north. Necromancer several times pulled horse’s reins, sniffing in cool air and then again ran him again into a trot.

- Somewhere here is a stream. - he said - It has a source high in mountains, and flows into the lake of Nurn. We’ll make water supplies and go along the stream, to bypass Gorgoroth. -

After half an hour horses moved eagerly, sensing the smell of water. Soon they reached a small constriction in narrow rock throat, where from dark, volcanic wall flowed bubbling cascade of crystal water. Reached the plain, stream was expanding and turning sharply south, flowing lazily in shallow trough on dry, rocky ground. There it took a slightly yellow color and barely perceptible odor of sulfur.

They stopped, allowing mounts to satisfy thirst and dismounted, filling almost empty canteenes.

Khamul dipped canteen, taking care not to slip on wet rocks. He was afraid of water since remember, and never learned to swim. But recently his fear intensified; so much, that simple thought of crossing the river or drive through, makes him feel sick. 

Captain seemed to not share his concerns; he washed his face and drank straight from cupped hands, then pointed ahead, on narrow trial, lying in a rocky throat, delineated by a stream.

- We’ll go this way. - he said - Is a bit slippery, but the canyon bring us forth the other side of mountains, and from there we’ll see the top of Mount Doom and Black Fangs… -

- It's the only way…? -

- The main trail leads through southern plain of Gorgoroth, but we would have to detour. -

Khamul sighed resignedly and mounted a horse.

The next hours were not the most pleasant of his life. They drove in silence trough stream and everywhere in the distance, sometimes less than a length of human arm, pressed tall, vertical rock walls. From ice water floated densely fume, and the only sounds were dripping of water, crunch of gravel under horse’s hooves, and quiet stream’s murmur. Here and there, running down another springs, splashing in the air light, icy mist. Khamul pulled deeper his hood, to protect against stings of cold water.

Finally, canyon widened noticeably, and the stream gradually dried up. They left between mountains unexpectedly; straight into quiet, peaceful darkness of plain Gorgoroth. Above, stretched cold, starry sky.

It was a new moon, but starlight gave enough light, let them see on wide horizon high, rounded crater of Mount Doom. Against the dark sky, barely visible sticks thin streaks of livid smoke.

Necromancer nodded west.

- Fangs of Barad- dur. -

Khamul narrowed his eyes, and it seemed to him, that far away, between the rock walls, he sees two thin iron spikes, disappearing in clouds.

They dismounted at the foot of rocks and laid to rest. Previously lit a small fire to dry wet coats and prepare a meal. This time, necromancer didn’t refuse his portion, perhaps tired of the long road.

- Tomorrow is our last leg of journey. - he said, sipping wine the meal - We’ll go through the plain and by night we stand at the foot of Black Tower. -

Khamul nodded and pulled up at the dying campfire, covering with a blanket.

- I'd be lying, saying that I haven’t any worries. - he said openly - I’ve never served anyone… I didn’t think, I'd ever had a lord above… -

Murazor shrugged.

- I also serve him… Though like you, I come from royal family. However, my life would be quite different, and if I hadn’t agreed to serve Sauron, I could only dream of power and knowledge, which has become my participation… -

- Let me ask, my lord… Is he a man…? -

Necromancer gave him a long look and slowly shook his head.

- Didn’t you hear what say those, who have seen him? -

- I've heard rumors. But I want to know the truth, before I’ll stand in front of him personally. -

- Alright then… Sauron is not a man… Although he looks like one of us, if he wishes so. -

Khamul was silent for a long moment, digesting this information. He expected denial; in depths of a soul, he never believed in supernatural origin of the ruler of Mordor.

- Then who is he? - asked finally.

- It’s one of those, who laid the foundation of world… His spirit is older than bones of the earth. We owe him obedience. - necromancer looked seriously at easterling, who stared at him with expression of amazement and disbelief - Yes, Khamul. You serve a powerful being, and if it’s anyone, who would you call a master, it is he. Besides… If it's any comfort,  I’ll be your immediate supervisor. Soon, you’ll meet the other seven… Once we bring them to Mordor. And now take some rest, tomorrow is your great day. - he turned aside and closed his eyes.

But Khamul couldn’t sleep for a long time. He realized that his life will change completely and he’ll never be an ordinary man again; not after what he’ll see and what he become part.

At dawn, they saddled horses and went by the dry, rocky landscape of northern Mordor. Sharp, shiny fangs seemed to grow in eyes, gradually revealing the backbone of enormous tower, built of iron and black stone, rising on a rocky headland and somehow embedded into the mountain’s bone.

It was monstrous. Khamul in his wildest imaginations didn’t expected such majesty and awe. It seemed to be statue of some ancient, forgotten power; still mighty. Somehow, this has just been.

Seeing his dismay, Murazor smiled to himself.

- Here is the fortress and capital of our country… - he said - How do you like? -

Khamul just shook his head in disbelief.                                                                                                

- Indeed, legends did not lie… -

They entered on hardened tract, and soon Khamul saw the first living beings in Mordor- several smaller orcs and one looking at half-troll. They watched him with equal interest and some fear, while to Witchking bowed low, almost falling to the ground in full of humility poses.

Easterling had seen once the orcs, but never so many at once. Also never wondered how look like female goblins… Now he saw both soldiers in black uniforms with emblem of blazing Eye on shoulder, as well as ordinary civilians dressed in a simple linen tunic and doublets. Male orcs definitely were more numerous, but in front of the caves and low, stone houses, he saw a group of children playing and a few women, recognizable only for abundant shapes and short growth; their faces were as ugly as goblin’s.

- Are there any people? - asked Khamul.

- Few. Probably you’ll see them closer to fortress. Orcs live in caves and villages on the outfields of citadel; many cultivate lands in south of country, where waters of lake Nurn enrich the soil. -

Khamul realized with some amusement, that legends of orcs etched in his memory so deep, that he believed they are bloodthirsty monsters who ate only human flesh, or in his absence, their own tribesmen… It was said, they are completely deprived of reason and free will- gifted with collective mind, like a swarm of bees and born from the earth.

Now he could see the same folk, like any other. Yes, they seemed to be created for war and life in darkness, but are there not many similar creatures on earth…?

When they entered the citadel, it was late evening. Both were weary and sweaty. Short, squat goblin took their mounts, and necromancer led his companion through the vast, paved courtyard, to the great building, partly brick, partly carved directly into the rock.

- Here is your chamber. - he said, pointing the way to companion - Got ready everything you could possibly need.  Take a rest and I will make report to our Lord… Probably he desires to meet you today. -

Khamul thanked and with unfeigned relief, went inside. He was exhausted and only thing, he dreamed about, was a warm meal and change of clothing.

The interior seemed very spacious. It contained several rooms, with separate entrance from the inner courtyard and terrace faced south. View of distant mountains and barely visible top of volcano was breathtaking; though it was different from green, endless expanses of the steppes.

According to necromancer’s words, guest doesn’t lacked for nothing. A tub filled with water, clean linen and change of clothing waited for him, as well as a sumptuous table. To his surprise, he found even bookcase with books, ink and fountain pens.

Barely washed up and finished the meal, Murazor visited him. Khamul noticed, he got rid of weapons and turned worn, traveling robes on a bit lighter clothing- breeches and a gray tunic tied at waist, but still was wearing inseparable, black coat.

- Lord Sauron wants to see you. - he said.

Khamul went after him through the courtyards and long, dark corridors of the citadel. He couldn’t hide the impression. Fortress was so monumental, almost overwhelming it’s vastness… Even too clearly indicate the strength and power of its master. Their footsteps rang hollowly, echoing from the thick walls and high arches.

Finally, they stood before the giant, double doors. On both sides burning with uneven glow two torches stuck in walls.

Khamul suddenly started to get nervous. He felt sweat trickles in the hollow of spine, when remembered what he had heard about the Dark Lord… Naturally, he didn’t believe everything people say, but… At this point, grim legends and rumors somehow spoke to him.

Murazor opened one wing of gates, giving him a sign to led the way. Khamul took a deep breath and hesitantly crossed the doorstep. When he passed, suddenly felt numenorean’s hot breath right beside ear.

- If he does something you don’t like… Try to control yourself and cease defend… - he whispered - And do not show fear. -

Before Khamul could ask, what the hell Sauron would do to him, doors slammed shut, leaving him alone in a dark room.

For a moment, thick, almost tangible darkness pinned him to the ground. He stood motionless, hardly daring to breathe.  After a moment, somewhat accustomed to the darkness and saw before him a huge, black curtains, protecting the entrance.

- Fool me… - he thought - Nobody would sit in total darkness… It's just a damn tapestries… - 

He pushed back soft, shiny velvet, and to his eyes appeared enormous throne room, with a high enfilade. On both sides rose arched windows, darkened with black curtains, and flames burning on  opposite wall… Fire lit from behind a stone throne, on which loomed sitting silhouette. That's all he could see entering, blinded by bright glow of flames.

Khamul appreciated the trick; that was a clever game designed to intimidate newcomer, which couldn’t see king’s face, while himself was clearly visible. As an excellent strategist, Khamul didn’t avoid similar games; reign of terror required a proper setting, and audience often took the form of carefully directed performance, showing the power and strength of ruler.

Despite this knowledge, he felt uneasy. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see something more, but in vain. Suddenly he heard a voice. Low and melodious, which sounded some inconceivable power.

- Welcome, Black Easterling. -

Khamul immediately dropped to one knee, lowing his head in a deep bow. That was the voice, he heard in dreams and sometimes awake, for the last ten years. It led him, when in battle frenzy he lose his nerve, told what to do in case of doubt… And finally summoned here.

- Hail lord, ruler of Mordor … - he said - You gave me eternal life in exchange for service… I came to fulfill my duty. -

- Come closer. -

He stepped uncertainly, still bowing low his head, afraid to see the Dark Lord. Sauron, however, reach out right hand and took him under the chin, forcing to look.

Khamul gasped with shock.  It was the most beautiful face he had ever seen; face with perfect, regular features and wide, strong jaw, surrounded by cascade of auburn hair. But eyes were not human; gold, blazing like fire, with vertical pupils stared at him fixedly, with the infinite calm of creature older than world. It was impossible to find in them any emotion.

And then Khamul felt touch of his mind; brush on consciousness’s surface, penetrated by sight of those omniscient eyes. Oblivious to necromancer’s warning, he squeezed his temples and defended with all strength, against crushing his will power. For him, men of secretive and distrustful nature, it was the most awful feeling he had experienced. Impression, that someone is reading his thoughts and memories like book’s pages was unbearable. Increasing hum of his own blood, resounding in ears almost deafened him. In throat he felt metallic taste of blood…

- If he doesn’t stop, I’ll go mad. - he thought - I'm tainted, humilated… -

Suddenly everything stopped. Sauron immediately withdrew from his mind, although it seemed like eternity passed.

He flinched, feeling a heavy hand on his shoulder. He realized, that Majar knelt beside.

- I didn’t mean to hurt you, servant. - he said - I had not foreseen, you'd react so strongly. -

Making sure that nothing threatens easterling’s, he went back and again took place on the throne.

- As you can see, I have a great power… But I want you to serve me willingly. I'll give you strength and eternal life, but most of all… I'll give you purpose. -

Khamul stood up unsteadily, hardly aware that from his nose and mouth flows blood. This time it seemed, that in those dispassionate, fiery eyes he saw a certain gentleness and concern.

- Excuse me, your highness. - said quietly - Fear received my mind. Do it again, if your wish, and I’ll endure without complain.- 

- My apprentice has made a good choice. I trust him, and I see that you were rated well; you are man of honor, with strong mind. You can go now, from that day all will change… But you won’t regret your decision. -

Khamul bowed and left the throne room.

When he came out and closed the gate, he staggered and leaned helplessly against the cold wall, breathing deeply and still swallowing blood dripping from his nose.

Still he feel in mind traces of a foreign presence, like a tingling sensation on skin after unexpected touch. He knew perfectly well, that Sauron could do what he wanted and the resistance would be for nothing. In his head grew a dull rumble, heralding  powerful headache.

He had no idea, what prompted him to resist the will of Dark Lord. Earlier, felt Sauron’s presence in his own thoughts, but at the distance it was quite bearable… He also suspected, that he took that voice for his own instinct… It was completely different, than stand in front of him when he was just a step away. He shuddered at the memory; never felt so naked and bare. Sauron actually did nothing to him, withdrew almost immediately, but how many he had seen…?

On the other hand… His action seemed rather instinctive and there were no signs of cruelty in it.

- Do not worry, almost all react so… -

Khamul had impression, that his heart stopped for a moment. Right next to him stood necromancer, leaned against the wall. Easterling didn’t notice his presence before and now gave him a grim look.

- You could have warned me, that our lord has habit of reading in mind. - he snorted - Maybe I wouldn’t do a fool of myself… - 

- I warned you. - necromancer replied calmly - Usually he avoid this, cause most mortals immediately falls into panic… Some even fainted. Given the fact, you went quite well. -

- You played a little at my expense, right? -

- A little bit… - necromancer smiled quite nasty - It was a test… Do not resent. -

Khamul sighed and crossed his arms. Now it occurred to him, that he actually didn’t notice how Sauron was dressed, nor what was his stature. He remembered only angelic face and fiery eyes.

- Is it, how he looks like? - asked - Or it’s some illusion? -

- Explain. -

- Well… They say, everyone who looks at his face is already lost, because his sight incinerate like a flame… And his face is ugly and similar to horse skull. I also heard, he is a giant. -

Murazor smiled, amused.

- As you can see, some people have very rich imagination… -

- I must admit, I've never seen such handsome face… But those eyes… -

- Lord Sauron is a powerful wizard, who can take any form, at will. Usually, however, he takes a shape you have seen to not create excessive terror among mortals… -

- And how he really looks like? - 

- Like a naked flame. Silhouette woven with fire. - numenorean reached into pocket and handed him a clean piece of cloth - Take this, the entire front of your shirt in bloody. I'll take you now to your quarters, tomorrow we'll talk. Also I’ll show you the citadel and explain new responsibilities. -

Khamul followed him, feeling a little better. One thing certainly enjoyed him- conviction that Sauron is indeed superhuman spirit… Finally, he believed without any doubt, that the ring will give him immortality and power.

That night he slept hard, without dreams, overwhelmed strange, incomprehensible peace- feeling, that so far has been quite unknown to him. Deep in soul he knew, he finally found a way to follow.