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LOTR: TMCP Ch. 337
🕑 Added 2025-11-12 01:43:03 +0000 UTC"That's even better."
Seeing that Garrett had joined, Gandalf quickly voiced his approval. After all, this fellow had nothing better to do anyway. If he could be roped in as a helper, why not?
Once that was decided, Garrett asked, "Tell me about your intelligence. Be specific."
"It's in Ithilien, somewhere near the Crossroads," Gandalf recalled. "To be honest, I'm worried. That area's far too close to the Witch-king's domain. If not for the recent reports, I'd have suspected Gollum had already fallen under his control."
"Oh?"
"So you're saying Gollum is near Minas Morgul?"
"Yes," Gandalf confirmed.
"I see," Garrett smiled slightly.
"I'm quite familiar with that area. I even have a base near the Crossroads, and..."
"And?" Gandalf waited for Garrett to continue, but the latter paused mid-sentence.
He shook his head. "Forget it, I'm not entirely sure."
"Not sure about what?"
"Not sure whether the orc chieftain has been replaced, or if there's been some internal shift."
"What does that have to do with us?" Gandalf asked repeatedly, clearly confused by Garrett's remarks.
"There are always unexpected things in this world, Gandalf. Even among orcs, there might be those with minds of their own, though they're likely unstable."
Gandalf thought for a moment. "I'm not sure if that's possible, but if, and I mean if, that's true, then it would be a rare sight indeed, perhaps the first of its kind."
Sauron's shackles were hard for even the strongest heroes to break, let alone the orcs, who didn't even have souls.
Yes, orcs had no souls. Gandalf, with his unique identity, understood this better than anyone. He carried memories of that race. Most orcs were merely beasts shaped into human form. A few rare and powerful ones who appeared different were usually beings that chose to take on the form of an orc. It was only a disguise. In essence, they were something else entirely.
For example, the Goblin-king of Goblin-town, rumored to have lived for thousands of years, was very likely a fallen Maia who had adopted an orc's appearance, albeit a relatively weak one. In the end, the orc species as a whole simply didn't have the willpower to defy Sauron. Well... not that there could never be exceptions. Nothing in the world was truly absolute.
"Who knows," Garrett said, "sometimes things just turn out strange. Maybe something in the mind suddenly snaps, and a person's whole way of thinking changes and never goes back."
"That's quite true," Gandalf agreed, seeming to relate deeply.
The old wizard had roamed Middle-earth for two thousand years and met more than his fair share of people with loose screws. Sometimes their minds were so twisted he wondered if they'd been possessed by Morgoth himself.
No, that wasn't right. Even Morgoth wasn't that deranged.
After a brief discussion, they wasted no time. Garrett set out that very day, departing ahead of Gandalf. He took a shortcut through the Nether portal, swiftly arriving at his base near the Crossroads.
Once he emerged from the outpost, he headed straight toward Minas Morgul, specifically, the nearby Cirith Ungol Pass.
It was a narrow, winding pass along the northern side of the valley near Minas Morgul, one of the only two routes from the West that led into Mordor. The other route, of course, was directly through Minas Morgul itself, along the road called the Morgul Way, which reached deep into Mordor's interior.
Naturally, if anyone outside Mordor thought they could just stroll into that path, they were deluding themselves. With the Witch-king sitting there, it was a place even Gollum would avoid, utterly shunned by all.
As expected, Gollum had likely stumbled upon Shelob while trying to find a secret path into Mordor. After that encounter, he must have started serving her, bringing her fresh prey to eat.
That giant spider had long been forced to survive on nothing but shriveled, stinking orc meat. For some reason, the orcs had grown wary lately, and even feeding on them wasn't enough to sustain her. So when Gollum appeared, agile, stealthy, and capable of fetching her fresh meals from afar, she cherished him dearly.
"But that ends today."
Garrett narrowed his eyes slightly, gazing toward the valley north of Minas Morgul.
Gandalf and Aragorn had no idea what was happening in this region, but Garrett knew perfectly well.
"Shelob, then. Let's see what's going on."
Without any attempt to conceal himself, Garrett strode straight toward Cirith Ungol.
Nearby, a few orcs were crouched in the grass, gnawing on maggoty bread. One of them suddenly looked up and froze in terror as a figure radiating intense heat swept past. It was so frightened it forgot to breathe, nearly fainting on the spot.
"Why is he here?"
"Quick, go tell the chief!"
Instinctively, the orcs who spotted Garrett rushed off to find someone stronger to handle the situation.
"Don't bother with him."
When the news reached the camp's crippled orc leader, he immediately barked that order.
Seeing his underlings' confusion, he stood up and roared at them:
"You worthless maggots! What are you panicking for?"
"He's not here for us, and not for the Witch-king either! So why should we get involved?"
The chief's booming voice quelled his troops' fear at once.
"True enough."
"No wonder he's the boss, sharp as ever."
If that being wasn't targeting them, and they still went poking around to annoy him, that'd be pure suicide. If Garrett got irritated and, in a fit of temper, stormed through the poisonous mists of Minas Morgul and beat someone senseless, things would turn ugly fast.
The best move now was to stay quiet. Whatever was going to happen, they'd deal with it after he left.
Privately, the orcs and Uruk-hai pondered their leader's decision. Most of them thought it was incredibly wise. It kept them safe and didn't defy their master's orders.
What they didn't know, however, was that their crippled chief was barely able to contain his excitement.
The moment his subordinates weren't looking, he slipped out through a back path, sneaking away from camp and hurrying in the direction Garrett had gone.
A faint breeze pushed aside the dust-filled, murky air, making Garrett frown deeply.
Mordor's environment was truly awful. Back in Ithilien, there had been green fields and thick forests, but near the Ash Mountains of Mordor, everything had turned to scorched, bone-dry wasteland. Only a few blackened, lifeless tree trunks marked the change in scenery.
This kind of place, if it were ever conquered, couldn't possibly be livable.
The pollution Sauron had wrought was so deep that, if left to heal naturally, even an entire Age might not be enough for it to recover.
Still, that didn't matter. Those were problems for the future.
After walking a while, Garrett arrived at a narrow, silent pass. He began ascending the stone steps that led upward.
