It was foredawn in Imloth Melui. The eastern sky was already glowing red, and the stone buildings and statues of the town were colored purple.
Delioron stood waiting in the empty courtyard, watching the stairs to the great main doors of a white marble guesthouse built atop the highest hill of Imloth Melui.
Demrîng was on his way to Minas Tirith already. The game was over for the Mordorian spy, but not for Delioron. He was still standing there out in the cold alone, wondering how the game would end for him.
Would he have to kill the man who resided in that guesthouse? And if it came to that, could he do it? Delioron was suddenly afraid; more afraid he had been in a long time. Saruman was one of the most powerful people in the world. Delioron did not know much about the powers of the Istari, but he knew Saruman was a mighty wizard with great magical powers. Perhaps he would strike Delioron dead with a fireball or a lightning bolt on the spot, or turn him into a toad or something. Was he insane to even attempt what he was about to do? Suicidal?
But he had to solve the riddle. He had to understand what was the third factor, the missing element that had been messing things up since the beginning of the assignment.
And where would Radawen find safety now? She had to have the diary in her possession now. Everyone was certain of it. What would she do with it? Would they kill her before she had a chance to do anything at all?
Delioron shoved his dagger back under his belt, pulled his cloak over it to conceal it and walked across the courtyard. The wound on his stomach was smarting. He had tried to ease the pain with herbs and wine. He had changed a fresh bandage on the wound two hours ago. The wound had stopped bleeding days ago and the risk of infection was over for now, but it was healing slowly. There was a risk it might open again if he wasn’t careful.
He climbed the stairs, slipped through the doors and went across the empty hall to a stairway in the back. He walked up the stairway to the second floor and through the quiet hallway until he came to the door.
The door was easy. He pushed his lockpick into the lock and turned it until he heard a click, and the door opened effortlessly.
Saruman the White was sitting on a chair by the window, fully dressed in his white robes. There was no fear in the old man’s eyes as he turned his head to regard Delioron, only mild curiosity.
”Who comes into my room like a thief in the night?” Saruman’s voice was calm, deep, booming and very compelling. The voice caressed Delioron’s ears like a hand caresses a pet. Delioron could not help but feel allured, almost hypnotized by the old man’s voice. He had to shake himself out of his trance to step inside the gloomy room and let the door shut behind him.
”I wanted to surprise you”, he said. ”I wasn’t sure if it was needed.”
”As you can see”, Saruman said softly. ”I am waiting for the morning. I do not sleep.”
”We have a problem”, Delioron said.
”Who are you? What do you want?”
”I am called Delioron. I am sure you have sent letters to Minas Tirith to make inquiries about me. After you met the man from Mordor.”
”Did I now?” Saruman said in his soft voice, with a hint of amusement. He waited for Delioron to continue.
”We have Demrîng. He’s on our side now.”
Saruman raised his eyebrows. ”I have no idea what you are talking about.”
”I’m talking about Demrîng. He has betrayed his masters in Mordor. And the agreement you have made with Sauron, whatever it is. I want you to tell this to Sauron.”
Saruman sighed. It was the sigh of a man who had grown very weary of all the burdens of the world. He glanced through the window at the brightening morning. The streets were still empty. Only silence accompanied the daylight flooding into the room.
”This town”, he said softly, absently. ”It is so pleasant and so pure. It reminds me of a white tomb concealing rotting flesh. You can see who I am: The Lord of Isengard. Yet I have come here as a simple gravedigger, to bury a loyal servant whom I loved like a son. And Romenstar! Let us not forget about poor Romenstar, who knew so much things worth killing for, but in the end so very little. I think he came back to a world much crueler he had known back in Rhûn. He was too innocent to live.”
”What did he know?”
Saruman shrugged. ”You mean the secret he supposedly wrote in his diary? I do not know, and I do not know if it was worth killing for.”
”Demrîng was certainly willing to kill for it.”
”Ah. Demrîng. Your spy from Mordor. The one I supposedly met with.”
”Don’t lie to me. I know everything.”
”Then there is no need for you to ask any more questions”, Saruman said in his irritatingly calm voice. ”Certainly, we met. He assumed I would be of use to him. That I could serve him. You know, there is not much real difference between the realms of Mordor and Gondor when you really think about it. The same arrogance, the same tedious need to be right.”
”What did Romenstar know?” Delioron’s voice had not changed. It was still expressionless, flat and sharp. ”What is your business with Sauron? What hold does Sauron have over you?”
”Over me?” Saruman laughed melodiously. ”You have to seek answers to these questions elsewhere. Ask Demrîng, your spy from Mordor.”
”There is no time for that. Radawen has the diary.”
Saruman made no move. Then he turned a little in his high-backed chair and looked at Delioron. ”How do you know?” he asked, very slowly.
”Because there is no other chance.”
”Where is she?”
”I don’t know.”
”I believe she is in grave danger.”
”She is.”
”Does that affect you?” Saruman asked, looking at Delioron with mild curiosity.
Delioron stared at the old man patiently. His eyes were frozen, his bearing merciless. He said: ”You have made a deal with Sauron.”
”Is that a guess?”
”It’s the only possibility.”
”You rely on your logic too much.” Saruman grew silent and ran his fingers along his wizard’s staff. When he talked again, his words were very slow and measured, his voice melodious and hypnotic. ”Perhaps I will talk to you. Sometimes it is good to talk, to bounce off one’s plans and ideas of someone else. But of course you will not remember any specific details of our conversation after you have exited this room. You will only remember that it went well for you, that you got what you came here for. The same is true with Demrîng. Certain details concerning his dealings with me are… clouded in his mind. I cannot afford to allow my plans to become known just yet. It is too early.”
”What’s too early?”
”Martun is dead. Romenstar died without even knowing the reason why. As did Maegon. So much blood has been spilled already.” Saruman stared at his white hands. ”Perhaps I do not want to tell you anything more. Perhaps I do not find you intelligent enough to understand or appreciate my plans. Perhaps I do not want to cast pearls to pigs. It would only give you... indigestion.”
”You have made a deal with Sauron”, Delioron repeated. ”To share the power with him once the West has fallen.”
Saruman smiled. ”Now you are guessing again.”
”But it cannot be very far from the truth.”
”Sauron is a practical sort of enemy”, Saruman said. ”Like your Steward Denethor, he has found that there are limits to his power. Perhaps Sauron has realized he has a need for a new, reasonable ally.”
”And you have offered your services.”
Saruman looked up, irritated for the first time. ”And what exactly do you think will happen in a few years time? Sauron’s might keeps growing while Gondor has grown weaker generation after generation. Soon it will fall, and all the world will fall into darkness with it. You have to be pragmatic with these things. You cannot rule a kingdom through honor and virtue. This has always been Gondor’s failing. You want things to be done your way or not at all. That is why Sauron has a lot more allies than you do. He is much better at ruling than any ruler of Gondor ever was.”
”So Isengard allies itself with Sauron. Do you think he will keep the promises he has made you?”
”You speak of things you know nothing about, little spy”, Saruman said. He fell silent and looked out the window. ”A long time ago I was given a task to help the Free Peoples against the growing shadow of Sauron. A long time ago I realized the Free Peoples are fighting a losing battle. There is hope still, but for a decisive victory sacrifices must be made. Sauron suffers from the same hubris, he trusts his powers too much. That will be his downfall. I can save the Free Peoples, yes. I can do a lot more than just save them from Sauron. I can save them from themselves. I can enslave Sauron and usher in a new age of men, an age of prosperity and progress far beyond your imagination and comprehension. But I do not expect your limited mind to understand anything I say.”
”And what does any of this has to do with Romenstar? With Rhûn?”
”Rhûn is not within my sphere of interest. It never has been.”
”Perhaps Demrîng told you that the agreement you made with Sauron was in danger because of Romenstar”, Delioron said. ”Perhaps Romenstar’s secret endangered it.”
”I see you are beginning to get closer to the truth.”
”You sent Martun here to find out the secret, a secret you would have used as a leverage against Sauron. But then Demrîng killed Martun.”
A shocked expression spread upon Saruman’s face briefly before it assumed it’s characteristic calmness again. ”You cannot know that for sure.”
”Demrîng killed Martun”, Delioron repeated.
Saruman’s face remained calm, his voice retained his soft, hypnotic rhythm, but anger now burned deep within his dark eyes. ”Damn him then”, he said. ”Damn him, and damn Sauron! There will come a time when Sauron will pay for all of his crimes. But it will not come through honor or glory in the field of battle. It will come through sacrifices very few are capable of. If you live long enough, the years to come will show you that I was right. That everything I have done and everything I am about to do were made out of necessity.”
Delioron said in his sharp, pitiless voice: ”I have no interest in discussing your rotten philosophy with you. I want to hear the details of the bargain you made with Sauron.”
”The details are of no consequence to you. They will not help you find the woman you seek. Or the diary. You will not even remember the details of this conversation once you have stepped out of this room.”
Delioron pulled out his dagger.
”You would seek to end my life with that primitive toy?” Saruman asked, his expression a mixture of annoyance and amusement. ”You arrogant fool! Do you not understand that I could end your life like an annoying housefly? Do you fail to see that I could make you cut your own throat with but a single word?”
Delioron waited. Saruman sighed.
”I could make you cut your own throat if it amused me”, he said. ”But today is your lucky day. Killing you would not serve any purpose. I know what you want from me, and I will oblige you. Demrîng, the spy from Mordor, will not be welcomed back to Mordor. He is a traitor to Sauron, and as a traitor he will be hunted by the agents of Mordor until the end of his days. That will be his price for killing Martun. Sauron will have to wait for his time, but rest assured, it will come before too long. Go now, little spy. Go play your little games. Disturb me no more.”
The voice of Saruman was compelling, and Delioron found himself putting his dagger away and turning to leave the room. Already the details of their discussion were escaping his memory like the details of a dream in the morning. It did not matter. He had come here to make sure Saruman would corroborate the evidence of Demrîng’s treason to Sauron, and he had been successful. Had there been something else he had wanted answers from Saruman as well? Was there another reason for his coming here? It was so hard to remember…
