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6 Fourth Age: Ever Searching
Topic Started: 5 Sep 2008, 08:40 PM (845 Views)
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His grip released her wrist at once. A malevolent ecstasy tugging at his black heart, the Hand of Sauron let her walk free and unharmed.

“The belly of Gondor,” he murmured to himself, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. “Interestingly, this is where some of my servants are headed too.”

A young child paused in her step, a giggle threatening to break loose at the Hand of Sauron, who was now standing in the marketplace talking to thin air. One frigid stare from him killed the laugh in her throat. He leaned down, but still towered over the little girl.

“One day, this city of yours will burn and everyone you love will lie slaughtered in the streets. When that day comes, remember my face and know that it was you who caused it.”

The Hand of Sauron was gone, like a shadow retreating from the noon sun. Although the woman called Leoynna had passed the other way, he was not troubled by it. They would meet again, someday, in the belly of Gondor.

“There is a woman,” he barked at the Warg Riders, “headed for Gondor. Follow her! Do not harm her. Do not even touch her. I want to know where in Gondor she goes.”

Two Wargs, with their Orc Riders, bounded off into the wilderness. The Hand of Sauron swung himself up onto the black warhorse that was once meant to carry a Nazgul. The animal did not know what terrible fate it had been spared.

“We go to the Easterling King,” he announced, and kicking his mount too harshly in the flanks, led the way down the crumbling road towards the Sea of Rhun.
 
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