Sauron's Worst Nightmare by Uvatha the Horseman

Concealed Weapons

Concealed Weapons

The Prison Fortress of Mandos, Date Unknown

The routine never varied. The guard brought a tray at mealtime, put it through the pass-through, and collected it afterwards. Sauron spoke to him every time he came in, but the guard never answered and never made eye contact. Sauron was outgoing by nature, so it was hard on him.

The guards were under orders not to talk to him because Sauron was known to be charming, deceitful, and very, very manipulative. Námo and Manwë didn’t want to give him any opportunities to talk his way out.

Sauron had no one to talk to, so in addition to being bored, he was lonely. He was frustrated by the guard’s silence and considered various ways to get him to talk. The second day of his imprisonment, when the guard came in with a breakfast tray, he said with studied casualness, “So, you must not have searched me when I was brought in here. Or if you did, you did a poor job of it. The knife I always carry in my boot is still there.”

That was a lie. He did carry a little knife in his boot, but it was missing, and so was the dagger he’d been wearing on his belt when he was captured

The guard looked right at him and said, “Hand it over, then.” He pointed to the pass-through. Enjoying this game, Sauron said, “Come and get it.” Finally, someone was speaking to him. What a relief.

“Tell you what.” said the guard. “I’ll trade you the knife for the tray. You go first.” Sauron didn’t really have a knife, so he acted as if he were being stubborn. The guard shrugged and left the room, taking the tray with him.

Sauron picked up the water pitcher, pouring yesterday’s water down the drain hole before refilling it with cold water from the spigot. He turned the handle and a small trickle of water ran out, then nothing. He poured the water from the pitcher to the cup and found it was only one finger deep. He regretted pouring the warm water down the drain because he didn’t know how long this game was going to last.

At noon, the guard returned with a tray for the midday meal. Again he spoke. “A trade. The tray for the knife. You’ll get the water turned back on, too.” Sauron was getting tired of the game by now. Like all Ainur, he could go a long time without food, but he was starting to be uncomfortable from thirst.

“You win. I’ll do what you want. But I don’t actually have a knife. I just made that up.” The guard gave him a look of disbelief and left, taking the tray with him. The trouble with being an accomplished liar is that people don’t believe you when you’re telling the truth. His word was not good and everybody knew it.

In the late afternoon, the outer door opened and his guard came in, followed by four others whom Sauron hadn’t seen before. One of the new ones, apparently the guard captain, carried a pair of irons connected by a short length of chain.

The one with the irons motioned Sauron over to the grating near the pass-through. He told him to sit on the floor with his back to the grating and put his hands through the holes in the grating. Sauron did, and didn’t like it. The guard captain fastened an iron cuff around each of Sauron’s wrists and locked them with a snap. Chained to the grating, Sauron tried to make himself comfortable by leaning against the wall and watching the guards at work. His nose itched. He felt resigned.

The first guard unlocked the grating hatch. He and the second guard knelt on each side of the hatch and pulled back the latches on each side. Another lifted the hatch cover and held it open. Three guards climbed through the hatch and began to search the cell. The fourth, who remained outside, released the hatch cover which closed with a clang and locked itself shut. The guard captain also remained outside. He stood near Sauron and watched him closely.

Sauron wondered idly how the furniture had gotten into the cell. Maybe it had been brought through in parts and assembled on the inside. He wondered how he had been brought in. Most likely on a stretcher, passed through the opening in the grating by two pairs of strong hands while a third one held the door up.

The guard captain spoke. “We’re going to have to search the cell and everything in it, including you.”

The three guards searched the bedding and turned over the mattress, feeling for metal. They looked underneath the bed, table, and chair. They looked in the pitcher. They flipped through the pages of the books and under the writing paper. They searched every corner of the cell.

Satisfied there wasn’t a knife hidden in the room, the guards walked toward Sauron, regarding him with detached interest. “You’re next.” They stood around him in a half circle, looking vaguely threatening.

After they finished with him, Sauron decided that trying to fight them off was probably not the best idea he’d ever had. Especially not three against one, with his hands behind his back. But he was bad-tempered from hunger and just hadn’t felt like cooperating, and he was a fighter by nature. So now he knew what it was like to like to lie face down on the cold stone floor with his arms twisted behind his back as far as they would go and a boot on his neck. Never mind the searching part, which got a lot more personal than he had expected.

The two guards who had remained outside opened the grating hatch to let the three guards in the cell leave. After they were out, the hatch cover banged shut and locked itself closed. Only then did the guard captain produce a key and remove the irons from Sauron’s wrists.

The unseen guard watching through the spy hole unlocked the outer door when they were ready to leave, and the five of them filed out. The door swung shut and locked itself behind them.

Sauron stood and rubbed his wrists, which had gone numb. Then he tried the spigot. Water flowed freely. He put his head under it and drank.