Plague Comes to Dol Guldur by Uvatha the Horseman

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Day 4 – Delirium

Khamul chooses the clothing his Master will wear to lie in state.

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Day 4 – Delirium

Dol Guldur, TA 1637 - Summer

Sauron opened his eyes in the grey dawn and saw Akhorahil standing over him.

“The medics telfl me you wet the bed during the night.”

“Can you say that a little louder? I don’t think everybody heard.” Sauron said.

“For a while there, when you couldn’t keep anything down, you lost the ability to pee. That’s not good. It meant you were dying. But we managed to get fluids into you, and you started to feel better almost immediately. The medics were so pleased, they woke me during the night to tell me you’d wet the bed.”

“You mean, in addition to setting fires and torturing small animals?” he asked. [1]

“Anyway, you’re obviously getting better.” said Akhorahil.

ooooo

Sauron was still feeling well an hour later, when the clatter of metal trays let him know the orderlies were serving breakfast on the ward. An orderly set a tray down in front of him: tea and toast and a cup of clear broth. The portions were small, but he couldn’t finish them. Still, he convinced himself that because he could eat again, he was sure to be out of there soon.

He looked up when a medic entered the room.

“You’re new. Where is the medic who was taking care of me these last few days?

“He fell ill during the night. He’s a patient in Section Two today.”

“Oh.” Sauron fell silent, troubled by the news. “I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good man.”

ooooo

Akhorahil called a meeting with Angmar and Khamûl.

“He isn’t doing well. He’s not lucid, he doesn’t recognize anyone, and he doesn’t know where he is. Other patients as sick as he is now have died. I’m just telling you, we need to be prepared for whatever happens next.”

“His fever isn’t any higher than it was late on the first day. Surely he isn’t any sicker now than he was then?” asked Khamûl.

“He’s been fighting this fever for four days. He’s getting tired.” said Akhorahil

“The fever has the same strength as before, but he doesn’t. Four days ago, he could still walk. Today, he can’t lift his head from the pillow or turn over in bed without help.

“He sleeps most of the time. He’ll be awake for a few minutes if somebody talks to him, but otherwise, he’s sleeping. He wasn’t like that yesterday.

“The thing is, I can’t fight it for him, he has to do it for himself. And if he decides he’s too tired to go on, then he’s in great danger.”

Akhorahil excused himself and left the Council Chamber. When he was gone, Khamûl said to Angmar, “You’re the one who knows him best, so you’re the one most likely to know his wishes. How would he want to be buried?”

Angmar said, “I don’t know what to do.”

“We need to talk about it.” Khamûl said.

“I can’t. I just can’t do it.”

“Why don’t you let me handle the details? Just give me a few ideas and I’ll take it from there.” Khamûl said.

Angmar nodded, grateful.

“What do you think he would want to wear while lying in state? Something formal, like ceremonial robes, jewelry, a crown? Or something simple?”

 

“Simple. Black robes in cashmere wool, finely made.”

“What would he want to be holding? A sword? A mace?”

“I don’t think so. Even though he’s a warlord, he sees himself as a blacksmith rather than a warrior.” said Angmar.

“And would he want to be buried or burned?”

“I don’t think he wants an elaborate tomb. I think he would prefer a funeral pyre.”

Khamûl nodded and went off to make preparations. He had to select the room in which his Master would lie in state. There wasn’t an audience chamber or a throne room in Dol Guldur, since Sauron was in hiding and didn’t receive visitors. There was a tiny sanctuary where they made sacrifices to Melkor, but it was too small to hold everyone at once.

Khamûl thought about how to make it work. If they put the bier in front of the altar, and marked a path for the line of viewers, then everyone could file past. Afterwards, there would have to be a memorial service, and speakers. He’d have to plan that next.

Khamûl was glad to have something to do, even though it was a sad task.  They were playing a waiting game now, and the waiting was hard.

 

 

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Chapter End Notes

[1] A set of three traits, wetting the bed, setting fires, and cruelty to animals is associated with psychopathy.

 

Sauron is not a psychopath, he is a malignant narcissist.