Curumo, slices of vice. by Chiara Cadrich

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Doubtful shadows


TA 2848 - Gandalf and his ward - a Tuck - are pursued by dark brigands. Saruman pulls them out of trouble with the help of his dunlending allies.

... Saruman the White walked in majesty, still inhabited by the wrath of battle. Approaching Gandalf, he held out his hand. The gray wizard bowed respectfully:

- "Saruman ..."

The white wizard, who had masterfully restored a difficult situation, savored this deference for a few seconds before raising Gandalf with a noble gesture.

- "Please, my friend.", Saruman whispered with a serious and compassionate tone. Shall I be entrusted how you ran down the countryside, with a band of brigands at your heels? ". The conniving and jocular voice called for a confidence.

As Gandalf brought some care to the hobbit who lay nearby, this lack of deference antagonized the great Saruman:

- "Your compassion honors our order, Mithrandir, but have you nothing more useful to do than mothering one of these rascals? Are you sure you choose your priorities with sufficient discernment? "The voice was that of an eminent strategist trying to raise the debate before a board of promising but turbulent young captains.

Gandalf, concerned about his companion’s health, was paying little attention to Saruman, who approached, looking vaguely anxious:

- "Your ward needs the oblivion of sleep. Let me do it! ". A tone of a healer in the fullness of his art, left no alternative. Gandalf parted with gratitude and hope.

"Look into my eyes, my young friend. Fear dissolves into sleep! "Enunciated the white wizard with a bass voice, softly authoritarian and soothing. Then he ran his hand through the blond curls of the hobbit, who relaxed, laid down and fell asleep.

"He will keep no memory of his trouble. And now will you explain to me?", Saruman ended with a tip of annoyance which required a report.

- "I have to open myself to you... about disturbing events" began the gray wizard softly.

- "When Gandalf comes, so follows the storm! You are often the heart of the turmoil! ", quipped the soft voice of a General speaking confidently to a proven aide-de-camp. I am listening, my friend. "

- "Eriador is no longer guarded. The rangers of Arnor have evacuated the southern parts. They have deserted the country from Sarn Ford up to Tharbad, and my messages have remained unanswered.

- Indeed this deficiency and silence are of concern. But I have long stopped relying on a single ally. There is nothing to expect from the scattered remnants and ruins of Arnor, I'm afraid. Their lineage has failed a long time ago...

- Yet they are reliable, and this is much nowadays.

- Your naivety would be touching if that was not a fatal error! What is our use for such a strength, continuously declining or defeated at the first alarm? "

Gandalf, lowering his head, continued his speech:

- I fear that winged spies assist our enemies, and our movements are crossed.

- Gandalf, your route is written in letters of fire. For those who can read signs, you leave a blazing trail throughout your journey. No wonder your whereabouts are known! ". This time the mocking tone was tempered with no shade of kindness. Upset Gandalf persisted:

- "I may explain the rangers’ failure, only by a major offensive! Many men, well equipped and provided with gold, are spying around Tharbad. They terrorize the weak and bribe the others. But beyond river Gwathló, I know no force able to sustain them. Where do they come from? "

The strong voice cut in stark terms:

- You finally get to right conclusions! I spotted these brigands several months ago. They obviously come from the east, gathered and trained by a master that I know now. And I am taking care to stop this threat personally, as you have noticed. When I'm done with them, their corporation will be driven out of Eriador. You do not seem to understand that a power is about to raise, Mithrandir. "

The tone of Armies’ Grand Commander brooked no reply. "A power struggle has just begun, we must keep control of the western regions at all costs, otherwise we shall fall. I shall deal with this war. "

Yet Gandalf objected:

- "I still do not understand who they are and why they followed us!

- You are boasting about a reputation of yours, that deserves us, Gandalf!", The voice had lost its sweet tone, animated only by annoyance and a strand of jealousy. Then Saruman resumed as an angry but just father, in pain for being forced to severity:

- "I do not think your young friend has any interest, neither for you, nor for your attackers. These brigands sought after you. You are always at the heart of the storm because you provoke it! "

Gandalf was going to protest, but Saruman sternly interrupted his subordinate:

- "You draw too much attention on yourself. Your vow of humility seems to wane in pipe-weed smoke... Or do you wish to shine in the eyes of the White Council?"

The white wizard was careful not to reveal anything about the power he had unmasked. Noticing Gandalf’s livid face and compressed lips, Saruman took on a more conciliatory tone, as for a reprimanded, but very much liked student:

- "I urge you, from now, to apply your faculties to perseverance and effectiveness, by showing you more circumspect. Promise me to deploy your talents to good use, only without witness! "

The dunlending clan, which had pledged allegiance to Saruman, now held the brigands as prisoners, kneeling and bound to each other in front of a lying trunk. Their weary and resigned heads bowed over their chest. They seemed to have no illusion about their conquerors’ clemency. With a triumphant grin, the clan leader went forth under the cheers of his warriors in tartan. Suddenly brandishing his great battle ax, he beheaded one by one the few survivors, without further ado.

Gandalf rushed, but was stayed in his tracks:

- "No, Mithrandir! This people makes war his own way. What right do you have to judge them, since you have not been expelled from your ancestral lands? Besides, you are indebted to them by the law of blood - without them, you would weep for your young protege... For this is a merciless war, which stake is the balance of power in the North and the opportunity for each people to shape their own destiny. Indeed I tell you again: I cannot, no more than you can, leave a witness behind us... "

Appalled Gandalf bowed, sick at heart. His superior had called him out in many respects.

Saruman walked away, satisfied with his firmer influence on his subordinate. It was necessary to neutralize him, whereas keeping his goodwill: he could prove useful later...

.oOo.

 


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