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His cloak flutters behind him in the wind, like the
wings of some great raven poised to strike down its
prey. From underneath the hood of his cloak stare two
red eyes, gleaming with bright malevolence. By his side
hangs a long blade of some unknown dark metal, and on
the hand that rests on the pommel of that blade is a
ring - a simple band of gold - plain and unadorned.
He is the Witchking of Angmar, later to become known
as Womanslain. He stands before the riders of Mordor
he commands, outwardly confident, but silently brooding.
What morality know these men I command? What honour?
Great they may once have been, but now they only continue.
But no longer will he allow his Dark Master complete
command over him. He will see the Middle Earth outside
Mordor, and learn from it, so that when he return he
might reshape his land.
"Riders of Mordor, all is in readiness now. We shall
away - seek ye Baggins."
An orc approached his horse as he is about to ride off.
"Master, I beg you - you do great ill to leave the Mouth
of Sauron in charge of your affairs whilst you are gone.
I swear he shall betray you."
"No good servant he shall not. Though he has sought
to betray me, usurp me, and kill me in the past, I believe
he has changed after all we have been through. Did I
not hold him at daggerpoint and yet spare his life.
He will not betray me, if only for that."
The servant looked unhappy, but the Witch King reared
up his dark steed and rode on through the Black Gate,
leaving the orc behind....
**********************************************
Hard the Witchking and his followers rode, and by the
seventh day they had reached the borders of Isenguard.
The tower of Orthanc rose high above the city's walls,
looking like a long crooked finger silhouetted against
the evening sky. But it appeared vritually undefended.
A few skinny orcs stood by the walls, whilst orc children
played amongst the felled trees outside.
The Witchking mistrusted this however, and instructed
one of his riders to scout ahead and report back. The
remainder sat back in their saddles waiting in silence.
The scout did not get far; he had gone only a few yards
when a great white light flashed from the of the Tower
and lightning crackled down from the light obliterating
the rider.
"Ah, what I fool I was to tempt Saruman so. Now only
eight strong shall we ride to his gates?"
Some of the other riders shifted uncomfortably.
"But I believe there is another way. Though it galls
me to call upon such spirits, I see I have no choice."
And he dismounted, and sat down on the hard earth to
meditate. Onyl after five hours did he speak the name
of his master.
"Sauron. Sauron. Sauron, answer me."
A glowing red eye flickered into existence seeming to
weaken and corrupt all it looked upon. The rage that
burnt around it was almost palpable. The words were
not spoken, but the Witch King heard them.
"Do not flee your destiny Witch King. It is meant for
you to find Baggins.
"That is for me to say Sauron."
"Why do you fight your destiny?"
"I am my own master, not desiny's slave. I mean no disrespect
master, for I shall serve you nontheless."
"Ah, Witch King, you are the finest of my slaves. The
talisman of Macguffin that hangs around your neck will
protect you and your company from the sorcerous defence
that Saruman has errected. Go now to your destiny."
The eye disappeared from view.
"Riders, foward. Let all in the city feel our wrath.
Too long has Mordor tolerated Saruman the White. What
great negligence on our part not to have wiped him and
his followers from the face of the earth in the first
great war. But now, now it shall be different."
And with that the Witch King kicked his heels into the
sides of his dark steed, and charged into the city,
at the head of his dark company.
"Blood! Blood! Blood for my Lord Sauron!"
And as he rode forward, again and again his Morgul blade
lashed out felling children, and adults alike. The Morgul
Lord's red eyes blazed, and though none could see it,
his face was fixed in a hideous grin. His sword was
the vengeance for all the treacheries of Saruman.
And he offered the souls of those he slayed to his Lord
Sauron. The Lidless Eye, the master of treacheries,
and foremost of the powers of evil on Middle Earth.
And those who followed him would say they had seen a
black cloaked devil that day. He had been more than
a Ringwraith - he had been destruction and chaos incarnate.