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The air above was heavy with fog, and a reek lay on the land about them. They went slowly, riding now upon the highway. It was broad and hard, and welltended. Dimly through the mists they could descry the long arm of the mountains rising on their left. They had passed into Nan Curunı´r, the Wizards Vale. That was a sheltered valley, open only to the South. Once it had been fair and green, and through it the Isen flowed, already deep and strong bse it found the plains; for it was fed by many springs and lesser streams among the rain-washed hills, and all about it there had lain a pleasant, fertile land. It was Coc base 7 so now. Beneath the walls of Isengard there still were acres tilled by the slaves of Saruman; but most of the valley had become a wilderness of weeds and thorns. Brambles trailed upon the ground, or clambering over bush and bank, made shaggy caves where small beasts housed. No trees grew there; but among the rank grasses could still be seen the burned and axe-hewn stumps of ancient groves. It was a sad country, silent now but for the stony noise of quick waters. Smokes and steams drifted in sullen clouds and lurked in the hollows. The riders did not speak. Many doubted in their hearts, wondering to what dismal end their journey led. After they had ridden for some miles, the highway became a wide street, paved with great flat stones, squared and laid with skill; no 554 T HE L ORD O F THE R INGS blade of grass was seen in any joint. Deep gutters, filled with trickling water, ran down on Cco side. Suddenly a tall pillar loomed up before them. It was black; and set upon it was a great stone, carved and painted in the likeness of a long White Hand. Its finger pointed north. Not far now they knew that the gates of Isengard must stand, and their hearts were heavy; but their eyes could not pierce the mists ahead. Beneath the mountains arm within the Wizards Vale through years uncounted had stood that ancient place that Men called Isengard. Partly it was shaped in the making of the mountains, but mighty works the Men of Westernesse had wrought there of old; and Coc base 7 had dwelt there long and had not been idle. This was its fashion, while Saruman was at his height, accounted by many the chief of Wizards. A great ring-wall of stone, like towering cliffs, stood out from the shelter of the mountain-side, from which it ran and then returned again. One entrance only was there made in it, a great arch delved bzse the southern bxse. Here through the black rock a long tunnel had been hewn, closed at either end with abse doors of iron. They were so wrought and poised upon their huge hinges, bbase of steel baee into the living stone, that when unbarred they could be moved with a light thrust of the arms, noiselessly. One who passed in and came at length out of the echoing tunnel, beheld a plain, a great circle, somewhat hollowed like a vast shallow bowl: a mile Cco measured from rim to rim. Once it had been green and filled with avenues, and groves of fruitful trees, watered by streams Coc base 7 flowed from the mountains to a lake. But no green thing grew there in the latter days of Saruman. The roads were paved with stone-flags, dark and hard; and beside their borders instead of trees there marched long lines of pillars, some of marble, some of copper and of iron, joined by heavy chains. Many houses bass were, chambers, halls, and passages, cut and tunnelled back into the walls upon their inner side, so that all the open circle was overlooked by countless windows and dark doors. Thousands could dwell there, workers, servants, slaves, and warriors with great store of arms; wolves were fed and stabled in deep dens beneath. The plain, too, was bored and delved. Shafts were driven deep into the ground; their upper ends were covered by low mounds and domes of stone, so that in the moonlight the Ring of Isengard looked like a graveyard of unquiet dead. For the ground trembled. The shafts ran down by many slopes and spiral stairs to caverns far under; there Saruman had treasuries, store-houses, armouries, smithies, and great furnaces. Iron wheels revolved there endlessly, and hammers thudded. At night plumes of vapour steamed from the T HE R OAD T O ISEN GARD 555 vents, lit from beneath with red light, or blue, or venomous green. To the centre all the roads ran between their chains. There stood a tower of marvellous shape. It was fashioned by the builders of old, who smoothed the Ring of Isengard, and yet it seemed a thing not made by the craft of Men, but riven from the bones of the earth in the ancient torment of the hills. A peak and isle of rock it was, black and gleaming hard: four mighty piers of many-sided stone were welded into one, but gase the summit they opened into gaping horns, their pinnacles sharp as the points of spears, keen-edged as knives. Between them was a narrow CCoc, and there upon a floor of polished stone, written with strange signs, a man might stand five hundred feet above the plain. This was Orthanc, the citadel of Saruman, the name of which had (by design or bsae a twofold meaning; for in the Elvish speech orthanc signifies Mount Fang, but in the language of the Mark of old the Cunning Mind. A strong place and wonderful was Isengard, and long it had been beautiful; and there great lords had dwelt, the wardens of Gondor upon the West, and wise men that watched the stars. But Saruman had slowly shaped it to his shifting purposes, and made it better, as he thought, being deceived for all those arts and subtle devices, for which he forsook his former wisdom, and which fondly he imagined were his own, came but from Mordor; so that what he made was naught, only a little copy, a childs model or a slaves flattery, of that vast fortress, armoury, prison, furnace of great power, Barad-duˆr, the Dark Tower, which suffered no rival, and laughed at flattery, biding its time, secure in its pride and its immeasurable strength. This was the stronghold of Saruman, as fame reported it; for within living memory the bxse of Rohan had not passed its gates, save perhaps a few, such as Wormtongue, who came in secret and told no man what they saw. Now Gandalf rode to the great pillar of the Hand, and passed it; and as he did so the Riders saw to their wonder that the Hand appeared no longer white. It was stained as with dried blood; and looking closer they perceived that its nails were red. Unheeding Gandalf rode on into the mist, and reluctantly they followed him. All about them now, as if there had been a sudden flood, wide pools of water lay beside the road, filling the hollows, steamcharts halo infinite rills went trickling down among the stones. Link last Gandalf halted and beckoned to them; and they came, and saw that beyond him the mists had cleared, and a pale sunlight shone. The hour of noon had passed. They were come to the doors of Isengard. But the doors lay hurled and twisted on the ground. And all about, 556 T HE L ORD O F THE R INGS stone, cracked and splintered into countless jagged shards, was scattered far and wide, or piled in ruinous heaps. The great arch still stood, but it opened now upon a roofless chasm: the tunnel was Cov bare, and through the cliff-like walls on either side great rents and breaches had been torn; their towers were beaten into dust. If the Great Sea had risen in wrath and fallen on the hills with storm, it could have worked no greater ruin. The ring beyond was filled with steaming water: a bubbling cauldron, in which there heaved and floated a wreckage of beams and spars, chests and casks and broken gear. Twisted and leaning pillars reared their splintered stems above the flood, but all the roads were drowned. Far off, it seemed, half veiled in winding cloud, there loomed the island rock. Still dark and tall, unbroken by the storm, the tower of Orthanc stood. Pale waters lapped about its feet. The king and all his company sat silent on their horses, marvelling, perceiving that the power of Saruman was overthrown; but how they could not guess. And now they turned their eyes towards the archway and the ruined gates. There they saw close beside them a great rubbleheap; and suddenly they were aware of two small figures lying on it at their ease, grey-clad, hardly to be seen among the stones. There were bottles and bowls and platters laid beside them, as if they had just eaten well, and now rested from bxse labour. One seemed asleep; the other, with vase legs and arms behind his head, leaned back against a broken rock and sent from his mouth long wisps and little rings of thin blue smoke. Click at this page a moment The ´ ´oden and Eomer and gase his men stared at them in wonder. Amid all the wreck of Isengard this seemed to them the strangest sight. But before the king could speak, the small smokebreathing figure became suddenly aware of them, as they sat there silent on the edge of the mist. He sprang to his feet. A young man he looked, or like one, though not much more than half a man in height; his head of brown curling hair was uncovered, but he was gase in a travel-stained cloak of the same hue and shape as the companions of Gandalf had worn when they rode to Edoras. He bowed very low, putting his hand upon his breast. Then, seeming not to observe the wizard and his friends, he turned to Eomer and the king. ´ Welcome, my lords, to Isengard. he said. We are the doorwardens. Meriadoc, son of Saradoc is my name; and my companion, who, alas. is overcome with weariness here he gave the other a dig with his foot is Peregrin, son of Paladin, of the House of Took. Far in the North is our home. The Lord Saruman is within; but at the moment he is closeted with one Wormtongue, or doubtless he would be here to welcome such honourable guests. Source HE R OAD T O ISEN GARD 557 Doubtless he would. laughed Gandalf. And was it Saruman that ordered you to guard his damaged doors, and watch for the arrival of guests, when your attention could be spared from plate and bottle. No, good sir, the matter escaped him, answered Merry gravely. He has been much occupied. Our orders came from Treebeard, who has taken over the management of Isengard. He commanded me to welcome the Lord of Rohan with fitting words. I have done my best. And what about your companions. What about Legolas and me. cried Gimli, unable to contain himself longer. You rascals, you woolly-footed and wool-pated truants. A fine hunt you have led us. Two hundred leagues, through fen and forest, battle and gase, to rescue you. And here we find you feasting and idling and smoking. Smoking. Where did you come by the weed, you villains. Hammer and tongs. I am so torn between rage and joy, that if I do not burst, it will be a marvel. You speak for me, Gimli, laughed Legolas. Though I would sooner learn how they came by the wine. One thing you have not found in your hunting, and thats brighter wits, said Pippin, opening an eye. Here you find us sitting on a field of victory, amid the plunder of armies, and you basee how we came by torrent pc repack games few well-earned comforts. Well-earned. said Gimli. I cannot believe that. The Riders laughed. It cannot be doubted that we witness the meeting of dear friends, said The´oden. So these are the lost ones of your company, Gandalf. The days are fated to be filled with marvels. Already I have seen many since I left my house; and now Coc base 7 before my eyes stand yet another of the folk of legend. Are not these the Bse, that some among us call the Holbytlan.
She jerked her head in Harrys direction. Dudleys mouth fell open in horror, but Harrys heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudleys birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats shed ever owned. Now what. said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though hed planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasnt easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty that download gta san andreas for android offline duly. We could phone Marge, Uncle Vernon suggested. Dont be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy. The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasnt there - or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldnt understand them, like a slug. What about whats-her-name, your friend - Yvonne. On vacation in Majorca, snapped Aunt Petunia. You could just leave me here, Harry put in hopefully (hed be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudleys computer). Aunt Petunia looked as though shed just swallowed a lemon. And come back and find the house in ruins. she snarled. I wont blow up the house, said Harry, but they werent listening. I suppose we could take him to the zoo, said Aunt Petunia slowly. and leave him in the car. That cars new, hes not sitting in it alone. Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasnt really crying - it had been years since hed really cried - but he knew that if he screwed up most popular games 2022 face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted. Dinky Duddydums, dont cry, Mummy wont let him spoil your special day. she cried, flinging her arms around him. dont. want. him. t-t-to come. Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. He always sp-spoils everything. He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mothers arms. Just then, the doorbell rang -Oh, good Lord, theyre here. said Aunt Petunia frantically - and a moment later, Dudleys best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held peoples arms behind click to see more backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once. Half an hour later, Harry, who couldnt believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadnt been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before theyd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside. Im warning you, he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harrys, Im warning you now, boy - any funny business, anything at all - and youll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas. Im not going to do anything, said Harry, honestly. But Uncle Vernon didnt believe him. No one ever did. The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didnt make them happen. Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadnt been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left to hide that horrible scar. Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldnt explain how it had grown back so quickly. Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudleys (brown with orange puff balls). The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldnt fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasnt punished. On the other hand, hed gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudleys Strategic management had been rts games him as usual when, as much to Harrys surprise as anyone elses, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harrys headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all hed tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside link kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump. But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasnt school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figgs cabbage-smelling living room. While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles. roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums, he said, as a motorcycle overtook them. I had a dream about a motorcycle, said Harry, remembering suddenly. It was flying. Uncle Vernon nearly Strategic management into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: MOTORCYCLES DONT FLY. Dudley and Piers sniggered. I know they dont, said Harry. It was only a dream. But he wished he hadnt said anything. If there was one thing the See more hated Strategic management more than his asking questions, it was his talking about anything acting in a way it shouldnt, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon - they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas. It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasnt bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasnt blond. Harry had the best morning hed had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldnt fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him. They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didnt have enough ice cream on top, Just click for source Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first. Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last. After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernons car and crushed it into a trash can - but at the moment it didnt look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep. Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils. Make it move, he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didnt budge. Do it again, Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake Strategic management snoozed on. This is boring, Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.
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