Once again, great dark clouds had gathered to the west, painting the sky in deep shades of indigo which graduated into a lighter hue of azure. There was a deep rumble of thunder in the distance. Another storm was coming, and coming quickly. Breezes stirred the naked tops of trees and set the lithesome branches to swaying gently. Air currents as capricious as a flighty young maiden swirled about the travelers, first blowing breaths of stifling heat and in the next instant turning cool and refreshing, a strange combination of sensation brought about by the shifting of the ethers just before a summer storm.

After a momentary surcease, a fickle western wind danced behind the travelers, sending their burnooses flapping about their legs. "Ten hard leagues to go through this forsaken valley, and not a single inn for the poor traveler to take shelter from the rain!" Ganbar muttered dourly, pushing the hood of his burnoose back from his face. He spoke in Westron; the twins surmised that this was so they could hear his usual complaining about the weather.

"Ganbar, I would not say the valley was exactly forsaken," Inbir added sarcastically as he gazed up at the rocky hills which pressed in on either side.

"Forsaken by mortals anyway," Ganbar amended. He glanced around apprehensively as though he expected at any moment to see some hideous monster emerge from a narrow ravine or a cave on one of the hillsides.

"Silence, men!" Esarhaddon's deep voice rumbled threateningly. "You will frighten the women with such idle talk!"

"Yes, my lord." Inbir bowed his head deferentially. "It was thoughtless of me to speak so. Your pardon."

"I will say no more upon it, my lord," Ganbar assured him. "We meant no harm. Inbir and I were only passing time with foolish tales." Abashed, he glanced down at the reins between his fingers, frowning when he noticed a festering splinter deeply embedded in his middle finger.

"Har! Har! Har!" Talrûn sputtered out a deranged laugh. "The little sluts will be frightened enough when they 'as the ice-cold prick of one of the filthy Shriekers rammed in their quims, they will!"

"Silence, you baseborn dog!" Ubri screamed, leaning down from the saddle and lashing the cat-o-nine across the orc's face. The orc bellowed a cry of rage and pain and tried futilely to bring his hands up to grab at his burning face. Frightened by the orc's fierce yell, the Captain's mare snorted and kicked out to the side.

"Damn! Let me take him!" cried Ganbar as he threw a leg over the pommel of the saddle and dropped to the ground. "Stay back!" he shouted to the twins as he headed for the orc. Bringing their horses to a sudden halt, the sisters watched in stunned silence, their ears burning with the orc's vile profanity.

"He is yours!" Ubri shouted as he slipped the orc's lead rope from the pommel and tossed it to the ground.

Talûn turned hate-filled eyes to Ganbar and threw back his head and laughed. With a roar, the Southron barreled into him, knocking the orc sprawling on his back. Landing on top him, Ganbar pinned the orc to the ground. Talûn's yellow eyes were pools of hatred as he glared up at Ganbar. The brute bared his teeth and gasped out, "Maybe they'll like it better when all nine of the Undead Kings take turns shovin' their molderin', maggot-infested prongs up their virgin arses..." Enraged, Ganbar wrapped his hands around the orc's neck and began to squeeze. "Then they'd..." Talûn gasped, "...make 'em lick... the filth... off their--ahhhhh--"

"Shut up, you degenerate piece of pig dung!" Ganbar grated between clenched teeth as he smashed his fist into the orc's mouth. The blow was so savage that two of the orc's teeth shattered under the force, cutting the Southron's knuckles in the process. Talûn, maddened by pain, spat a stream of blood and broken teeth into Ganbar's face. "Damn you!" Ganbar cursed as he wiped off the mess with his sleeve and plowed his fist into the orc's flat nose. The orc's head reeled back on his neck, spattering more blood over Ganbar's face and burnoose.

When the fight had begun, Ubri dismounted to watch the scuffle from a distance. When it was apparent that Talûn had been subdued, the Captain stalked up to the wounded beast. "You little misbegotten spawn of apes, you deserve to die!" he snarled and kicked the orc in the groin. Talûn screamed in agony, his body convulsing in pain.

"Let me slit his throat!" Ganbar's voice was shaking as he drew a small dagger from his sash and pressed it against the orc's neck. Seldom was Ganbar ever this angry, but the surly little toad had insulted the twins, and Ganbar considered himself their protector. Though he had never killed a man in his life, now in this rage which almost overpowered him, he could kill the orc without thinking twice of it.

"No! He is a dead man already! Let those of the City have him!" Esarhaddon commanded. When the fight had first broken out, the Shakh had been riding ahead of the party, as was his custom. After he had heard the shouts and curses, he turned his mare around and halted her near Ubri. "Gag this offal and drag him to his feet!" Curse this renegade orc! the slaver raged to himself. Now he would have to reassure the slave girls that they were in no danger of being raped by the Undead! As flighty as that pair was, it might take some doing!

"Aye, my lord." Ubri inclined his head and touched his chest with his fingers. Turning back to the orc, Ubri grasped the brute's filthy black hair and jerked his head back. Inbir, who had arrived late at the scene, shoved a wad of dirty linen into the orc's mouth and secured the gag with another strip of material tied around his mouth.

"Captain," Inbir looked to his superior, "the creature's mouth is full of blood and gore. Might he not choke to death?"

"No big loss," Ubri answered spitefully as he and Ganbar pulled the wretch to his feet.

"You filthy scum, let that be a lesson to you!" Ganbar growled, roughly pushing the orc ahead of them. "You will get more of the same treatment if you do not learn proper manners!"

"At least now his mouth can no longer spew its foul garbage, Ganbar!" Ubri laughed, his thin lips curling into a smile of cruel satisfaction.

Within a short while after the orc's subjugation, the party was once again mounted and on its way east. Their faces ashen with fear, the twins exchanged frightened glances, both of them visibly shaken by the scene of violence which they had just seen. "Oh, Elfhild, do you believe those terrible things that the monster said?" Elffled asked fretfully, her hand trembling on the reins.

"I do not know. I just do not know!" Elfhild shook her head back and forth. And she did not. Ever since the Southrons had crossed the Anduin, they had seemed tenser, more edgy, their tempers quick. This valley was indeed a mysterious place, with its enchanted river and wandering spirits. Now the orc had gleefully related tales of undead kings who forced their victims to fornicate with them in vile, obscene perversions of the act of love. The thought made her skin crawl as though slugs were creeping all over her body, leaving trails of slime on her flesh. If the orc was telling the truth, she prayed to Béma that He would protect her sister and her!

Ganbar turned in the saddle to look over his shoulder at the twins. "Little ones, I overheard what you said. Do not believe anything that scoundrel told you! He spoke lies, filthy, dirty lies, I tell you! He was only taking out his spite on the two of you, because if you had not screamed, he might never have been caught."

Agreeing, Inbir nodded his head. "Orcs have foul mouths. They are all blackguards and savages, a mongrel race which has advanced no more than animals and surely does not deserve to live!" he chimed in. "Pay no attention to what he told you! He was lying! The lords who rule this valley are all very much alive, and none of them are undead! He was only trying to scare you!"

"Thank you, Masters," Elffled smiled weakly, bowing her head. "I am sure you both must be correct, and if you will permit me to say this, I am very grateful to you. That was truly gallant of both of you to defend our honor. I could not believe that anyone would ever say such foul things to us!" She choked back a sob. "He reminded me of that horrible Sharapul! I am so glad that you protect us from such fiends!" While she still wondered what the crazed orc had been rambling about, she was just glad to have strong protectors and did not wish to provoke them. She had seen the violence of which the Southrons were capable, and she wanted to stay on their good side.

A deep blush glowed under Ganbar's tawny skin. Smiling shyly at the twins, he tugged on his golden earring and prayed that he would not stutter as he spoke. "We were only putting the beast in his place. Any man of the South would have done the same." Old enough to be their father and a kind man at heart, Ganbar felt sorry for the two girls. "Such a pity that the sweet flush of innocence must be as the rose, lasting but a season," he thought ruefully. Both girls rewarded him with gentle smiles.

Flattered by Elffled's complimentary words, Inbir's eyes lit up in a pleased smile which he quickly hid with a disdainful twist of his lips. "Now you realize at last how foolish you were ever to run from our protection. You left yourself open to dangers which you could never comprehend. I think now you have learned that the Southern man is a staunch and fearless warrior, ready to protect what is his by damask steel and blood."

"Then, Master," Elffled's voice was low and deferential, "if this slave will not be considered impudent for saying this, she hopes that a brave warrior such as yourself will always protect her."

"Perhaps one will," Inbir returned, his voice deep and husky.

As their horses climbed the steadily rising road, the travelers fell silent, the brooding intensity of the coming storm causing the very air to crackle with tension. They had covered little over a mile when the road began to curve towards the southeast, skirting around a great jutting spur of the mountains. Nestled between the precipice and the Morgulduin, the road bent to follow the river's path. Though the waters were swollen from the recent rain, the high bank upon which the road lay was tall enough to prevent any risk of flooding. The twins were glad that the river was far below them, for the canopy of the heavens had now shifted to an ominous looking cobalt gray. Lightning flickered off in the distance and the thunder grew closer.

The closer they traveled towards Minas Morgul, the more agitated the orc became, his short-lived bravado fading into fear. He began to struggle against the rope about his neck, pulling backwards, trying to free himself from the noose. Each time that Talûn dug his feet into the earth, Ubri mercilessly yanked on the rope, tightening the noose and sending him pitching forward.

After Talûn had gone down yet another time, the Captain's horse, already skittish with the smell of orc blood in her nostrils, moved sideways, dragging the orc behind her. Enraged at the animal's unruly behavior, Ubri sawed at her reins until he brought her back under control. He looked down at the orc and laughed mockingly. "Are you mad, fool? Perhaps you would prefer being dragged all the way back to your accursed city?" Coughing and sputtering, the orc lurched to his knees, shaking his head and hacking before staggering back to his feet.

"Mmmphhhh mmmphhh!" Though Talûn's mouth was filled with bloody cloth, the crumpled material could not completely silence him, and he moaned piteously, the sounds muffled by the gag. Still protesting, he continuously fought the rope. Once when he was knocked to his stomach, Talûn beat his face wildly against the hard road. In his frantic struggles, he loosened the gag and finally tore it off altogether. Spitting out the bloody wad, he stared in terror towards the east.

"Mercy! Mercy! S-slay... me... now!" he shouted in a frenzy of fear, blood spewing from his mouth. "The Dark Ones... curse Talûn... turn him... t-to steaming ice!" His eyes rolling wildly in his head, the orc shrieked over and over. "No! Nooo! Not... not... Nazgûl! Nooo! Nooo! K-kill... me! KILL ME!"

"Be still, you spawn of vermin!" Enraged at yet another delay, Captain Ubri cursed violently and kicked his horse into a trot, dragging the sputtering orc bouncing along behind him. At this pace, the noose quickly tightened and dug into Talûn's neck, cutting off his air. Strangling to death, his starved lungs screamed for relief, and he gagged and heaved, his mouth spewing out bloody spittle. Close to death, his eyes rolled back in his head as his body convulsed in rigid spasms.

The sisters gasped in horror as they watched another act of cruelty played out before their eyes. Elffled could stand little of the mayhem and covered her eyes with her hands. Half sick at her stomach, her belly churned with nausea at the sickening black blood spattered in a trail ahead of them. She longed for escape, but she knew that if she broke and ran, the Southrons would probably treat her with the same brutality that they showed the orc. And, judging from Talûn's behavior, the Southrons were actually the lesser of two evils when compared with the Nazgûl! Elfhild bit back the urge to scream and beg for the men to show mercy to the orc. After all, his crime against them was not all that great, just a few hateful remarks from a loose tongue. Of course, she thought, her father and brother would have killed the orc for the very first obscene remark that he had hurled at them, but at least they would have made the orc's demise a quick one and not prolonged with torture. At last she looked away, tears spilling over her cheeks.

"Captain, Captain, you are killing him!" Ganbar shouted at last. "If he dies while in our keeping, I fear what disasters will befall us! The lords of Dor-en-Ulaer are not noted for their kindness!"

Bristling at what he considered a challenge to his authority, Ubri whipped his head around and glared at Ganbar. "I am not about to kill him... just teach him respect!" Grudgingly, he halted his mount and backed the animal up, slackening the tension on the line. "Ganbar, you and Inbir gag the bastard, and this time, make sure he stays gagged!"

"Captain Ubri!" Esarhaddon's words cut through the air like the crack of a whip. The Shakh had reined his skittish mare around and now faced the men. "I have listened to this fool's babblings far too long! Gag him and put a hood on his head! You should have done that in the first place! See that you do it now!" Stroking the spirited mare on the neck to calm her, he added, "Ganbar, keep this devil moving! If he balks again, whip him until the flesh hangs in bloody shreds from his legs!"

"What the hell is wrong with Ubri today?" Esarhaddon wondered. "He is making a spectacle of himself, behaving as though he has a personal grudge against this miserable orc." Ubri's conduct had been uncharacteristic of his past actions. While stern, the man had never let his temper run out of control to the point of violence. Esarhaddon looked thoughtful as he studied Ubri's dour face. Perhaps the putrefying odors of this strange valley had affected him. "Nonsense!" the slaver told himself. No, the many problems and disappointments of this trip had been too much for Ubri. He had always been conscientious in performing his duties, but possibly the many frustrations and failures had pushed him beyond his limits. Obviously, something was troubling his mind.

"I think that a long, peaceful rest might help Ubri. After he has recuperated, I will transfer him to a less demanding position at one of our slave houses in Harad. Yes... yes... That should do it." Esarhaddon was pleased with himself at solving the dilemma so easily. "He should work out very well there." Of course, the work in Harad would be a step down for Ubri, and his pay would be less, but Esarhaddon could not risk having a man with such an unstable temper involved in an operation so crucial to the House of Huzziya as the Northern slave gathering expeditions.

"He will dance a lively tune to my lash, Shakh!" Ganbar exclaimed enthusiastically before the Captain had a chance to reply.

"Yes, my lord, it will be done," Ubri returned deferentially, but Esarhaddon had already whirled his mare around and soon had her moving up the road in a fast canter. Stunned by this unexpected rebuke, Ubri recoiled inwardly, his gut knotting up in a painful spasm. Twice in one day, he had lost face, and it was all the fault of the orc. "Accursed creatures," he cursed to himself. "Filthy, disgusting, repulsive brutes, why should we have to deal with them? All of them should be exterminated! Scum of the earth! I hate them all!" Ubri's reaction to the orc was not so different from the opinion held by many on Middle-earth. Orcs were different, they were brutal, and surely they were not of the race of Man. Why should they be allowed to live?

Now the Shakh was disappointed in Ubri, and he was most discomfited by this situation. As soon as circumstances permitted, he would go to Esarhaddon and beg his forgiveness. He had been wrong before not to gag and hood the orc, and he was prepared to assume full responsibility for bungling this whole miserable affair. Ubri would debase himself, kneel and grovel - anything to be restored to the Shakh's good graces. His whole future depended upon having the most felicitous relations with the Shakh. If he lost his lucrative position with the House of Huzziya, he had lost everything. Obtaining work would be almost impossible for him back in Nurn, for once the word had gotten out that he had been dismissed, he would be shunned by every other business house of any import.

Why had fortune turned such a sour face upon him that day? "If that idiot orc had only kept his peace," Ubri reasoned, "the two luscious twins would never have had any more than an inkling of the dark secrets which the valley holds!" It was the policy of the House of Huzziya that as little as possible should be made of the Morgul Vale and its mysteries, lest captives become frightened and unmanageable. This policy of enforced ignorance and denial was especially crucial now, for the slaves had revolted only a week before, and Esarhaddon did not want another mutiny. Having to chase slaves through the tangled, gloomy forests and shadowy ravines of Dor-en-Ulaer was the last thing that any of the men wished to do, especially since many travelers who strayed away from the main road never returned.

Ubri pressed his hand against his throbbing temples as he waited for Ganbar and Inbir to finish with the orc. The fight driven out of him, Talûn seemed to have given up. Fresh rags had been stuffed in his mouth, secured by a strip of cloth run over his mouth and tied at the back of his head. The tight-fitting black leather hood had been placed over his head and secured with straps in the back. There was a small slit under the nostrils to allow air to circulate freely. Hideous enough before, the orc now presented a nightmarish apparition, his hooded face the image of anonymous malice and the stark finality of the condemned.

"Move your mangy arse!" Ubri ordered as he spurred his horse into a walk, jerking on the orc's rope and sending him stumbling forward. Ganbar slapped the tresses over the orc's bloodied calves, but the only sensation which the orc could feel in his raw, tortured flesh was numbness. Robbed of his sight, half euphoric with his own pain and surrounded by enemies, Talûn was alone and forsaken. His nostrils were filled with the stench of his own reeking blood which oozed out of the bottom of the mask, combined with the smell of new leather. He let his mind drift on waves of hatred.

As though they could see into his brain, the twins sensed that the orc's mind was concentrated upon them. A brooding, malignant essence seemed to surround them, radiating outward from the orc like an invisible black aura of doom. Though he could not see them, Elfhild had the impression that he was watching them. Trying to shake off the sensation, she looked to her sister for comfort, only to be met with an almost identical pair of frightened blue eyes.

Nerves jangled by this tension, both sisters screamed as a brilliant flash of lightning lit up the sky. A rolling boom of thunder reverberated over the mountains and shook the ground beneath them. The storm had arrived.