A moment later, Sam sat obediently in the back while Frodo whispered quietly with Gandalf.
"Sam's always been interested in tales of the Elves," Frodo said. "He, Pippin, and Merry used to sneak peeks at Bilbo's books. Please forgive him, Gandalf. I'm sure he didn't mean any harm."
Gandalf nodded slightly, signaling his trust. Indeed, he had watched Sam grow up himself. What ill intent could that simple Hobbit possibly have?
The two of them turned back to glance at him.
Taking advantage of the moment, Sam quickly asked, "Are you leaving?"
His eyes were a little wet.
"Actually, we've had a feeling about this for a while, not just me, but Pippin, Merry, and Fredegar too. We all thought that one day you'd suddenly be gone without even saying goodbye..."
Listening to Sam's words, Frodo smiled helplessly. "Good Sam..."
"Now you don't have to be apart anymore."
Unlike Frodo, who somehow managed to look relaxed in a way that made no sense, Gandalf remained tense. He stared at Sam and said, "Samwise Gamgee, since you already know about this matter, I cannot simply let you go. You understand, this is a matter of great importance."
And so, at dawn that very day, three figures, one tall and two small, set out from Hobbiton, heading east.
"You must both be careful," Gandalf warned. "The Enemy has many eyes and ears, birds that fly above, beasts that roam the land... Keep it hidden well, Frodo. Don't wear it, or dark things will be drawn to you. That Ring is always yearning to return to its master. It wants to be found."
Patting Frodo on the shoulder, he mounted his horse, preparing to leave ahead.
"Wait, Gandalf! Where are you going?" Frodo called after him.
"I must inform our other allies. This matter is grave. We need counsel from all sides and must proceed carefully."
"When I've finished, I'll come find you. Until I return, you mustn't wander off. And if necessary, seek help from the Rangers. Even if you can't recognize them, it doesn't matter. If all else fails, just shout Garrett's name. The Rangers will come to you themselves. Well, as for their attitude, that's another story. But you'll be safe."
After finishing his long list of warnings, Gandalf suddenly spurred his horse and rode away.
Frodo watched the wizard's figure blur into the distance and sighed repeatedly. "That horse is faster than any pony in the Shire."
"I agree," said Sam, nodding.
After a moment, he added, "Though I do wonder if he'll throw his back out."
"Wouldn't be surprised if he already has, a few times."
The two Hobbits walked on, gossiping about the old wizard who had just left.
---
Meanwhile, Gandalf rode south, following the stone-paved road all the way to Isengard. Saruman happened to be free, and the two wizards strolled together through an orchard.
He told him everything he knew.
Saruman frowned, confirming again, "Is this true?"
"Absolutely."
Gandalf replied, "Garrett and I discovered it together. There's no mistake."
"That is... very serious indeed."
Saruman instinctively furrowed his brow.
"And the Ring, where is it now? Don't tell me it's fallen into Garrett's hands?"
"Of course not. It's being kept safe by a Hobbit."
"Good."
Saruman let out a breath of relief.
"If Garrett and the One Ring ever came together, I shudder to think what might happen."
Gandalf shook his head and spoke up for Garrett. "We should still give him some trust. Both of us have seen the Ring directly, and he showed no sign of being tempted."
"Who's to say what kind of restless desire might be boiling beneath that calm surface?"
Saruman sneered.
Gandalf shot him a glance, suddenly thinking that Saruman might, in fact, be describing himself.
"And you, Gandalf," Saruman suddenly said.
"Me?"
"That Ring stayed under your very nose for decades, and yet you noticed nothing. I can't help but wonder if that pipe-weed has finally dulled your brain."
Gandalf merely pursed his lips at that.
"But at least it's not too late," he said. "We still have the strength to oppose Sauron. Garrett's army is..."
"Garrett again?" Saruman interrupted mockingly. "Is that all you can do, Gandalf? Rely on someone else's power?"
Gandalf had just opened his mouth to argue, but Saruman cut him off with a raised hand.
"My old friend, there's something I must tell you. Although the servants of the Enemy have been kept beyond the northern frontier thanks to the protection of the Lord of the North, and although Sauron himself seems subdued, his presence faint... He has not been idle all these years. From what I have discovered, he has already recovered most of his former strength. He is no longer the shadow he was decades ago. Even without the One Ring, even without a body, his spirit has regained nearly all of its former might."
As they talked, the two wizards ascended the tower, step by step, until they reached the highest chamber.
"His sight can pierce through half of Middle-earth," Saruman continued. "That vast, fiery Eye... The armies he gathers could sweep across the Free Cities, Gondor, even Rohan united. They would all be crushed."
"That is not certain," Gandalf disagreed.
"No, Gandalf, you know what I mean. You've also sensed the evils stirring in the Northern Waste, haven't you? Don't think that just because I dwell in this tower I'm cut off from the world. I know more than you imagine, and I've been making preparations."
"Preparations?" Gandalf caught the word at once.
"Yes, preparations."
Saruman rose and opened the great doors, motioning for Gandalf to follow him onto the balcony.
"I am not like you, Gandalf," he said. "You depend on others' strength. I will rely on my own, my wisdom, my power, to strike Sauron down, and show him who the true master is."
"Saruman..."
ARHH!
A thunderous bellow rose from below. Crowds of soldiers poured out from the fortress, gathering in ranks on the open ground at the tower's base.
"Men of the Black Lands," Gandalf muttered, frowning as he recognized them.
"You've allied yourself with the Blacklanders? They're treacherous folk, hardly trustworthy, and not known for opposing Sauron."
"They've bent the knee to him before, when he invaded."
"That needn't trouble you, Gandalf," Saruman replied coolly. "They now serve me faithfully, bound by blood oath."
"Very well," Gandalf said after a pause. "I'll take your word for it. But even so, the Blacklanders are hardly a great power. Even if every last one of them took up arms, they couldn't match half the riders of Rohan."
"Perhaps you're right," Saruman said, giving Gandalf a sidelong glance. "But they are not my only force. It's time you saw the results of my work, decades of research and creation. Come forth, my soldiers!"
A voice like thunder rolled across the land, seeping deep into the earth itself.
Gandalf looked down, and his eyes widened in disbelief.
From the forests and from tunnels beneath the ground, ranks upon ranks of tall, broad-shouldered Orcs emerged, marching in perfect order and gathering below the tower.
There were at least tens of thousands.
On every brow was marked a white hand.
"Saruman! Saruman!"
They shouted his name in unison, raising their arms in reverence toward the white figure standing atop the tower, like worshippers before a god.
"Saruman!"
Gandalf's own voice rang out, but his cry was filled with anger and anguish.
"How could you commit such a deed, one that defies the very nature of living things?"