The Last Ring-bearer - Kirill Yeskov [8]
"Dearest Saruman… please forgive an old man, but… erm… I wasn't listening all that closely here… Just don't fight, all right? I mean, if even we start to bicker, what's gonna happen to the world, eh? See… And as for those folks from the Enchanted Forests, I mean, aren't you… you know… a bit hard on them? I remember seeing them when I was young, from afar, for sure, but they seemed all right by my reckoning; they have their own weirdness, but who doesn't? Also they're always at one with the birds and the beasties, not like your Mordorians… So I reckon, it might be fine, eh?"
So that's it, concluded Saruman and slowly ran his palm across his face, as if trying to remove a spider's web of enormous weariness. The only one who may have supported him. He had no strength left to fight; it's over, he's under the ice.
"You are not just in the minority; you are alone, Saruman. Of course, all your suggestions are of enormous value to us." Gandalf's voice was fairly dripping with false respect now. "Let us discuss right away the question of the Mirror – it is, indeed, a complicated question…"
"This is your problem now, Gandalf," Saruman spoke quietly but firmly, undoing the mithril clasp at his throat. "You have long sought the White Cloak – here, take it. Do whatever you think necessary, but I quit your Council."
"Then your staff will lose power, you hear!" Gandalf yelled at his back; it was clear that he was stunned and no longer understood his perennial rival.
Saruman turned around and took one last look at the gloomy hall of the White Council. An edge of the white cloak spilled down off the armchair to the floor, like moon-silvered water in a fountain; the mithril clasp sent him a farewell flash and winked out. Radagast, who must have risen to follow him, was frozen in mid-stride with arms sticking out awkwardly; the wizard suddenly looked small and miserable, like a child in the middle of a parents' quarrel. It was then that he uttered a phrase that amazingly matched the one spoken on a similar occasion in another World:
"What you are about to do is worse than a crime. It is a mistake."
In a few weeks Mordor's intelligence reported from the edges of the Northern woods the sudden appearance of 'Elves' – slender golden-haired creatures with mellifluous voices and permafrost in their eyes.
Chapter 5
Middle Earth, the War of the Ring
Historical brief
Should our reader be minimally acquainted with analysis of major military campaigns and examine the map of Middle Earth, he would easily ascertain that all actions of both new coalitions (Mordor-Isengard and Gondor-Rohan) were dictated by merciless strategic logic, undergirded by Mordor's dread of being cut off from its food sources. Through Gandalf's efforts the center of Middle Earth turned into a highly unstable geopolitical "sandwich" with Mordor and Isengard the bread and Gondor and Rohan the bacon. Most ironic was the fact that the Mordor coalition, which wanted nothing but the preservation of the status quo, was in an ideal position for an offensive war (whereby it could immediately force its opponents to fight on two fronts), but in a highly unfavorable one for a defensive war (when the united opponents could conduct a blitzkrieg, crushing foes one by one).
Saruman, however, lost no time, either. He visited Theoden and Denethor (the kings of Rohan and Gondor) and used his personal charm and eloquence to convince them that Isengard and Barad-Dur wanted nothing but peace. In addition, he partially revealed to Denethor and Sauron the secret of the two palantíri that have been kept in both capitals since time immemorial, and taught them to