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the gate。 He went on； hugging the wall on his left。 One look upward had shown him that there was
no hope of climbing it。 The stone…work rose thirty feet； without a crack or ledge； to overhanging
courses like inverted steps。 The gate was the only way。
He crept on； and as he went he wondered how many orcs lived in the Tower with Shagrat； and
how many Gorbag had； and what they were quarrelling about； if that was what was happening。
Shagrat's pany had seemed to be about forty； and Gorbag's more than twice as large； but of
course Shagrat's patrol had only been a part of his garrison。 Almost certainly they were quarrelling
about Frodo； and the spoil。 For a second Sam halted； for suddenly things seemed clear to him；
almost as if he had seen them with his eyes。 The mithril coat！ Of course； Frodo was wearing it； and
they would find it。 And from what Sam had heard Gorbag would covet it。 But the orders of the
Dark Tower were at present Frodo's only protection； and if they were set aside； Frodo might be
killed out of hand at any moment。
'e on； you miserable sluggard！' Sam cried to himself。 ‘Now for it！' He drew Sting and ran
towards the open gate。 But just as he was about to pass under its great arch he felt a shock： as if he
had run into some web like Shelob's； only invisible。 He could see no obstacle； but something too
strong for his will to overe barred the way。 He looked about； and then within the shadow of the
gate he saw the Two Watchers。
They were like great figures seated upon thrones。 Each had three joined bodies； and three heads
facing outward； and inward； and across the gateway。 The heads had vulture…faces； and on their
great knees were laid clawlike hands。 They seemed to be carved out of huge blocks of stone；
immovable； and yet they were aware： some dreadful spirit of evil vigilance abode in them。 They
knew an enemy。 Visible or invisible none could pass unheeded。 They would forbid his entry； or his
escape。
Hardening his will Sam thrust forward once again； and halted with a jerk； staggering as if from a
blow upon his breast and head。 Then greatly daring； because he could think of nothing else to do；
answering a sudden thought that came to him； he drew slowly out the phial of Galadriel and held it
up。 Its white light quickened swiftly； and the shadows under the dark arch fled。 The monstrous
Watchers sat there cold and still； revealed in all their hideous shape。 For a moment Sam caught a
glitter in the black stones of their eyes； the very malice of which made him quail； but slowly he felt
their will waver and crumble into fear。
He sprang past them； but even as he did so； thrusting the phial back into his bosom； he was
aware； as plainly as if a bar of steel had snapped to behind him； that their vigilance was renewed。
And from those evil heads there came a high shrill cry that echoed in the towering walls before him。
Far up above； like an answering signal； a harsh bell clanged a single stroke。
'That's done it！' said Sam。 ‘Now I've rung the front…door bell！ Well； e on somebody！' he
cried。 ‘Tell Captain Shagrat that the great Elf…warrior has called； with his elf…sword too！'
There was no answer。 Sam strode forward。 Sting glittered blue in his hand。 The courtyard lay in
deep shadow； but he could see that the pavement was strewn with bodies。 Right at his feet were two
orc…archers with knives sticking in their backs。 Beyond lay many more shapes； some singly as they
had been hewn down or shot； others in pairs； still grappling one another； dead in the very throes of
stabbing； throttling； biting。 The stones were slippery with dark blood。
Two liveries Sam noticed； one marked by the Red Eye； the other by a Moon disfigured with a
ghastly face of death； but he did not stop to look more closely。 Across the court a great door at the
foot of the Tower stood half open； and a red light came through； a large orc lay dead upon the
threshold。 Sam sprang over the body and went in； and then he peered about at a loss。
A wide and echoing passage led back from the door towards the mountain…side。 It was dimly lit
with torches flaring in brackets on the walls； but its distant end was lost in gloom。 Many doors and
openings could be seen on this side and that； but it was empty save for two or three more bodies
sprawling on the floor。 From what he had heard of the captains' talk Sam knew that； dead or alive；
Frodo would most likely be found in a chamber high up in the turret far above； but he might search
for a day before he found the way。
'It'll be near the back； I guess；' Sam muttered。 ‘The whole Tower climbs backwards…like。 And
anyway I'd better follow these lights。'
He advanced down the passage； but slowly now； each step more reluctant。 Terror was beginning
to grip him again。 There was no sound save the rap of his feet； which seemed to grow to an echoing
noise； like the slapping of great hands upon the stones。 The dead bodies： the emptiness； the dank
black walls that in the torchlight seemed to drip with blood； the fear of sudden death lurking in
doorway or shadow； and behind all his mind the waiting watchful malice at the gate： it was almost
more than he could screw himself to face。 He would have weled a fight…with not too many
enemies at a time – rather than this hideous brooding uncertainty。 He forced himself to think of
Frodo； lying bound or in pain or dead somewhere in this dreadful place。 He went on。
He had passed beyond the torchlight； almost to a great arched door at the end of the passage； the
inner side of the under gate； as he rightly guessed； when there came from high above a dreadful
choking shriek。 He stopped short。 Then he heard feet ing。 Someone was running in great haste
down an echoing stairway overhead。
His will was too weak and slow to restrain his hand。 It dragged at the chain and clutched the
Ring。 But Sam did not put it on； for even as he clasped it to his breast； an orc came clattering down。
Leaping out of a dark opening at the right； it ran towards him。 It was no more than six paces from
him when； lifting its head； it saw him； and Sam could hear its gasping breath and see the glare in its
bloodshot eyes。 It stopped short aghast。 For what it saw was not a small frightened hobbit trying to
hold a steady sword： it saw a great silent shape； cloaked in a grey shadow； looming against the
wavering light behind； in one hand it held a sword； the very light of which was a bitter pain； the
other was clutched at its breast； but held concealed some nameless menace of power and doom。
For a moment the orc crouched； and then with a hideous yelp of fear it turned and fled back as it
had e。 Never was any dog more heartened when its enemy turned tail than Sam at this
unexpected flight。 With a shout he gave chase。
‘Yes！ The Elf…warrior is loose！' he cried。 'I'm ing。 Just you show me the way up； or I'll skin
you！'
But the orc was in its own haunts； nimble and well…fed。 Sam was a stranger； hungry and weary。
The stairs were high and steep and winding。 Sam's breath began to e in gasps。 The orc had soon
passed out of sight； and now only faintly could be heard the slapping of its feet as it went on and up。
Every now and again it gave a yell； and the echo ran along the walls。 But slowly all sound of it died
away。
Sam plodded on。 He felt that he was on the right road； and his spirits had risen a good deal。 He
thrust the Ring away and tightened his belt。 ‘Well； well！' he said。 ‘If only they all take such a
dislike to me and my Sting； this may turn out better than I hoped。 And anyway it looks as if Shagrat；
Gorbag； and pany have done nearly all my job for me。 Except for that little frightened rat； I do
believe there's nobody left alive in the place！'
And with that he stopped； brought up hard； as if he had hit his head against the stone wall。 The
full meaning of what he had said struck him like a blow。 Nobody left alive！ Whose had been that
horrible dying shriek？ ‘Frodo； Frodo！ Master！' he cried half sobbing。 'If they've killed you； what
shall I do？ Well； I'm ing at last； right to the top； to see what I must。'
Up； up he went。 It was dark save for an occasional torch flaring at a turn； or beside some
opening that led into the higher levels of the Tower。 Sam tried to count the steps； but after two
hundred he lost his reckoning。 He was moving quietly now： for he thought that he could hear the
sound of voices talking； still some way above。 More than one rat remained alive； it seemed。
All at once； when he felt that he could pump out no more breath； nor force his knees to bend
again； the stair ended。 He stood still。 The voices were now loud and near。 Sam peered about。 He
had climbed right to the flat roof of the third and highest tier of the Tower： an open space； about
twenty yards across； with a low parapet。 There the stair was covered by a small domed chamber in
the midst of the roof； with low doors facing east and west。 Eastward Sam could see the plain of
Mordor vast and dark below； and the burning mountain far away。 A fresh turmoil was surging in its
deep wells； and the rivers of fire blazed so fiercely that even at this distance of many miles the light
of them lit the tower…top with a red glare。 Westward the view was blocked by the base of the great
turret that stood at the back of this upper court and reared its horn high above the crest of the
encircling hills。 Light gleamed in a window…slit。 Its door was not ten yards from where Sam stood。
It was open but dark； and from just within its shadow the voices came。
At first Sam did not listen； he took a pace out of the eastward door and looked about。 At once he
saw that up here the fighting had been fiercest。 All the court was choked with dead orcs or their
severed and scattered heads and limbs。 The place stank of death。 A snarl followed by a blow and a
cry sent him darting back into hiding。 An orc…voice rose in anger； and he knew it again at once；
harsh； brutal； cold。 It was Shagrat speaking； Captain of the Tower。
‘You won't go again； you say？ Curse you； Snaga； you little maggot！ If you think I'm so damaged
that it's safe to flout me； you're mistaken e here； and I'll squeeze your eyes out； like I did to
Radbug just now。 And when some new lads e； I'll deal with you： I'll send you to Shelob。'
‘They won't e； not before you're dead anyway；' answered Snaga surlily。 'I've told you twice
that Gorbag's swine got to the gate first； and none of ours got out。 Lagduf and Muzgash ran through；
but they were shot。 I saw it from a window； I tell you。 And they were the last。'
'Then you must go。 I must stay here anyway。 But I'm hurt。 The Black Pits take that filthy rebel
Gorbag！' Shagrat's voice trailed off into a string of foul names and curses。 ‘I gave him better than I
got； but he knifed me； the dung； before I throttled him。 You must go； or I'll eat you。 News must get
through to Lugbúrz； or we'll both be for the Black Pits。 Yes； you too。 You won't escape by skulking
here。'
‘I'm not going down those stairs again；' growled Snaga； ‘be you captain or no。 Nar！ Keep your
hands off your knife； or I'll put an arrow in your guts。 You won't be a captain long when They hear
about all these goings…on。 I've fought for the Tower against those stinking Morgul…rats； but a nice
mess you two precious captains have made of things； fighting over the swag。'
'That's enough from you；' snarled Shagrat。 ‘I had my orders。 It was Gorbag started it； trying to
pinch that pretty shirt。'
‘Well； you put his back up； being so high and mighty。 And he had more sense than you anyway。
He told you more than once that the most dangerous of these spies was still loose； and you wouldn't
listen。 And you won't listen now。 Gorbag was right； I tell you。 There's a great fighter about； one of
those bloody…handed Elves； or one of the filthy _tarks_。*1 He's ing here； I tell you。 You heard
the bell。 He's got past the Watchers； and that's _tark's_ work。 He's on the stairs。 And until he's off
them； I'm not going down。 Not if you were a Nazg？l； I wouldn't。'
‘So that's it； is it？' yelled Shagrat。 'You'll do this； and you'll not do that？ And when he does e；
you'll bolt and leave me？ No； you won't！ I'll put red maggot…holes in your belly first。'
Out of the turret…door the smaller orc came flying。 Behind him came Shagrat； a large orc with
long arms that； as he ran crouching； reached to the ground。 But one arm hung limp and seemed to
be bleeding； the other hugged a large black bundle。 In the red glare Sam； cowering behind the stair…
door； caught a glimpse of his evil face as it passed： it was scored as if by rending claws and
smeared with blood； slaver dripped from its protruding fangs； the mouth snarled like an animal。
As far as Sam could see； Shagrat hunted Snaga round the roof； until ducking and eluding him
the smaller orc with a yelp darted back into the turret and disappeared。 Then Shagrat halted。 Out of
the eastward door Sam could see him now by the parapet； panting； his left claw clenching and
unclenching feebly。 He put the bundle on the floor and with his right claw drew out a long red knife
and spa