Chapter 37: Follow Your Nose
Merry offered the dwarf a faint smile as he sagged against the wall that separated them from the cavern of orcs. The expression felt strange on his face. Motioning for Gimli to remain where he was, he edged to the corner of the wall. A few orcs argued on one side. Others carted off yet more weapons. Some finished off the arms they had begun to forge.
"It'll be a close thing, Gimli. Either we make a run for it, or we saunter our way over, hoping to not draw any notice. Either way has a risk." He looked back at the scene. "I suggest we walk to the tunnel. It seems dangerous, but I don't think anyone will take notice. They are all quite frantic right now. And the darkness here will help cover us."
"I will follow your lead as best I can, Merry. Do as you think we should." Gimli sounded tired, and Merry had his first doubts that the dwarf could follow him. Perhaps Merry should have tried to get food first, but he would not risk losing this opportunity.
Merry stepped out, saw that the orcs had yet to notice his absence, then leaned back. "After five paces, follow me. Slowly, as if you're just going about your business. Don't look at them. Just keep going."
"Slowly is doubtless all I can manage. And if someone sees us?"
"Leave that to me. Let's go." Merry didn't know what he'd do if someone saw them, but he didn't want Gimli worrying about anything but moving.
Gimli nodded and Merry turned from him. He stepped out with a deep breath and walked confidently towards the tunnel, still holding the tools he'd pilfered. Grunts and shouts echoed from the cavern, mixed with clangs and bangs of iron as weapons piled up. Sweat dripped from his brow, likely due to more than simply the heat that pulsed around him.
Upon reaching the tunnel, darkness enveloped him, and only then did he turn to see Gimli's progress. The dwarf was only halfway across, lumbering across the open space. Stiff with aches and pains from the last two days of torture, he needed rest and much more Merry could not give him, not yet.
Finally, Gimli gained the tunnel and Merry pulled him farther into the passageway and its protective darkness. They caught their breath while Merry trained his ear on the ruckus beyond, listening for pursuing orcs. After a minute, Merry gestured into the dark and continued, putting an arm around Gimli for support.
He did not speak until he reached the point where he had been earlier, where he could no longer see. "What do you think, Gimli? Wouldn't you say there's something different about the air here? It feels cooler, doesn't it?" He knew Gimli best of all of them would understand the implications in the change of air. He hoped to hear the answer he desired from the dwarf.
"A moment, please, Merry." Gimli panted for a few minutes and Merry regretted pushing him so hard. Gimli glanced behind them. The light from the fires was faint.
"None of them come down this way. That's why I came to see what was here. So, we needn't fear any of them coming this way."
Gimli nodded. "Good. You ask me about the air here, if it is cooler. You think that means there is something different here." He paused, and Merry wondered if he was already tired out.
"The heat is less intense, but that could simply be our distance from the ovens. There is more than that, though. The air is-well, I would not say fresh, but less stale, certainly. You may have found something, Merry!" Gimli clapped him on the back, even as he leaned against the wall in exhaustion.
Merry's heart leapt and he squeezed Gimli's arm. With half a smile Gimli couldn't see, he added thoughtfully, "Gandalf always said when in doubt, follow your nose."
"You understand that whatever path we find out of here will involve climbing of some sort. How are hobbits at climbing?"
The thought of climbing out of the tower made Merry's belly quiver, for a different reason than it had the last few days. "Quite good. At least, with climbing trees. Climbing rock may be something different altogether." Merry tried thinking back to any time he had climbed rocks, but there was nothing of this sort of rock in the Shire. He truly couldn't say if he could climb it or not.
"Aye. And for that we will need tools. What have you got there?"
"I just grabbed these so I wouldn't be walking empty handed." Merry held up tools Gimli couldn't see. "I've got a hammer. And tongs, I think. And whatever these are."
Gimli groped and took each item in turn, identified them by touch, and set them aside. After receiving the last, he said, "These will not help us much, though I think I can make these tongs into a tool of some sort. But a hammer can always be put to use. Not a bad pick, Merry."
"Good. Now, there are other supplies to think of, so I need to go back to the cavern. I've been gone too long already. I'll have to make my return as unnoticeable as any hobbit can be." Merry was already listing supplies in his head and wondering where he might find them.
"They have likely noticed my absence by now."
"Perhaps. It was rather chaotic before we entered the passage. They're busy with preparations. They've got no time for you. So if we're lucky, they won't have noticed."
"Preparations? What's happening?"
"I'll explain. But now I must be sure not to be seen anywhere they might be searching for you. They'll surely blame me. That would be ...bad." Merry shuddered at the thought of Uglúk's punishment.
"You must not get yourself into trouble. Not now!"
"I'll try. Now you must stay well back here in the dark. Don't come near the light, and you should be safe."
"The light hardly enters the cavern. From the edge of darkness there, I can see that you are safe, at least."
Merry began to protest, then gave up and nodded. Gimli would follow him to reassure himself of Merry's safety.
"And while you are dodging orcs, you must also answer the question of how to collect Legolas."
Merry frowned. That would prove a tricky one, to say the least. "Do you know where he is?"
"I do not. But surely he is somewhere close? Forgive me, I can tell you nothing that would help."
Merry nodded and turned back to the entrance, then he stopped: something had changed. He could not hear the orcs. He turned to Gimli, who shook his head.
They crept slower and quieter, uncertain of what they would encounter. Approaching the entrance, clinging to the shadows, they found that the chaos they'd left behind had been transformed into order. Saruman himself stood among them, dispensing instructions to hundreds of orcs that stood about him. It was quiet, far too quiet. There was no possibility they might enter the cave without being noticed. They slunk back into the darkness.
"Gimli, I'll be seen if I go back."
"I agree." Merry heard the regret in his voice.
"This may be the only chance we get."
"I must again agree." With a deep sigh, the dwarf continued. "You cannot chance it. We will have to make do with what tools we have, no supplies..." Gimli sighed heavily again. "And we will have to-we cannot-Legolas must stay behind."
"And Pippin." Merry squeezed his eyes shut.
Gimli groped for him in the dark and patted his shoulder, the strain in his voice growing. "It is no use anyway, lad. Legolas hangs in chains just as I had. Without tools, we could not break that steel, save if we walked up to an orc and asked for his aid."
Merry's gut twisted. He was going to leave Pippin behind! His heart tore in two, and he grasped Gimli's arm. "We must leave them all behind," and Merry could barely get the words out. "But we will come back for them somehow, won't we, Gimli?"
"Of course we will! Yes, of course." Gimli's forced cheer deepened Merry's despair.
"They'll know that, won't they? That we'll come back for them?" He had to believe Pippin would know. Perhaps he had even meant for this to happen when he delivered his message earlier. Or maybe he had thought he'd be going with Merry. But Pippin had to know that Merry would not abandon him. He had to know that this was the only escape they could manage and that they would return for the others.
Gimli was silent as Merry looked back towards the cavern. "They must," the dwarf said roughly. And with that, Gimli turned towards the darkness. "Let us find from where this supposed fresh air comes."
Running one hand along the wall to guide him, Merry thought again of Pippin and remembered his presents. "I wish I had an apple or some bread to give you. Or at least water. You need water, Gimli."
"Fortune has favored us in that respect. Well, she has not abandoned us entirely, I shall say. For when you found me, the orcs were returning me to my chains, having just given me my ration of water. I am not so thirsty as I might be." Gimli laid his hand on Merry's shoulder, as guide and support, and thus they traveled.
They moved for some time through the passageway. Merry stopped often to allow Gimli to rest. The dwarf shuffled along, the shackles on his wrist clanking together on occasion. Hoping to ease Gimli's mind a bit, Merry told Gimli all he knew of Pippin and Strider.
The news of the revelation of Strider's true name and Saruman's plans to exploit the discovery may have brought Gimli more despair. Nevertheless, Gimli's pace gradually increased, while the air cooled to nearly bearable. Merry thought perhaps there were fewer fires where they headed. He dared not hope for freedom at the end of the tunnel. But without realizing it, Merry and Gimli sped up.
The tunnel ended suddenly and Merry felt they stood in a large open space. As their eyes adjusted-for some reason, the darkness was not so thick here-they could see the space was similar to the one they had left behind. Only, no orcs roamed here, and no fires blazed. It was silent and vacant and nearly cool. Merry almost shouted as he felt the fresher air. Could it be?
He entered the cavern at once, no longer hindered by absolute darkness. A cool draft swept by his face, and he breathed deeply, truly smiling for the first time in what felt like an age.
"It looks abandoned," Merry said, a bit confused nevertheless by how this had come about.
Gimli took a few steps forward, looking about in the dimness. "They must have decided they did not need to use this furnace anymore. It was used once. Look at the fire pits." Gimli walked silently about one of the forges and Merry waited when he disappeared behind one for some time. When he returned, Gimli's eyes glowed with suppressed excitement and Merry followed him as he walked over to the hearth. He sniffed deeply, then grinned. "It is fresh, Merry!"
"Yes," Merry said hesitantly, "if you speak of the air, the air here is fresher. We've already noted that. But what are you thinking?"
"My dear hobbit," Gimli said with pride. "You have done it! You have found our escape-do you not see?"
"Eh, no, Gimli. I don't see. I see a cool hearth with fresh air, as you've pointed out, and a big empty room. Maybe one of these branching tunnels leads out, but-you already know how to get out, don't you?"
"Master Merry, think! We have a forge," Gimli said, gesturing excitedly. "What must every forge-or any fire-have?"
Merry looked at him, perplexed. They were trying to escape the Tower of Orthanc and Gimli wanted to play a guessing game? "Wood, Gimli," Merry said flatly, "fire needs wood to burn. Now where's our escape?"
Gimli simply continued to grin at him. "And when that wood burns, what happens?"
Merry rolled his eyes, but knew there was no stopping the dwarf now. "The room will get warm." Seeing that Gimli yet waited for an answer, he continued. "The wood will burn-"
"Yes, yes," Gimli interrupted him impatiently, "and what happens when wood burns?"
"Eh, it makes fire... and... smoke..." Merry's eyes went wide. "Smoke!" He looked up suddenly at the deep furnace. The stone above it continued unbroken into the darkness above. "It must have a chimney, a vent that goes all the way to the surface!"
"Yes!" Gimli clapped Merry's shoulder soundly. "Now, all we have to do," his smile faded a bit as he looked up, "is climb the vent. I hope you are as good at climbing as you have said. We now have to accomplish this escape with naught but our hands and what meager tools we have."
"Hands and feet, remember."
Gimli looked at Merry's hobbit-sized feet and smiled. "Well, may your Brandybuck heritage serve you well. I hope what we propose is even possible. If the vent has been carved well and made smooth, there will be little for us to grasp. It is my hope that the hammer and tongs will aid us."
"Well, then we should have no trouble at all. How well do you think orcs make vents?"
Gimli laughed heartily then held his waist. "Oh, it has been too long since I have had cause to laugh. You are right, of course, we will likely have no trouble at all. All right, Merry, climb up into the fire pit. I will be right behind you."
Merry crawled into the pit, an odd feeling despite the coolness of the charred wood and ashes. Above, there was indeed a chimney for the smoke. But how would they reach it?
Gimli followed Merry and pointed ahead. "Not the chimney, Merry. We will use the vent." Merry could barely make out anything before him. The dark seemed never-ending. "That is the vent, ahead of you. It is the source of ventilation for the forge. They would bring air in through here with a bellows to increase the heat of the forge. Ahead is the vent that must lead to the surface. This is our way out, Merry."
"But shouldn't it go up?"
"I expect after a short time it does." Gimli prodded Merry into the vent and the hobbit plodded along. Small as they were, they were able to walk nearly upright in the confined space. But it was pitch black and so they crept along using hands and feet to guide their way.
Eventually, the channel began to curve upwards. Still afraid to hope, Merry dared not mention that the darkness was abating as well. But after a few feet of steep crawling, Gimli gasped. "Look, Merry!"
Above them, within a field of utter black, Merry saw a window of deep midnight blue, a seeming eternity away. As the end to their journey would be, he realized, understanding then the endeavor they had before them. He took a deep breath. They were truly going to leave this nightmare. Merry thought of those they left behind and prayed they had the strength to last until their return. His thoughts lingered on his cousin, and he hoped Pippin would feel Merry's strength with him.
"Wait a moment," Gimli said then. Taking out the tongs he had pocketed, he wrenched them apart, creating two pieces of metal. "Now we have two footholds, if I can manage to get them into the rock with the hammer."
With the makeshift climbing tools, they began their ascent. The tongs proved helpful often enough. But as Merry had predicted, the vent was roughly hewn and there were crevices aplenty to aid their climb. Merry proved as good at climbing as he'd claimed, and they made their way to the surface.
After hours that seemed days, arms and legs aching, hands and feet bloody, Merry felt a breeze of pure clean air blow through his hair. A more glorious feeling he could not remember. Then he saw it-a starlit sky fading in the pale blue of early dawn. They had reached the surface.
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