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 spat on it。 Going to the parapet he leaned over； looking down into the outer court far below。
Twice he shouted but no answer came。
Suddenly； as Shagrat was stooped over the battlement； his back to the roof…top； Sam to his
amazement saw that one of the sprawling bodies was moving。 It was crawling。 It put out a claw and
clutched the bundle。 It staggered up。 In its other hand it held a broad…headed spear with a short
broken haft。 It was poised for a stabbing thrust。 But at that very moment a hiss escaped its teeth； a
gasp of pain or hate。 Quick as a snake Shagrat slipped aside； twisted round； and drove his knife into
his enemy's throat。
‘Got you； Gorbag！' he cried。 'Not quite dead； eh？ Well； I'll finish my job now。' He sprang on to
the fallen body； and stamped and trampled it in his fury； stooping now and again to stab and slash it
with his knife。 Satisfied at last； he threw back his head and let out a horrible gurgling yell of
triumph。 Then he licked his knife； and put it between his teeth； and catching up the bundle he came
loping towards the near door of the stairs。
Sam had no time to think。 He might have slipped out of the other door； but hardly without being
seen； and he could not have played hide…and…seek with this hideous orc for long。 He did what was
probably the best thing he could have done。 He sprang out to meet Shagrat with a shout。 He was no
longer holding the Ring； but it was there； a hidden power； a cowing menace to the slaves of Mordor；
and in his hand was Sting； and its light smote the eyes of the orc like the glitter of cruel stars in the
terrible elf…countries； the dream of which was a cold fear to all his kind。 And Shagrat could not both
fight and keep hold of his treasure。 He stopped； growling； baring his fangs。 Then once more； orc…
fashion； he leapt aside； and as Sam sprang at him； using the heavy bundle as both shield and
weapon； he thrust it hard into his enemy's face。 Sam staggered； and before he could recover；
Shagrat darted past and down the stairs。
Sam ran after him； curs