"Saruman!"
Gandalf's tone was agitated and stern. "Don't you understand? These orcs are not natural life at all. They are twisted creations. They have no souls, they are not children of Ilúvatar. Their very existence is an embodiment of evil. Even if they now obey you, that does not change their nature. Unless..."
"Unless?"
Saruman repeated the word with mild curiosity, his tone neither warm nor cold.
Gandalf narrowed his eyes.
"Unless you embrace evil."
"Evil." Saruman sounded somewhat scornful. "I know what you're saying, of course, but what of it? I'm only using the Enemy's methods against the Enemy. As for the rest, you can just watch. When the Enemy is utterly destroyed, these 'weapons' used against our great foe will no longer be necessary. I will make them vanish along with his doom."
"No, Saruman, you still don't understand. They are far more than mere 'weapons.' By the name of Eru Ilúvatar, you are now touching a forbidden line."
"How can you speak in His name without authority?"
At the mention of that name, Saruman genuinely grew angry.
For in this world that name, the name of the Creator, represents the highest authority. At least among the Free Peoples, no one would defy it.
When people swear oaths they always invoke a name.
Dwarves and Men swear by their great ancestors and legendary leaders. The Elves invoke the Valar, using the names of the gods as sureties.
But no one uses the Creator's name lightly.
In fact, most of the affairs of this world are not worthy of invoking that name. It is only brought up on occasions of the highest seriousness and authority.
Now that Gandalf spoke thus, it was tantamount to a complete repudiation of Saruman, so complete it denied Saruman himself.
How could he not be angry?
"I only mean to tell you that whatever your purpose, and whoever you intend to use them against, your actions are already pushing you toward darkness. The evil of Mordor shows no sign of waning, yet the evil of Isengard increases."
Saying this, Gandalf shook his head and sighed.
Opposite him, Saruman was equally disappointed.
"I thought your wisdom would let you understand what I do, but it seems I overestimated you. Your decay and ignorance disappoint me."
"You are the one who disappoints me, Saruman. Today I see only a wise man heading in the opposite direction of his mission."
Gandalf stared at Saruman.
Saruman stared back.
Under the tower, the Uruk-hai and the dark Men raised deafening shouts. Gandalf drew a deep breath and turned to leave that noisy place.
"What are you going to do?" Saruman could not help asking from behind.
"Expose your deeds, so all may judge. Before that, you'd better not make any other moves."
"That will not do."
Saruman raised his black staff.
Clang.
One by one the gates closed.
Gandalf frowned and slowly turned back.
"What are you doing, Saruman?"
"My friend, I will not let you ruin my plan."
Saruman sat slowly in his chair and said, "You will stay here and watch, watch how the Enemy is destroyed. Then you will know who was right and who was behind the times."
Gandalf made no reply.
Silence fell again.
Both wizards froze, motionless.
Until Saruman spoke that line.
"Tell me, where is the One Ring now? What arrangements have you made for it? As the wizard of Many Colors, I am confident I can bear all the duties of the Istari, including bringing Sauron to ruin. But that requires a greater power. What I now command is not enough..."
"You disappoint me, Saruman."
The hope in Gandalf's heart finally died. He raised his staff, turned sharply, but in the next instant, he was hurled backward, crashing heavily against the door.
"I knew you'd try some pointless struggle," Saruman said. "It seems I'll have to remind you how to speak properly to me..."
"That's what I was going to say."
Boom!
Flames burst into being in midair. Gandalf ignited the fire of his hope.
He stood tall against the dreadful magic and the spreading darkness, shouting aloud as he raised his staff and forced back Saruman's mental assault.
"Do you think I'm still the same as before?"
Saruman's face hardened, and he increased his power.
His ring blazed with dazzling light. A vast pressure swept out, snuffing Gandalf's flames in an instant.
Pff.
Gandalf was flung to the ground, rolling several times before crashing into the wall. His staff tumbled aside, the old pipe tied to it cracking apart.
The sight made Gandalf wince with pain.
"Give up this pointless resistance. Cooperate with me," Saruman said, walking slowly forward. Cautiously, he kicked Gandalf's staff farther away. Then, glancing at the broken pipe, he added, "I'll buy you a new one."
"It's been with me for over a few hundred years..." Gandalf grumbled.
Then, just as Saruman came close, Gandalf suddenly lunged forward, grabbed Saruman's leg, and yanked hard.
Caught completely off guard, Saruman went down flat, his head meeting the floor with a sharp crack.
Taking advantage of the moment, Gandalf rolled, snatched up his staff, and aimed it straight at Saruman.
Saruman scrambled to his feet, trembling, hastily raising his own staff in defense.
"All's fair in battle."
Boom!
A new clash erupted. Within Orthanc, red and white lights flared wildly as the two old wizards fought with fierce intensity.
Boom!
As they poured their powers against one another, a distant gaze, dark and unseen, was drawn to the growing evil gathered there.
It was so well hidden that neither combatant noticed, not even Gandalf with all his keen perception.
Clang!
"I've won."
After a long battle, Saruman, his head throbbing and a swollen bruise on his face, declared his victory over Gandalf.
Gandalf lay on the floor, barely breathing, in far worse shape than Saruman. He no longer wanted to speak.
I'm tired. Let it all end, he thought.
I've done everything I could.
And besides...
His eyes furtively darted to Saruman's right hand.
That ring, it definitely had something to do with Garrett.
"Get up, Gandalf. I know you've got more potential than this."
Saruman, proud and smug, said, "Now do you acknowledge my power?"
Gandalf drew a painful breath, lifted his head, and rasped, "Saruman..."
Thump.
His heart suddenly skipped a beat.
A chill ran through him. His eyes widened, and despite his injuries he staggered to his feet.
Something was wrong.
Saruman reacted the same way. Both turned toward the window.
Arrrh!
A shrill, piercing scream tore through the sky.
The dark Men and Uruk-hai below all looked up as nine black shapes circled above, each riding a monstrous, winged beast with leathery membranes stretched between its claws.