As we were herded out of the iron gates I was thankful to find that it was nightfall. I had grown used to the darkness, to be exposed to light after all this time would have surely caused me some form of injury. We were taken across the great circle along the centre path. I took a deep breath expecting fresh air, though it’s taste was no sweeter than the ash and smoke I had become accustomed to beneath the surface. Eventually we came to a halt, forming a circle beside an incomplete siege tower near the far eastern wall. Fásh was there to meet us, as was Sparrow who was on her knees, her hair hanging covering her face.
I did not know what to expect from these creatures, all I could do was watch as Fásh made a speech explaining what would happen to those who would defy the will of the White Hand. Sparrow was motionless, refusing to move an inch until the great Uruk seized her hair once more to display her face to the crowd. She was always gifted at hiding fear, though having shared her company for so many years I could easily see through that mask of hers. My trail of thought was broken however as one of the guarding Uruks pushed me forwards into the circle, laughing as I fell to the ground. As I lifted my head I saw a blade pressed against my throat, Fásh’s blade encouraging me to my feet.
The Uruks knew of my ill-conceived plan, they knew that I had a part to play in Sparrow’s actions due her clumsiness but mainly due to my own arrogance. I know now how foolish I was to think that being armed would grant me passage out of Isengard. I am a fair swordsman, able to have taken one or perhaps two of the guards, but against the horde beneath I am helpless. Madness took me, as it often did when I felt cornered or desperate, now Sparrow would pay the price. I denied Fásh’s accusations of treachery; I had even denied having any knowledge of the woman at my feet. After all the trials we had faced together, the countless times she had saved my life and aided me without question, I was willing to abandon her to death in order to spare myself. Fásh however was not so easily convinced; he could see through the lies in my eyes and therefore devised a new punishment for us.
With a clap of his hands, a guard brought forth a small sack which rattled as he placed it upon ground. The Uruk ordered me to pull one of the instruments from inside, I obeyed without question. Within the sack I felt a number of sharp objects, spiked and curved in places. Eventually however I selected a long iron rod which revealed itself to be a branding iron. Cold laughter echoed around me as I held it loosely at my side, my eyes focused upon Fásh whose scared and mutilated face only leered at me with glee. I did not need to ask what needed to be done, though Fásh instructed me to heat the iron with my bare hands within the fire beside the tower. Without so much as a second glance towards Sparrow I turned, thrusting the iron into the embers. Sweat began to pour down my face as the heat slowly made its way up the rod. As it burnt into my palm I fought against the urge to shout out in pain, refusing to show weakness to the overseers.
When the end of the iron was glowing within the fire I pulled it away, turning back to the middle circle in which Sparrow lay with her back exposed. I could feel countless eyes upon me as I approached, lifting the brand upwards with my teeth clenched as my skin ripped and tore against the iron handle. With a sharp breath I pressed the end against her shoulder, the vicious hissing sound soon downed out by an agonising scream, a scream that cut through me like a hot knife through butter. I held it there for a moment before quickly dropping the brand before Fásh’s feet. I then stepped over her as I moved towards the Uruk, displaying my bloody, burnt hand as I whispered the words “for Isengard” which to my surprise I heard repeated by none other than Sparrow herself. One of the guards pushed through the terrified captives and threw a bucket of dirty water over Sparrow’s back. She lay shivering upon the ground curled up into a ball as Fásh made another speech. I stood completely numb to his words as I stared down at the woman I had just tortured, my former companion and wife by law, the symbol of the white hand now burnt into her skin forever.
