5In the shadow of the mountain


~~~
All Mordor’s armies were marching. The guards had never been so few as in these days of tremors, when it seemed even the earth foretold upset; by night whispers ran among Nurn’s farm slaves.

In dim daylight, Mharjada looked over, whither Enkit drew the harrows, dropped a tell-tale stone. Enkit stumbled, collapsed.

“Hoi! You, slave - up!” The overseer's whip cracked counterpoint command. But as Enkit cringed, Mharjada drew his stolen knife, fell upon the overseer, slit his throat and sent up a ululating howl of bloody victory.

All across Mordor’s heartland, slaves took up that cry, and their world quaked.