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They
were
like
great
figures
seated
upon
thrones
.
Each
had
three
joined
bodies
,
and
three
heads
facing
outward
,
and
inward
,
and
across
the
gateway
.
The
heads
had
vulture-faces
,
and
on
their
great
knees
were
laid
clawlike
hands
.
They
seemed
to
be
carved
out
of
huge
blocks
of
stone
,
immovable
,
and
yet
they
were
aware
:
some
dreadful
spirit
of
evil
vigilance
abode
in
them
.
They
knew
an
enemy
.
Visible
or
invisible
none
could
pass
unheeded
.
They
would
forbid
his
entry
,
or
his
escape
.
Hardening
his
will
Sam
thrust
forward
once
again
,
and
halted
with
a
jerk
,
staggering
as
if
from
a
blow
upon
his
breast
and
head
.
Then
greatly
daring
,
because
he
could
think
of
nothing
else
to
do
,
answering
a
sudden
thought
that
came
to
him
,
he
drew
slowly
out
the
phial
of
Galadriel
and
held
it
up
.
Its
white
light
quickened
swiftly
,
and
the
shadows
under
the
dark
arch
fled
.
The
monstrous
Watchers
sat
there
cold
and
still
,
revealed
in
all
their
hideous
shape
.
For
a
moment
Sam
caught
a
glitter
in
the
black
stones
of
their
eyes
,
the
very
malice
of
which
made
him
quail
;
but
slowly
he
felt
their
will
waver
and
crumble
into
fear
.
He
sprang
past
them
;
but
even
as
he
did
so
,
thrusting
the
phial
back
into
his
bosom
,
he
was
aware
,
as
plainly
as
if
a
bar
of
steel
had
snapped
to
behind
him
,
that
their
vigilance
was
renewed
.
And
from
those
evil
heads
there
came
a
high
shrill
cry
that
echoed
in
the
towering
walls
before
him
.
Far
up
above
,
like
an
answering
signal
,
a
harsh
bell
clanged
a
single
stroke
.
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"
That
's
done
it
!
"
said
Sam
.
"
Now
I
've
rung
the
front-door
bell
!
Well
,
come
on
somebody
!
"
he
cried
.
"
Tell
Captain
Shagrat
that
the
great
Elf-warrior
has
called
,
with
his
elf-sword
too
!
"
There
was
no
answer
.
Sam
strode
forward
.
Sting
glittered
blue
in
his
hand
.
The
courtyard
lay
in
deep
shadow
,
but
he
could
see
that
the
pavement
was
strewn
with
bodies
.
Right
at
his
feet
were
two
orc-archers
with
knives
sticking
in
their
backs
.
Beyond
lay
many
more
shapes
;
some
singly
as
they
had
been
hewn
down
or
shot
;
others
in
pairs
,
still
grappling
one
another
,
dead
in
the
very
throes
of
stabbing
,
throttling
,
biting
.
The
stones
were
slippery
with
dark
blood
.
Two
liveries
Sam
noticed
,
one
marked
by
the
Red
Eye
,
the
other
by
a
Moon
disfigured
with
a
ghastly
face
of
death
;
but
he
did
not
stop
to
look
more
closely
.
Across
the
court
a
great
door
at
the
foot
of
the
Tower
stood
half
open
,
and
a
red
light
came
through
;
a
large
orc
lay
dead
upon
the
threshold
.
Sam
sprang
over
the
body
and
went
in
;
and
then
he
peered
about
at
a
loss
.
A
wide
and
echoing
passage
led
back
from
the
door
towards
the
mountain-side
.
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It
was
dimly
lit
with
torches
flaring
in
brackets
on
the
walls
,
but
its
distant
end
was
lost
in
gloom
.
Many
doors
and
openings
could
be
seen
on
this
side
and
that
;
but
it
was
empty
save
for
two
or
three
more
bodies
sprawling
on
the
floor
.
From
what
he
had
heard
of
the
captains
"
talk
Sam
knew
that
,
dead
or
alive
,
Frodo
would
most
likely
be
found
in
a
chamber
high
up
in
the
turret
far
above
;
but
he
might
search
for
a
day
before
he
found
the
way
.
"
It
'll
be
near
the
back
,
I
guess
,
"
Sam
muttered
.
"
The
whole
Tower
climbs
backwards-like
.
And
anyway
I
'd
better
follow
these
lights
.
"
He
advanced
down
the
passage
,
but
slowly
now
,
each
step
more
reluctant
.
Terror
was
beginning
to
grip
him
again
.
There
was
no
sound
save
the
rap
of
his
feet
,
which
seemed
to
grow
to
an
echoing
noise
,
like
the
slapping
of
great
hands
upon
the
stones
.
The
dead
bodies
;
the
emptiness
;
the
dank
black
walls
that
in
the
torchlight
seemed
to
drip
with
blood
;
the
fear
of
sudden
death
lurking
in
doorway
or
shadow
;
and
behind
all
his
mind
the
waiting
watchful
malice
at
the
gate
:
it
was
almost
more
than
he
could
screw
himself
to
face
.
He
would
have
welcomed
a
fight
-
with
not
too
many
enemies
at
a
time
--
rather
than
this
hideous
brooding
uncertainty
.
He
forced
himself
to
think
of
Frodo
,
lying
bound
or
in
pain
or
dead
somewhere
in
this
dreadful
place
.
He
went
on
.