The smoke filled tavern was completely cut off from the afternoon light,guttering candles sat in recesses and all around hobbit men drank and smoked with friends,trying to ignore the strange meeting that was happening between Gandalf and the warlike man who had damaged their bridge.
"Its not right,"said one hobbit to another, "Bringin' strange big folk here and disturbin' the peace, 'specially with queer goin's on already."
"ee'll have 'is reasons"the barmaid interjected as she slammed down a tray full of yet more pints.
"This means trouble,mark my words."another local farmer said.
The whisperings and disapproving mutterings slowly gave way to laughter and the singing of old songs the more the bar's clientèle drank. Soon no-one paid any heed to Gandalf and his drinking partner who had never tasted the sweet beer the locals brewed and was enjoying it very much.
Gandalf laughed heartily as smoke curled from his pipe in unnatural ways, "If your tales are to be believed master Beowulf then you are certainly the man for the job, forfeiting a swimming race to take on countless sea monsters indeed!"
"Now perhaps I shall tell you some of my tales,"he continued stroking his beard thoughtfully,he was silent for a moment and began to spin Beowulf some stories about his travels. He told of the battles he had witnessed,the monsters he had slain,his great journey with one of the Shire people known as Bilbo Baggins. The more he spoke and the more Beowulf questioned him the more fluent in Beowulf's tongue Gandalf became.
It seemed to Beowulf that as he spoke the smoke from his pipe twisted into shapes and images to
illustrate his tales. He was impressed by this magic,the most his local wizard had ever done was to stare at runes while claiming to commune with the gods.
"That is indeed a remarkable story,"marvelled Beowulf, "Your deeds put mine to shame. But I grow weary,let us talk business,what is the monster you wish me to kill?"
"Not kill,goodness no,that would be impossible."Gandalf said mysteriously,resting his gnarled hands on the hobbit sized table. These creatures are known as Nazgul,the most feared servants of the great evil I have already told you a little about. In your tongue I believe you would call them,erm...Wraiths of the ring?"
"An ominous name indeed,"commented Beowulf,looking at the smoke from Gandalf's pipe which had now curled itself into the form of a fearsome cloaked rider atop a black horse.
"They cannot truly be killed as they died long ago. Although fire and running water they cannot abide,you will be able to do them great suffering if you use those elements on them."
Beowulf thought long and hard then eventually said, "I shall kill this wraith for you,that is a fair price to pay for help in returning to my own lands."
"You must understand it is not one creature,there are nine."Gandalf spoke these words slowly and seriously.
"Me and my men are to face nine unstoppable undead wraiths?"exclaimed Beowulf loudly,standing up in his passion. Several of the hobbits stared,it was a good thing he was speaking in his own language,otherwise he may have caused great panic in the Shire.
"I did not say the task would be easy,"said Gandalf, "But these creatures must be waylaid if my friends are to stand any chance in their mission. I myself could send these creatures away with a wave of my hand but there are matters of great importance that I must attend to,the fate of our world and indeed yours depends on my success."
"I do not relish telling my men of their task but it shall be done."Beowulf got up and made to leave.
"I wish you luck in your task,"were the last words that Gandalf spoke to him in a long time...
/
Some time had now passed since Beowulf had told his shipmates of the task at hand,the sun was getting low in the sky as they sat,feeling the tension build. The longboat was still grounded against the bridge but now a little more organised,as a gesture of goodwill some of Beowulf's men had even taken the time to repair the bridge. Occasionally a hobbit trotted past on an errand,avoiding eye contact with the men.
Beowulf looked up from a deep thought as Wiglaf came aboard and informed him that he had placed small beacon fires around the area as ordered,they were ready to be lit at a moment's notice.
"I think our mysterious wizard friend has informed some of them of what is happening,"continued Wiglaf, "A few of the little fellows even brought out wood to me and helped me place it."
Beowulf smiled and replied, "Perhaps they think this is an invasion,earlier on a few of them ran up to the boat and set down a pile of bread then ran off. Maybe they are trying to appease us so we don't attack them."
"A shame we can't get a few more of them on our side,"said Wiglaf, "A large number of them would be a force to be reckoned with,and we could certainly do with the help against what we are facing."
The two talked like this for some time until the sun dipped below the horizon and the pleasant Shire was bathed in a soft darkness,the smells of greenery drifted across the noses of the warriors reminding them of the pastures they tended in times of peace.
It was late into the night when they first heard signs of trouble,a few miles down the river a sounding of urgent horns could be heard,it was quickly spreading over the entire Shire. Several of Beowulf's men grinned and blew their own horns just to join in the thrill of the call to battle,soon the Hobbit's voices were raised in an ancient call to arms along with the roar of the horns. None of the Geat's understood the Hobbit watchmen who ran from village to village shouting , "Fear Fire Foes! Awake!"
"Fear Fire Foes! Awake!"yelled Beowulf's men,mimicking the Hobbit tongue,caught up in the exhilaration of the cry Beowulf himself shouted loudly and clearly, "Fear Fire Foes! Awake!"
The alarms and shouts sang long into the night,when they were beginning to die down everyone on the boat went silent as they heard hoof beats pounding their way towards the bridge. Beowulf steadied himself and as one of the dark figures galloped across the bridge just inches from his face he leapt up and drove his sword into the horse. It keeled over and it's cloaked rider rolled painfully off,enraged it got to its feet and advanced on Beowulf holding its evil glinting sword in readiness. The hoofbeats of two more horses could be heard approaching in the distance.
Beowulf prised his sword from the forsaken horse and turned upon the wraith, "Light the fires!" he cried charging forward to meet the nazgul. He ducked narrowly avoiding the creature's mighty sword and leapt upon the robed figure,attempting to pin it down. Even as he wrestled upon the Brandywine bridge with it one of Beowulf's men had been running between Wiglaf's carefully laid beacons setting them aflame with a torch that they had kept burning in a hidden place. Plumes of flame rose into the sky on all sides of the bridge bathing the scene in a light brighter than day.
The rest of Beowulf's forces poured off the boat and came to his aid,one even attempted to wrest the creature's hateful blade from its hand but failed. With great effort they grabbed the cloaked wraith bodily and thrust it into the Brandywine where it writhed horribly from being surrounded by the running water it despised so much. The wraith abandoned the cloak that surrounded it and was carried away formless by the river,leaving only a pile of cloth and an evil looking blade which lay there until it rusted away many years later.
Exhausted the men turned and gathered their strength to face the next wave of the things coming up the road. "Do not let them pass the bridge,"gasped Beowulf,running forward and grabbing a burning branch from one of the blazing fires. He charged to meet the two making the horses rear up wildly,as scared of fire as their masters were. The Wraiths fought to regain control of their mounts then stepped off them silently,they turned and advanced on Beowulf who was far from the aid of his men,he made wild slashing motions in the air with his burning branch that made the pair pause briefly in their slow glide towards him but on they came. He ducked avoiding a strike from one of them and thrust the branch against it's cloak.
The flame caught and within moments the Nazgul was a moving man shaped flame running towards the bridge. Beowulf's baffled men jumped aside to let it pass,it was far down the road when it finally knelt and let the flames consume its empty cloak.
The remaining wraith snarled and backed away,it slashed its sword in frustration at Beowulf then vanished into the night. Beowulf looked down,the sword had sliced him clean across the chest. He felt gravely ill and fell to the ground, the fires crackled and his men rushed to their chieftain's aid.
His vision blurred and all went black...