Chapter 6- The Passing of the Troops



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"Merry! Can't we stop yet? It so dark I can hardly see my own feet walking!" Pippin cried as he stubbed his toe for the fourth time that evening. All the hobbits were exhausted and wanted to stop, but Merry was continuing to push them on. His claim was, they should be nearing the troops now that were marching into the Shire and they should pass by them at night, under the cover of darkness.

"This is ridiculous! Merry, we need to stop. We haven't even eaten dinner. Soon we'll all be dropping dead in the woods if you make us continue on. I'm stopping, whether you like it or not," Frodo seemed satisfied with himself at telling Merry off, but Merry only shrugged and started to walk again; he'd been doing this all night. But this time, the rest of the hobbits were too tired to follow. Sam immediately collapsed on a nearby log, and Frodo and Pippin eagerly joined him.

"What are you doing!? You can't just sleep in the middle of an open area!" Merry was back soon, and seeing them all ready to fall asleep, he began to chastise them for their stupidity. "If you must stop, which I still believe is folly, then you must at least have cover. There's a nice little tree up here, a bit nearer to the road, but hopefully no matter. There's a nice little cozy place under its roots where the four of us could easily fit. We'll be covered and hopefully out of danger. Though, I doubt anyplace is safe at all until we pass by the enemy troops."

"We know Merry. You don't have to scold us! But there's no way Mister Frodo is goin' to get by those troops without stumbling and waking the guard; and neither are you or Mister Pippin. Not without some sleep. We'd be caught if we tried!"

"All the same, I'd rather not stay the night until we've passed them. I'll take first watch, Sam you'll be next. We need to move out as soon as possible in the morning. If we don't, we're likely to meet those troops on our way out," Merry looked like he was still somewhat awake when the company reached the tree. It was a nice little spot to stop, but Frodo wished they'd found it a few hours ago. But he didn't have much time to think, for he soon fell fast asleep.

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Frodo stirred as he heard speaking. He could sense sunlight on his face and all felt peaceful, except the voices. He could hear them in the background, not yet able to understand their meaning, but he gathered form their tone, it wasn't one of his friends. He slowly opened his eyes to see nothing, except trees, grasses, dirt, and three sleeping hobbits.

"Great, someone fell asleep on watch. I must assume that is why I never took watch last night," Frodo sighed. He could still hear the voices, they sounded like they were coming nearer. He strained his ears to hear what they said and experienced quite a little shock.

"Move it, you weaklings! We're headin' to battle! Get a move on! We don't want to have to slow down for one stupid orc! Move it! We've got some hobbits to kill!" Frodo's heart sank, realizing Merry was right, they should have continued last night and passed these orcs. Frodo barely peeped his head over the tree roots to have a look.

Merry had been right about this being closer to the road, but what he didn't know is it was only about fifteen feet form the road. They had been walking at least a hundred feet away, lest they come across the enemy troops marching on the road. The company of orcs passing was of an enormous size. Frodo couldn't see the end of the company either way down the road. He saw in front of him, barely twenty feet away, an orc general, whipping his troops on. Frodo let himself slide back behind the tree, out of view.

"Mister Frodo?" Sam said quietly. The other hobbits had risen too, and were crouched next to Frodo, all trying to push themselves nearer to the tree, further out of sight. Frodo could see Merry, his face gone almost green, worriedly looking round for a safer place. Pippin, had his head in his hands, trying hard not to cry out. They were only four little hobbits, what could they do? Sam was up, slightly looking out on the troops.

"I think there's something coming, Mister Frodo. I've never sent he likes of it before," Sam turned towards Frodo, a look of terror on his face. "It's dressed in all black." Frodo couldn't help but to slightly peer over, it was a rider, clad completely in black robes. It rode a black horse, which sped on the road, but suddenly came to a dead stop. The rider turned it head towards Frodo and Frodo suddenly realized he still had his head in view of the road. He quickly ducked down.

Sam looked at him, Frodo had gone white. Sam heard in the distance a rider dismounting, footsteps. He looked at Merry and Pippin, both huddling together. Sam knew his own face was being drained of color as he heard the footsteps advance towards them.

Frodo looked up, a hole between the roots they had used as a roof, let him see. He saw a wisp of a black robe pass over it before he heard the noise of a person bending down, he suspected the rider was examining something; them and their hiding place. Suddenly, he heard sniffing, like that of an animal tracking prey.

Frodo felt suddenly sick and wished to vanish from this monster's sight. He quietly remembered his ring. He realized it was in his hand, he didn't know how it got there. He fingered it, longing to put it on. He heard the creature moving slightly closer. He noticed Sam and the others were too absorbed in their own fears to notice him. He felt the longing to put the ring on again. He could slip away, leave his friends as he'd been planning to for the last few days. But suddenly he realized, leaving his friends wouldn't help. They'd still be stuck with this rider hovering over them. But the urge to at least disappear was still there.

"Sir! A scout reported that a group of hobbits left the Shire barely a day or so ago. They were seen passing over the border," the orc general's voice cut through Frodo's thoughts suddenly. The rider appeared distracted too, and Frodo regained his senses. The orc leader continued with other information about the doings of the hobbits and Frodo realized that the rider was moving away, listening to the general. But Frodo could almost feel him looking back towards them.

Silently, the hobbits waited for the company to pass. They were never noticed again. But the fear of that rider drove them all to silence. None of them knew what it was but, none ever wished to be anywhere near it again. Luckily, it did not return to inspect them more.

This puzzled Sam. The rider seemed so intent on searching, but gave up as soon as something addressed it. He hoped it no longer cared about what lay under this tree, but he knew he was wrong. He had a feeling in his heart, they'd see that vile thing again. But what more began to bother his mind, as the memory of the rider faded, was that he had just seen the troops that would attack, and possibly kill, his friends. If, he thought, that was just a small portion of what would be set against the hobbits, he didn't wish to imagine what would happen to the Shire.

Frodo tried to keep his thoughts away from the rider, but it seemed near impossible. He soon though, to his relief, began to think of other things. Mostly, of leaving. He had now no indecision about how soon he needed to get away from his friends. He cared for them all, and he had a feeling, that the rider had almost sensed him, not the others, but him and his ring. If he hadn't been here, they never would have been found.

A day or so ago, he'd made up his mind to leave, but he had put it of, for another day with the comfort of his friends. He wanted someone to talk to, to take council with, to be there for support. But he couldn't allow them to get caught and killed with him. For Frodo was now certain that was his fate, death, and by the hand of the vile rider. But he dreaded his friends accompanying him on that journey, so if he cared for them, he knew he must leave them. And as soon as may be, for he guessed the rider would return.

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Hours later, the hobbits stirred from their resting place. The enemy's troops had moved on now, and darkness was falling. The company had passed some hours ago, yet out of fear, the hobbits had not come forth till now. They dreaded spies lurking behind to check for followers. They could hear, though distantly, the sound of a battle. They knew they'd made it to the edges of the Shire and found small villages there, which they would destroy utterly. They wept quietly for all those that didn't have a chance.

The hobbits hadn't enough will to go far that evening. They were sill shaken with the fear of the rider, but that was also what drove them to move. They all shared the same feelings towards it returning. They moved further from the road and on ward for about an hour. By that time, even Merry wished to find a place to rest. Quickly, Frodo claimed the first watch, he'd never taken his the night before.

'All asleep, and now's my chance' Frodo thought quietly. He made for his pack. He quickly checked to make sure he had everything he needed. Quietly, he thought of the ring. He wished to just toss it into the bushes and run from it, but he knew he couldn't. And, he thought, he didn't really want to, something in him was holding him back.

He quietly stood up, taking a last look at his friends. They were sleeping, Sam snoring slightly. He was almost ready to set his pack back down and join them in their rest, but he didn't. He new he had to get away. He could almost feel that that rider was already looking for him again. It made him nervous.

"Good- bye my friends," Frodo said quietly to them, as he turned away. As soon as he was a bit further off, he felt much better. He knew he had a lot of ground to cover before his friends woke. If he didn't get far enough, he knew they find him. They'd look for him in the morning.

Suddenly, he regretted not leaving them some sort of clue that he'd left of his own free will. They might wake and think him kidnapped or worse, dead. But, the might as well think that, he thought, it is my fate.

He continued walking, stumbling every once in awhile. The moon was rising in the distance, he could see a bit better now. He was just stumbling down a small hill, when, to his right he heard a horrible high voice, somewhat like a bird call, yet he knew no bird could make that noise. His head snapped in the direction, looking for the source. He saw, not far to his right, a hooded rider.

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