Author's Note: Thanks to everyone for the encouraging reviews!
I'm still new to this, but it's been fun writing. I promise,
this story does have a definite ending (although there are still
many chapters coming, I know how it will end so you won't be left
hanging!). Thanks again and I hope you enjoy the rest of the
story.
Chapter 6 Sayeed
Sam had ridden on small hobbit sized ponies many times in his life, and he desperately wished for one now. He rode in front of a tall Haradrim rider atop an even taller Haradrim steed. The horse's broad back was a very uncomfortable seat for one as small as he. Sam had spent a good deal of the day's ride unconscious, but when he awoke in the late afternoon, the rider forced him to drink some bitter liquid that at least dulled the pain and made him more alert. There were probably twenty riders in the band, all wearing the same black and red armor. They spoke little and usually in some language Sam didn't understand. They never spoke to him, including the rider who carried him. Sam wearily wondered how far they would have to travel. He knew nothing about these lands and had no concept of where the riders came from. He just knew they were taking him farther and farther from home.
The troop had ridden tirelessly and rarely stopped. The horses were strong and fleet and it appeared to Sam that they could go on forever. However, as the sun dropped low on the horizon, Captain Fahim reined in his horse and looked around. They had been traveling parallel to the mountains on the west and had now come to a second range blocking their way to the south. It was apparent that the troop planned to camp at the foot of these mountains and the men began to dismount. Sam's captor gracefully swung down from his horse then lifted Sam to the ground. Sam's legs felt weak and numb and collapsed under him. He grunted in pain as he hit the ground. The rider shook his head, reached down to grab Sam, then strode off towards the captain with the hapless hobbit under his arm.
It was obvious that the rider was not keen on being stuck babysitting a prisoner for the entire journey. The captain conferred with him briefly, then signaled for a smaller man to join them. When the newcomer removed his helm, it was obvious that he was little more than a boy. The captain turned to Sam, "This is Sayeed. He is now responsible for you and you must obey his every order." Captain Fahim studied Sam more carefully in the fading sunlight, then turned to Sayeed. "Take him to Takir for medical care. I did not realize he had been so badly treated by those foul orcs. We do not want the Emperor's prize to die before we reach home!" He turned away to confer with several other riders, obviously dismissing them.
The boy looked down at Sam with frank curiosity. Other than children, he had never seen such a small person before. "What do they call you?" he asked in heavily accented Westron.
"My name is Samwise Gamgee," replied Sam hoarsely, "But most people simply call me Sam. Please sir, might I have some water?" Sayeed looked at Sam in concern. He suddenly realized how injured the small man looked. He quickly reached to his belt and handed Sam a wooden water flask. Sam drank desperately. He couldn't remember the last water he'd had. It must have been the previous day, before the orcs captured him. He was still sitting on the ground where the first rider had set him, and he wasn't sure he had the strength or the energy to regain his legs. They were starting to have some feeling again, but he didn't think he could walk. His hands were also feeling numb having been tied for so long. He fumbled the water flask as he tried to hand it back to Sayeed.
Sayeed squatted next to Sam and with a large knife, deftly cut the bonds binding his hands. "I do not think you will run away," the boy said thoughtfully. "Can you walk?"
Sam shook his head slowly and looked at the boy. Sayeed was tall and thin, but looked no more than 15 years in Sam's opinion, although he hadn't seen many human children. He was dark like the other men, but with a smooth almond complexion, dark, mahogany eyes and a ready grin. His hair was thick and black, tied in a braid in the back. In turn, the young man studied Sam. He was intrigued by this small man. He had heard Sam tell about his part in destroying the Ring, but it was hard to believe that someone no bigger than a child could traverse the hostile barrens of Mordor and Mt. Doom, destroy the power of the One Ring, and then survive to tell about it. Well, hopefully he would survive. Sayeed frowned as he viewed Sam's injuries. It was time to take him to the healer.
"Come then, Sam," Said announced, "It is time to go and get you looked at." With little effort, Sayeed lifted the wasted Hobbit in his arms and set off to a corner of the camp where an older man was brushing his steaming horse. The man looked up as Sayeed approached.
"I was wondering when you would arrive," the man said in a matter of fact way. He turned his attention to Sam. "So, you are a hobbit. I have never heard of your people, but I assume you are like other men, just smaller. I will do what I can for you. I am Takir" The healer motioned for Sayeed to set Sam down on a blanket near the horse as he searched through his pack for his supplies.
Takir was skilled at his profession and he deftly cleaned and bandaged Sam's many wounds and injuries. He applied a gooey, green salve which seemed to bring almost instant relieve from the pain. He then forced Sam to drink several different unpleasant tonics. Finally, Takir sat back on heels and surveyed his patient. "There," he sighed, "I have done all I can for you, my friend. Why you are still alive, I do not know. You hobbits must be a hardy people. Now, you need much rest and nourishment. One of the tonics I gave you will make you sleep. Another I hope will help heal your damaged lungs. Although, I fear those may never fully heal. Infection is now our biggest concern." The healer looked at Sayeed, "You and the hobbit must stay by me tonight so I may keep an eye on him. He will need my care for some time if we are to insure he survives the trip to Harad."
Sayeed nodded and turned to Sam, "I must go and care for my horse, Indah, but I shall return shortly. You will stay here with Takir." Sam was lying on the blanket and felt as if his ears were stuffed with cotton. Sayeed's voice seemed to become more and more muffled until Sam couldn't make out a single word. His entire body felt as heavy as lead and slowly but surely, darkness covered all of Sam's thoughts and he knew no more.
Chapter 6 Sayeed
Sam had ridden on small hobbit sized ponies many times in his life, and he desperately wished for one now. He rode in front of a tall Haradrim rider atop an even taller Haradrim steed. The horse's broad back was a very uncomfortable seat for one as small as he. Sam had spent a good deal of the day's ride unconscious, but when he awoke in the late afternoon, the rider forced him to drink some bitter liquid that at least dulled the pain and made him more alert. There were probably twenty riders in the band, all wearing the same black and red armor. They spoke little and usually in some language Sam didn't understand. They never spoke to him, including the rider who carried him. Sam wearily wondered how far they would have to travel. He knew nothing about these lands and had no concept of where the riders came from. He just knew they were taking him farther and farther from home.
The troop had ridden tirelessly and rarely stopped. The horses were strong and fleet and it appeared to Sam that they could go on forever. However, as the sun dropped low on the horizon, Captain Fahim reined in his horse and looked around. They had been traveling parallel to the mountains on the west and had now come to a second range blocking their way to the south. It was apparent that the troop planned to camp at the foot of these mountains and the men began to dismount. Sam's captor gracefully swung down from his horse then lifted Sam to the ground. Sam's legs felt weak and numb and collapsed under him. He grunted in pain as he hit the ground. The rider shook his head, reached down to grab Sam, then strode off towards the captain with the hapless hobbit under his arm.
It was obvious that the rider was not keen on being stuck babysitting a prisoner for the entire journey. The captain conferred with him briefly, then signaled for a smaller man to join them. When the newcomer removed his helm, it was obvious that he was little more than a boy. The captain turned to Sam, "This is Sayeed. He is now responsible for you and you must obey his every order." Captain Fahim studied Sam more carefully in the fading sunlight, then turned to Sayeed. "Take him to Takir for medical care. I did not realize he had been so badly treated by those foul orcs. We do not want the Emperor's prize to die before we reach home!" He turned away to confer with several other riders, obviously dismissing them.
The boy looked down at Sam with frank curiosity. Other than children, he had never seen such a small person before. "What do they call you?" he asked in heavily accented Westron.
"My name is Samwise Gamgee," replied Sam hoarsely, "But most people simply call me Sam. Please sir, might I have some water?" Sayeed looked at Sam in concern. He suddenly realized how injured the small man looked. He quickly reached to his belt and handed Sam a wooden water flask. Sam drank desperately. He couldn't remember the last water he'd had. It must have been the previous day, before the orcs captured him. He was still sitting on the ground where the first rider had set him, and he wasn't sure he had the strength or the energy to regain his legs. They were starting to have some feeling again, but he didn't think he could walk. His hands were also feeling numb having been tied for so long. He fumbled the water flask as he tried to hand it back to Sayeed.
Sayeed squatted next to Sam and with a large knife, deftly cut the bonds binding his hands. "I do not think you will run away," the boy said thoughtfully. "Can you walk?"
Sam shook his head slowly and looked at the boy. Sayeed was tall and thin, but looked no more than 15 years in Sam's opinion, although he hadn't seen many human children. He was dark like the other men, but with a smooth almond complexion, dark, mahogany eyes and a ready grin. His hair was thick and black, tied in a braid in the back. In turn, the young man studied Sam. He was intrigued by this small man. He had heard Sam tell about his part in destroying the Ring, but it was hard to believe that someone no bigger than a child could traverse the hostile barrens of Mordor and Mt. Doom, destroy the power of the One Ring, and then survive to tell about it. Well, hopefully he would survive. Sayeed frowned as he viewed Sam's injuries. It was time to take him to the healer.
"Come then, Sam," Said announced, "It is time to go and get you looked at." With little effort, Sayeed lifted the wasted Hobbit in his arms and set off to a corner of the camp where an older man was brushing his steaming horse. The man looked up as Sayeed approached.
"I was wondering when you would arrive," the man said in a matter of fact way. He turned his attention to Sam. "So, you are a hobbit. I have never heard of your people, but I assume you are like other men, just smaller. I will do what I can for you. I am Takir" The healer motioned for Sayeed to set Sam down on a blanket near the horse as he searched through his pack for his supplies.
Takir was skilled at his profession and he deftly cleaned and bandaged Sam's many wounds and injuries. He applied a gooey, green salve which seemed to bring almost instant relieve from the pain. He then forced Sam to drink several different unpleasant tonics. Finally, Takir sat back on heels and surveyed his patient. "There," he sighed, "I have done all I can for you, my friend. Why you are still alive, I do not know. You hobbits must be a hardy people. Now, you need much rest and nourishment. One of the tonics I gave you will make you sleep. Another I hope will help heal your damaged lungs. Although, I fear those may never fully heal. Infection is now our biggest concern." The healer looked at Sayeed, "You and the hobbit must stay by me tonight so I may keep an eye on him. He will need my care for some time if we are to insure he survives the trip to Harad."
Sayeed nodded and turned to Sam, "I must go and care for my horse, Indah, but I shall return shortly. You will stay here with Takir." Sam was lying on the blanket and felt as if his ears were stuffed with cotton. Sayeed's voice seemed to become more and more muffled until Sam couldn't make out a single word. His entire body felt as heavy as lead and slowly but surely, darkness covered all of Sam's thoughts and he knew no more.