Chapter 13
Hearing the mentioning of the ring, Frodo's face clouded. He looked

at the table and then turned to Merry. Reluctance was seeping through

his heart. Frodo didn't say anything.

Merry raised his eyebrows.

"What?" Merry asked in obvious irritation. "You don't want

to answer that? I've told you, Frodo. It's not me who denies you the

bread. It's you yourself. You just need to reply, and boom! You get

your bread."

Frodo shifted in his chair. He felt his stomach roaring again. Frodo

cast his glance to the piles of food that were awaiting his answer.

"I --- I can't answer that. It is to be kept secret."

Merry shrugged. "Up to you, Frodo. Just remember that you can't have

your bread before ---"

Merry didn't finish his sentence, merely staring at the dazed face in

front of him. Surely a portion of applesauce couldn't be enough to

quench a several-days-without-food kind of hunger, could it? He was

looking at Frodo silently.

Be patient, he reminded himself. He knew his cousin very well and he

knew Frodo could be very stubborn sometimes. But in his weakened

condition, Merry was sure Frodo would eventually give up. He reached

out to touch Frodo's sweaty curls but the hobbit flinched.

Merry glared. Apparently he had lost Frodo's hard-won trust -

trust that Merry had forged by manipulating Frodo's fear of him. But

now the trust was gone. Cursing silently to himself, Merry blamed his

own impatience. This shouldn't have happened too quickly, not when he

still needed Frodo to tell him the secret.

Frodo started to shiver and sat restlessly in his chair. He didn't

dare to raise his eyes. The minutes passed by seemed like eons. Not

once in that time did Merry and Pippin release Frodo from their

relentless gaze-not while Frodo remained silent. A few times Frodo

shut his eyes when the feeling of fear and intimidation became

unbearable. In the meantime he tried to calm his hungry stomach that

protested harder and harder. Frodo was at the brink of giving up when

he saw Merry rise from his chair and sigh loudly. Frodo's bigger-

shaped cousin took one of the buns and turned to Frodo, towering over

him.

"All right then, Cousin," Merry finally said in a huff. "I

can't stand seeing you torturing yourself like this. You may take

this roll."

Merry handed the shivering hobbit the bread.

Frodo's brilliant eyes shone apprehensively and distrustfully. What

would be the catch for this, he wondered silently. And finally,

after thinking for a while, Frodo took the roll with a trembling hand.

"Thanks," Frodo murmured meekly, and with no small measure of fear.

Frodo wasn't paying attention to Merry anymore as he sent the bread

to his mouth. Frodo didn't see as Merry's right hand flew violently

in his direction and backhanded his face as hard as it could, sending

Frodo flying from his seat to the floor. His ears rung, his cheek

stung like fire, and his body crashed hard. Frodo moaned weakly

before darkness overpowered him.

**********

A noise from the outside woke Sam from his sleep. "Whatever is

happening?" he muttered. He was a bit upset because of the

disturbance. He had been sleeping too little, spending most of the

time searching for Mr. Frodo.

Both he and Strider were at a loss as to what other places to look

for Frodo. Frodo and his kidnappers had seemingly disappeared into

thin air. Might they have gone out of Bree? Strider was most

discouraged. How could an experienced Ranger such as himself lose

track of a hobbit in a city of men? Worse, he had promised Sam that

he would find his master as soon as possible - but to no avail.

Days had passed by since he first spotted Frodo's bound frame at

Prancing Pony and since he first met Sam. Strider understood that

Frodo's life was in greater peril with every passing day.

Sam jumped out of his bed and saw that Strider was no longer in the

room. He went to the window. People were crowding on the street

across the inn in the far right. Curious, he grabbed his cape and

went outside.

Strider was already there. Sam tapped his shoulder.

"What is it?" he whispered. Strider didn't say anything, just pulling

Sam closer to him.

"You don't need to see it. It is terrible beyond words"

"Strider, what ---" But it was Sam himself who pulled his own body

away from the crowd. He had seen it though, -- briefly. A body. A

woman, it seemed. With her head almost cut off. Mutilated.

Sam backed into a corner and fell to his knees, retching. He heaved

over and over. Oh, what a horrifying view! He was reminded suddenly

of Mr. Frodo. Sam shuddered. That could have been Frodo --- oh, no!

He cut off his own train of thought angrily. He couldn't lose hope

now!

Sam heard steps behind him and a voice, "Are you all right?"

Strider.

Sam nodded and asked in quivering voice, "What --- what happened?"

Strider shook his head. " I've no idea, but I will find out. I

suspect all of this has something to do with your master."

Sam preferred otherwise. It had better have NOTHING to do with Frodo.

*********

(Flashback)

The woman stared in disbelief. Her mouth was slightly open.

"Why the knife ---" But she was cut short.

"Don't say anything. Don't even think of screaming," snapped the man.

She couldn't do anything but to walk slowly toward the door. The man

and his two companions followed from behind.

At first the woman thought they would just talk outside near the inn,

but the men motioned her to go on. They continued for a small

eternity, for how far, she could not tell. Exhausted, she was

panting heavily.

"Where are we going?" asked her. Nobody replied, just signaling her

to keep on going.

Finally, when they got to a deserted alley, one of the men pulled her

back. "Here will be fine."

The woman turned around, fear shadowing her eyes. She didn't dare to

ask anything. This was too much for a softhearted mother like her.

"You know exactly where to find the hobbit." This was a statement,

not a question. Terrified, she just nodded.

"We don't want to disturb the other guests. That's why we don't want

to break into each room to find him. Secrecy is very important."

"But why?" Suddenly she found her voice again. "The poor boy is just

an unlucky thief, although I myself don't believe he is a thief

at

all! He is too delicate to steal. Besides, the little thing has been

treated very badly by his two captors.

"Thief? So he is a thief? Are you sure?" Ted turned to the other

two. "It confuses me even more. Sharkey wants us to get him a thief?"

His chums only shrugged.

"Well, whatever!" He steamed. "That's not our problem. What's

most

important now is to get our hands on that wretched little thief. And

for the last time, woman, I'm asking you, where is he staying?!"

The woman couldn't escape this time. Faintly she pointed out the room

where the hobbit was kept

"I --- I can go now, can't I?" She trembled. To her surprise, the

three of them roared with laughter.

"How can we do that, let you go?! You must be an utter fool!"

Before she could do anything, a man had stepped behind her and

brutally slid his dagger along her throat.

TBC