Chapter 26 - Ringspell
"Put it on, dear hobbit," goaded the ring. "Do not be hesitant. You
said you wanted to conquer the world of - what? Ah, right. The world
of the farmers. So, listen to my words. Put the ring on your finger.
Now."
Gently, the ring persuaded Pippin. It purred and cooed to the young
hobbit to have its will granted. The ring certain had no intentions
of helping Pip. It just ached to be visible to the Nazgul. It
yearned for its master, Sauron, and promised the world to convince
the simple hobbit to slip the ring on his diminutive finger.
All the ring needed to do was make sure Pippin had it on his tiny
finger, and the rest would be taken care of.
Pippin caressed the ring gently.
"So, this is how it works, just put it on?" asked Pippin in his
small voice.
"Exactly."
"And I will turn into the farmers' lord?"
"Even before you realize it!"
Pip kept on rubbing the gold band.
"All right."
The ring almost cheered happily, but -
"But maybe later," said Pippin calmly. "Wait until we reach the
Shire. There are not too many farmers here."
The ring was silenced. It had been able to influence a mighty man
such as Isildur so easily; yet, it couldn't beat this foolishly
innocent creature. Shame, shame!
"Why should you wait?" The ring gave another try. "Just put on the
ring around your finger while we are here. You'll be in the Shire in
an instant!"
Pip couldn't hold back his laughter.
"What do you think I am? A wizard? I don't have a flying broom to
take me there!"
The ring almost choked with amazement. Now, how could it respond to
that? This hobbit was ridiculous, but he was not bending.
Impatiently, the ring tried and tried. Pippin finally got upset. He
snapped.
"Quiet! Who is the master here? I own you, you know! It is up to me
when and where I decide to put you on!"
The ring recoiled. It had never guessed that this new master who
looked so childish and frail could behave as if he were the most
powerful man in the Middle Earth. Or had he already become one?
In the end, the ring decided to seduce Pip later, when his
corruption was more complete. That the hobbit loved to touch and
fondle the ring was in itself encouraging.
Pippin curled up and started to hum, completely ignoring his
surroundings. He didn't realize that there were stares coming from
two big folks.
"He's been there for almost two days. I don't know who he is. I
mean, I know some hobbit families here in Bree, the respectable
ones. And he is not one of their children," mumbled one of them.
They were standing not far from the ditch where Pippin was lying.
The other one shook his head.
"I pity him. He looks like someone who comes from a respectable
family, too. If only he were less filthy."
"You're right. But I think he's mad. He talks to himself all the
time! And he's holding something. I wonder what it is."
"Want to check it out?"
*****
Saruman didn't let Frodo rest longer. He shook the hobbit's body to
awaken him. Then he slowly slipped a length of knotted rope through
Frodo's head and tightened it around the neck, not too tightly so
that it wouldn't suffocate him.
Frodo started and tried to pull it free. He failed. The twisted
wizard had his hands secured behind his back. The fair hobbit looked
at the man wearily. His eyes began to get glassy. His head was still
hurt from the previous impact. He fought hard not to cry.
"Would you please take this off?" He moved his head to show what he
meant. "I'll take you wherever you want, but I can't! I really
can't! I didn't want to at first but I realize now that I don't know
where Merry is. I was unconscious when you took me away." Frodo
searched for Ted. The man was standing a bit far.
Ted looked confused. He pitied this soft-looking halfling who seemed
to be always in trouble. But it was impossible to help him. Saruman
was too powerful. He wondered what would happen to him if he decided
to go astray.
Frodo realized that, too. Therefore he no longer begged openly. He
just sent a silent plea through his dazed eyes.
"I can't be more useful to you," added Frodo to Saruman. "I am
without my ring and I don't know where it is." If Saruman wanted to
kill him, so be it. He was exhausted, physically and mentally.
"Oh, why are you so sad, Frodo Baggins?" Saruman asked
mockingly. "You might be useless in that case -but you very well
might not. At any rate, I can still see why I opt to keep you,
Gandalf's dearest and priceless friend. He will do anything to get
you back."
Frodo squeezed his eyes shut. Gandalf's friend? Another lie. But he
didn't say anything.
Saruman tugged the rope, dragging Frodo up. Ted helped mount Frodo
to Saruman's horse and coiled the rope to the saddle's horn,
preventing Frodo from jumping down from the beast.
The horse neighed softly when Saruman jumped on its back. Ted was
on his own horse in an instant.
Saruman reached out for the reign and steered it, turning back in
Bree's direction. The wizard now knew that he would find the ring
there.
***
Sam looked at Strider in despair.
"He lost the ring. I couldn't care less about it, though." Sam
sighed. "It is Mr. Frodo that I worry about."
Merry's twisted lips that were once full of rage turned into a grin.
"You still don't get it, do you, Sam? Frodo does not care about you
anymore!" Merry turned his gaze to Strider. "And he could care
less about you-Ranger! Frodo only mentioned you after one of his
more difficult.lessons."
Sam was upon the bound hobbit like a hawk in for the kill. He
pulled Merry up by the collar and glared at him with fiery rage.
"What..lessons, Devil! What did you do to Frodo?"
Merry grinned widely-but it was a grin laced with blackened cruel
mirth. He may have been bound, but he was back in control.
Strider was quickly losing patience.
"Speak, Halfling! This is not a game we will play. If you haven't
yet noticed, you have no power over us!"
Though Strider spoke the words with authority, he instantly knew
them to be untrue. One look at the anguish that flooded Sam's face
told him as much. Merry had faithful Sam wrapped around his every
word. Strider has a sinking feeling that the next part of
this "conversation" would not be pretty. And he was terribly right.
"YOUR Frodo?" laughed Merry darkly. "Your Frodo thinks you are
dead. Your Frodo belongs to ME now. If YOUR FRODO were here right
now, he would come, begging and pleading to ME, with his child-like
eyes, his submissive posture. He's my little pet now. Did you know
he worships me-Sam? He thinks I am his ONLY friend!"
"LIAR!" yelled Sam with a voice so loud it echoed through the
trees. "You betrayed him terribly. Why should he make a friend out
of the likes o' you?"
Strider bit down hard on his lip trying to suppress his fury. If
Sam were without a clue, Strider was not. The Ranger understood
that that there were ways in which a person might be broken and
reconstructed. The idea that this might have been done to poor
Frodo made him nearly mindless with anger. Strider dreaded what was
coming, and hoped beyond hope that Sam would just ask Merry to be
silent.
"Oh, Sam, chased Merry. "It wasn't hard. At first, of course, he
was very angry and wholly uncooperative. Even attacked me, he did,
when I took the ring from him. A strong punch he gave, right
here." Merry pointed to his slightly bluish jaw. "And at that
time, I don't think he really saw me as his friend."
Sam smiled a little. "You earned that punch, Mr. Merry! Good ol'
Mr. Frodo! He knows a snake when `e sees it! Look, here, Merry-
Frodo doesn't see you as his friend!"
Sam was so jubilant over the thought of Frodo socking Merry that he
relaxed his hold on the smirking hobbit and let him slide back to
the ground with a thud. But Merry was not done. He sat himself up
upon his elbows to deliver the last crushing emotional blow.
Strider's face darkened.
"Oh, Sam! But he DOES. He does now. You see, you did not let me
finish my tale." Merry was almost gleeful now. He has the stocky
hobbit's full and undivided attention. Unbeknownst to him, he also
had the ranger's.
"After that show of .petulance, Pippin and I decided Frodo needed to
be restrained. And, Sam-it was till two against one, and of course,
the ring gave me that extra little.(Merry struggled for the perfect
word)..boost. So bound up your master in a sheet and tied him to
the bed so that we could go out for a well deserved pint-o-ale and
so Frodo could have the time to think about his misbehavior without
the distraction of his senses."
"YOU DEVILS!" exclaimed Sam, as he grasped Merry by the collar
again.
"But somehow, dear Sam, your master managed to escape."
Plunk! Sam dropped Merry, overcome with emotion.
"Frodo escaped! He's free? Where---?"
"No worries, faithful Sam!" continued Merry, clearly enjoying the
tug he had on Sam's fragile emotional state. "We found him
wandering about Bree, missing the sheet, but still bound. I suppose
he was searching for you."
Tears welled up in Sam's eyes as he envisioned his dear Frodo, cold,
tied, calling out his name, alone, and scared. If only he had
known!!!
"But you didn't see him, did you SAM?" stabbed Merry.
Sam began sobbing. HE was so devastated, he forgot to be enraged.
"So he came back under our gentle care. We gave him refreshing tea
with some special ingredients to help your poor master relax and get
some sleep."
Strider translated. "You drugged him."
"If you must put it like that-yes, I suppose so," chirped
Merry. "And we felt so underappreciated that we felt it best to put
Frodo somewhere where he might, in time come to better appreciate
us. So we housed him away from us in a dark barn outside of town.
Only a few days without food in a pitch dark cellar did the trick!
He called for us, Frodo. He came back to us as if we were candy.
And seeing him subdued, we were kind, very Kind."
If Sam was befuddled, Strider was not. Sam remained silent, taking
in every sentence. Striders fists began ton involuntarily clinch.
"We sat him down and spoon fed him applesauce, gave him all the
water he could drink. And he thanked us, Sam. He thanked me with
eyes that looked like those of a newly-adopted puppy. In that
moment he saw me as not only a friend, but as a loving guardian!"
"But he couldn't Merry!" exclaimed Sam in disbelief. "You were the
one that starved him-that put him in that cruel barn!"
"Poor naïve Sam. You still don't get it. I broke him. And when he
still refused to tell me about the ring, I broke Frodo some more. I
bound him to the chair so he couldn't move an inch, and blindfolded
him, and from there led his mind in new and more useful directions.
By the time I was done with that lesson, Sam, he was so broken he
asked me to kill him, but I didn't, dear Sam. No-I took off the
blindfold, kissed him, cajoled him, and asked only that he see me as
a friend. But he was not yet utterly broken. Do you know whose
name he called, Samwise? Can you guess?"
Sam's eyes were big as saucers. Tears streamed down. He did not
answer.
"Yours. He called your name, Sam."
Sam's breath hitched. And the tears kept falling. His expression
bounced between horror and unrestrained joy.
"But I couldn't have that, Sam. I needed him to tell me the secret
of my new precious possession, and I knew he would not unless he was
totally, completely mine. I needed him to see me, not YOU as his
everything. So every time he called out your name, Sam-and he
called it out A LOT, I took my belt and thrashed his legs. `Sam!
Sam! Sam!' Merry imitated in a mocking voice."
Sam could barely breathe through his anguish. Merry continued
triumphantly.
"He called your name so many times. I had to thrash his legs until
they bled and bled and until he lost his grip on consciousness and
blacked out. And when he awoke, he was utterly mine! He loved only
me, his only friend. We took him in our arms then, Sam, and tried
to feed him, as he sobbed and sobbed like a child. All thoughts of
you, his dear Sam, were utterly banished. To Frodo, Sam, you are
literally dead and- "
Merry did not have the opportunity to finish his thought, as a pair
of large hands fastened around his shirt collar.
Strider had tried to be patient but he couldn't stand it anymore.
He had fought a battle with his own fury and had lost. He grabbed
the crumpled heap up, held Merry in place with his left hand, and
struck him hard on the face with his right hand. At first Merry
didn't feel anything on his cheek. He just felt sore all over his
neck when his head was snapped to the right. But then the feeling
came. Merry felt as if his left cheek were burning. Strider had
slapped him with all his might.
Now Merry almost couldn't stand the stinging pain. He sobbed. It was
worsened by his inability to rub his cheek to lessen the hurt, not
with his hands still tied behind his back.
Strider's anger had not been totally quenched yet. He raised his
right hand again. Merry went rigid to see it coming to him. And it
did. Strider blew at exactly the same place as before, Merry's left
cheek. The yet unhealed burn from the first strike cracked for the
second time.
Merry whimpered through his bleeding lips. He shivered. It was hard
to tell that he was the same hobbit who had uttered the evil,
mindless words about Sam's beloved master, Frodo. The blows degraded
him to the lowest level of humanity. Sam could no longer see the
pride in his eyes. Sam could only spot Merry, his old Mr. Merry,
pained and broken, in his companion's hands.
What would become of him later on, Sam thought.
"Who has the ring now?" he demanded.
Merry looked down and mumbled, "Pippin."
Sam heaved disappointedly. And where was Pippin? That made the
matters more complex. Were they going to look for Pippin with the
ring, or Frodo? Thinking about his master again, Sam began to cry.
TBC
"Put it on, dear hobbit," goaded the ring. "Do not be hesitant. You
said you wanted to conquer the world of - what? Ah, right. The world
of the farmers. So, listen to my words. Put the ring on your finger.
Now."
Gently, the ring persuaded Pippin. It purred and cooed to the young
hobbit to have its will granted. The ring certain had no intentions
of helping Pip. It just ached to be visible to the Nazgul. It
yearned for its master, Sauron, and promised the world to convince
the simple hobbit to slip the ring on his diminutive finger.
All the ring needed to do was make sure Pippin had it on his tiny
finger, and the rest would be taken care of.
Pippin caressed the ring gently.
"So, this is how it works, just put it on?" asked Pippin in his
small voice.
"Exactly."
"And I will turn into the farmers' lord?"
"Even before you realize it!"
Pip kept on rubbing the gold band.
"All right."
The ring almost cheered happily, but -
"But maybe later," said Pippin calmly. "Wait until we reach the
Shire. There are not too many farmers here."
The ring was silenced. It had been able to influence a mighty man
such as Isildur so easily; yet, it couldn't beat this foolishly
innocent creature. Shame, shame!
"Why should you wait?" The ring gave another try. "Just put on the
ring around your finger while we are here. You'll be in the Shire in
an instant!"
Pip couldn't hold back his laughter.
"What do you think I am? A wizard? I don't have a flying broom to
take me there!"
The ring almost choked with amazement. Now, how could it respond to
that? This hobbit was ridiculous, but he was not bending.
Impatiently, the ring tried and tried. Pippin finally got upset. He
snapped.
"Quiet! Who is the master here? I own you, you know! It is up to me
when and where I decide to put you on!"
The ring recoiled. It had never guessed that this new master who
looked so childish and frail could behave as if he were the most
powerful man in the Middle Earth. Or had he already become one?
In the end, the ring decided to seduce Pip later, when his
corruption was more complete. That the hobbit loved to touch and
fondle the ring was in itself encouraging.
Pippin curled up and started to hum, completely ignoring his
surroundings. He didn't realize that there were stares coming from
two big folks.
"He's been there for almost two days. I don't know who he is. I
mean, I know some hobbit families here in Bree, the respectable
ones. And he is not one of their children," mumbled one of them.
They were standing not far from the ditch where Pippin was lying.
The other one shook his head.
"I pity him. He looks like someone who comes from a respectable
family, too. If only he were less filthy."
"You're right. But I think he's mad. He talks to himself all the
time! And he's holding something. I wonder what it is."
"Want to check it out?"
*****
Saruman didn't let Frodo rest longer. He shook the hobbit's body to
awaken him. Then he slowly slipped a length of knotted rope through
Frodo's head and tightened it around the neck, not too tightly so
that it wouldn't suffocate him.
Frodo started and tried to pull it free. He failed. The twisted
wizard had his hands secured behind his back. The fair hobbit looked
at the man wearily. His eyes began to get glassy. His head was still
hurt from the previous impact. He fought hard not to cry.
"Would you please take this off?" He moved his head to show what he
meant. "I'll take you wherever you want, but I can't! I really
can't! I didn't want to at first but I realize now that I don't know
where Merry is. I was unconscious when you took me away." Frodo
searched for Ted. The man was standing a bit far.
Ted looked confused. He pitied this soft-looking halfling who seemed
to be always in trouble. But it was impossible to help him. Saruman
was too powerful. He wondered what would happen to him if he decided
to go astray.
Frodo realized that, too. Therefore he no longer begged openly. He
just sent a silent plea through his dazed eyes.
"I can't be more useful to you," added Frodo to Saruman. "I am
without my ring and I don't know where it is." If Saruman wanted to
kill him, so be it. He was exhausted, physically and mentally.
"Oh, why are you so sad, Frodo Baggins?" Saruman asked
mockingly. "You might be useless in that case -but you very well
might not. At any rate, I can still see why I opt to keep you,
Gandalf's dearest and priceless friend. He will do anything to get
you back."
Frodo squeezed his eyes shut. Gandalf's friend? Another lie. But he
didn't say anything.
Saruman tugged the rope, dragging Frodo up. Ted helped mount Frodo
to Saruman's horse and coiled the rope to the saddle's horn,
preventing Frodo from jumping down from the beast.
The horse neighed softly when Saruman jumped on its back. Ted was
on his own horse in an instant.
Saruman reached out for the reign and steered it, turning back in
Bree's direction. The wizard now knew that he would find the ring
there.
***
Sam looked at Strider in despair.
"He lost the ring. I couldn't care less about it, though." Sam
sighed. "It is Mr. Frodo that I worry about."
Merry's twisted lips that were once full of rage turned into a grin.
"You still don't get it, do you, Sam? Frodo does not care about you
anymore!" Merry turned his gaze to Strider. "And he could care
less about you-Ranger! Frodo only mentioned you after one of his
more difficult.lessons."
Sam was upon the bound hobbit like a hawk in for the kill. He
pulled Merry up by the collar and glared at him with fiery rage.
"What..lessons, Devil! What did you do to Frodo?"
Merry grinned widely-but it was a grin laced with blackened cruel
mirth. He may have been bound, but he was back in control.
Strider was quickly losing patience.
"Speak, Halfling! This is not a game we will play. If you haven't
yet noticed, you have no power over us!"
Though Strider spoke the words with authority, he instantly knew
them to be untrue. One look at the anguish that flooded Sam's face
told him as much. Merry had faithful Sam wrapped around his every
word. Strider has a sinking feeling that the next part of
this "conversation" would not be pretty. And he was terribly right.
"YOUR Frodo?" laughed Merry darkly. "Your Frodo thinks you are
dead. Your Frodo belongs to ME now. If YOUR FRODO were here right
now, he would come, begging and pleading to ME, with his child-like
eyes, his submissive posture. He's my little pet now. Did you know
he worships me-Sam? He thinks I am his ONLY friend!"
"LIAR!" yelled Sam with a voice so loud it echoed through the
trees. "You betrayed him terribly. Why should he make a friend out
of the likes o' you?"
Strider bit down hard on his lip trying to suppress his fury. If
Sam were without a clue, Strider was not. The Ranger understood
that that there were ways in which a person might be broken and
reconstructed. The idea that this might have been done to poor
Frodo made him nearly mindless with anger. Strider dreaded what was
coming, and hoped beyond hope that Sam would just ask Merry to be
silent.
"Oh, Sam, chased Merry. "It wasn't hard. At first, of course, he
was very angry and wholly uncooperative. Even attacked me, he did,
when I took the ring from him. A strong punch he gave, right
here." Merry pointed to his slightly bluish jaw. "And at that
time, I don't think he really saw me as his friend."
Sam smiled a little. "You earned that punch, Mr. Merry! Good ol'
Mr. Frodo! He knows a snake when `e sees it! Look, here, Merry-
Frodo doesn't see you as his friend!"
Sam was so jubilant over the thought of Frodo socking Merry that he
relaxed his hold on the smirking hobbit and let him slide back to
the ground with a thud. But Merry was not done. He sat himself up
upon his elbows to deliver the last crushing emotional blow.
Strider's face darkened.
"Oh, Sam! But he DOES. He does now. You see, you did not let me
finish my tale." Merry was almost gleeful now. He has the stocky
hobbit's full and undivided attention. Unbeknownst to him, he also
had the ranger's.
"After that show of .petulance, Pippin and I decided Frodo needed to
be restrained. And, Sam-it was till two against one, and of course,
the ring gave me that extra little.(Merry struggled for the perfect
word)..boost. So bound up your master in a sheet and tied him to
the bed so that we could go out for a well deserved pint-o-ale and
so Frodo could have the time to think about his misbehavior without
the distraction of his senses."
"YOU DEVILS!" exclaimed Sam, as he grasped Merry by the collar
again.
"But somehow, dear Sam, your master managed to escape."
Plunk! Sam dropped Merry, overcome with emotion.
"Frodo escaped! He's free? Where---?"
"No worries, faithful Sam!" continued Merry, clearly enjoying the
tug he had on Sam's fragile emotional state. "We found him
wandering about Bree, missing the sheet, but still bound. I suppose
he was searching for you."
Tears welled up in Sam's eyes as he envisioned his dear Frodo, cold,
tied, calling out his name, alone, and scared. If only he had
known!!!
"But you didn't see him, did you SAM?" stabbed Merry.
Sam began sobbing. HE was so devastated, he forgot to be enraged.
"So he came back under our gentle care. We gave him refreshing tea
with some special ingredients to help your poor master relax and get
some sleep."
Strider translated. "You drugged him."
"If you must put it like that-yes, I suppose so," chirped
Merry. "And we felt so underappreciated that we felt it best to put
Frodo somewhere where he might, in time come to better appreciate
us. So we housed him away from us in a dark barn outside of town.
Only a few days without food in a pitch dark cellar did the trick!
He called for us, Frodo. He came back to us as if we were candy.
And seeing him subdued, we were kind, very Kind."
If Sam was befuddled, Strider was not. Sam remained silent, taking
in every sentence. Striders fists began ton involuntarily clinch.
"We sat him down and spoon fed him applesauce, gave him all the
water he could drink. And he thanked us, Sam. He thanked me with
eyes that looked like those of a newly-adopted puppy. In that
moment he saw me as not only a friend, but as a loving guardian!"
"But he couldn't Merry!" exclaimed Sam in disbelief. "You were the
one that starved him-that put him in that cruel barn!"
"Poor naïve Sam. You still don't get it. I broke him. And when he
still refused to tell me about the ring, I broke Frodo some more. I
bound him to the chair so he couldn't move an inch, and blindfolded
him, and from there led his mind in new and more useful directions.
By the time I was done with that lesson, Sam, he was so broken he
asked me to kill him, but I didn't, dear Sam. No-I took off the
blindfold, kissed him, cajoled him, and asked only that he see me as
a friend. But he was not yet utterly broken. Do you know whose
name he called, Samwise? Can you guess?"
Sam's eyes were big as saucers. Tears streamed down. He did not
answer.
"Yours. He called your name, Sam."
Sam's breath hitched. And the tears kept falling. His expression
bounced between horror and unrestrained joy.
"But I couldn't have that, Sam. I needed him to tell me the secret
of my new precious possession, and I knew he would not unless he was
totally, completely mine. I needed him to see me, not YOU as his
everything. So every time he called out your name, Sam-and he
called it out A LOT, I took my belt and thrashed his legs. `Sam!
Sam! Sam!' Merry imitated in a mocking voice."
Sam could barely breathe through his anguish. Merry continued
triumphantly.
"He called your name so many times. I had to thrash his legs until
they bled and bled and until he lost his grip on consciousness and
blacked out. And when he awoke, he was utterly mine! He loved only
me, his only friend. We took him in our arms then, Sam, and tried
to feed him, as he sobbed and sobbed like a child. All thoughts of
you, his dear Sam, were utterly banished. To Frodo, Sam, you are
literally dead and- "
Merry did not have the opportunity to finish his thought, as a pair
of large hands fastened around his shirt collar.
Strider had tried to be patient but he couldn't stand it anymore.
He had fought a battle with his own fury and had lost. He grabbed
the crumpled heap up, held Merry in place with his left hand, and
struck him hard on the face with his right hand. At first Merry
didn't feel anything on his cheek. He just felt sore all over his
neck when his head was snapped to the right. But then the feeling
came. Merry felt as if his left cheek were burning. Strider had
slapped him with all his might.
Now Merry almost couldn't stand the stinging pain. He sobbed. It was
worsened by his inability to rub his cheek to lessen the hurt, not
with his hands still tied behind his back.
Strider's anger had not been totally quenched yet. He raised his
right hand again. Merry went rigid to see it coming to him. And it
did. Strider blew at exactly the same place as before, Merry's left
cheek. The yet unhealed burn from the first strike cracked for the
second time.
Merry whimpered through his bleeding lips. He shivered. It was hard
to tell that he was the same hobbit who had uttered the evil,
mindless words about Sam's beloved master, Frodo. The blows degraded
him to the lowest level of humanity. Sam could no longer see the
pride in his eyes. Sam could only spot Merry, his old Mr. Merry,
pained and broken, in his companion's hands.
What would become of him later on, Sam thought.
"Who has the ring now?" he demanded.
Merry looked down and mumbled, "Pippin."
Sam heaved disappointedly. And where was Pippin? That made the
matters more complex. Were they going to look for Pippin with the
ring, or Frodo? Thinking about his master again, Sam began to cry.
TBC
