Author's Note: Thanks again to all who reviewed!
Gamgeefest: I think the reason Jalan was willing to help the Hobbits and his father was not was that Jalan was still young and idealistic. He had firm beliefs on the matter of honor and bravery and as far as he was concerned, the Black Wizard did not embody these trains. His father was a seasoned warrior and stood firmly in Sauron's camp. He may have hated The Mouth of Sauron, but he was a realist and knew where his loyalties lay. I also suspect that Easterling soldiers didn't spend much time at home, so perhaps he didn't have a strong relationship with his family.
Welcome to FrodoBaggins87, Iridia, and laurajslr. Thank you for reviewing!
Chapter 14 Over the River and Through the Woods
The four hobbits were together again and for the first time since the very start of their journey from the Shire, they were on their own. They stared down at the rushing water. Frodo glanced worriedly at Sam leaning against the wall beside him, eyes closed. Merry bent down to look at the casks and cried out in surprise when he found a length of rope neatly coiled beside them. "We can use this to lash a couple of these casks together," he said with excitement. "That way, we're less likely to lose each other." He looked meaningfully at Sam. Unless someone could stay close to him, it was unlikely Sam would make it past the first few yards.
Sam could hear the others begin to lash the casks together. He slowly sank down onto a boulder, still leaning against the damp cave wall. He opened his swollen eyes as well as he could and studied the river. He knew he hadn't the strength to travel far through that. He had no doubt he would not make it out of these caverns alive. Still, he would rather die in a river with friends, than at the hands of that villain in the cave. He just hoped the others would make it out alright. He still felt responsible for their being here. But, there was nothing to be done about it now. He gave a faint smile. At least he was able to see his beloved Master again, even if just for a short time.
The other three Hobbits worked quickly, when Pippin suddenly froze. "Listen!" he hissed. They all stopped what they were doing, straining to hear. They could make out a harsh voice shouting from somewhere behind them. It sounded furious. The Hobbits stared at each other in panic. Had their escape been discovered?
"Sam?" The injured Hobbit looked up blearily to see Frodo standing anxiously before him, his eyes clouded with concern. "Are you ready? We must hurry!" Sam nodded and with Frodo's help, struggled to his feet. Merry had two casks tied together, the rope providing a handhold for the Hobbits. Sam only had one good hand, so Merry and Frodo quickly helped him weave that arm through the rope around one cask. Frodo fastened himself to the other. Merry and Pippin hurriedly lifted the other two and soon they too were ready.
Frodo and Sam looked grimly at one another, then, on the count of three, they jumped. The water was bitterly cold and Frodo felt his breath knocked from him. Looking over, he saw Sam's eyes wide with fear and shock, but the valiant Hobbit was holding fast. Frodo struggled to move closer to Sam, holding onto him with one hand, while the other maintained a firm grip on the rope. The small barrels did at least help to keep their heads above the water. A splash behind told Frodo that Pippin and Merry had joined them.
No sooner had the current seized them and began moving the casks along, than the Hobbits spied a light bobbing along the ledge behind them. Loud shouts and the sound of pounding feet followed them down the river. Now there was no doubt they had been discovered! Further ahead, Frodo saw the ledge ended and the swirling river disappeared into a dark hole. If they could reach that, they would be safe from their pursuers. A hiss sounded near his ear and with alarm, he saw the shaft of an arrow quivering in the side of his cask. They were under attack!
"Merry! Pippin!" he cried, frantically trying to see his cousins in the darkness, "They're shooting at us!" More arrows hissed by, disappearing into the churning waters around them. Sam was silent, but still grimly hanging on. Frodo saw with relief that they had almost reached the break in the wall when he heard a sharp cry of pain from somewhere behind him. "Merry!" he cried again and then he and Sam were abruptly sucked into the black void.
The trip down the underground river was a nightmare none of them would soon forget. They traveled in total darkness and the frigid water sapped at their strength. They had no way of knowing what was ahead and they were often battered by rocks and boulders they could not see. Sometimes the ceiling of the river's channel was so low, the Hobbits's heads would smash painfully against it. In such places, it was difficult to breathe. Fortunately, the casks helped provide some protection, but none escaped unscathed. Sam suffered most of all. In general, Hobbits do not care for water, and Sam feared it more than most.. Fighting both panic and pain, it was all he could do to remain conscious. Frodo constantly called encouragement to him and Sam held onto those words like a lifeline. He was shivering violently, but the freezing water did have the benefit of gradually numbing his pain. In fact, he could hardly feel his limbs at all.
Frodo worried about his cousins somewhere behind them. Had one of them been hit? The roar of the swiftly moving river masked all other sound and Frodo had no idea where Merry and Pippin were. Most of his attention was focused on keeping himself and Sam alive. Several times Sam had slipped beneath the surface of the water and it was all Frodo could do to haul him back up. The casks had a tendency to roll, so it was a constant battle to keep from being pulled under. Like Sam, the freezing water was numbing his limbs and it was becoming harder and harder to maintain his hold on his friend, but he would not give up! He just prayed the river would come to an end before his strength did.
How long they traveled like this, Frodo could not tell. But after what seemed like an eternity, he began to detect a slight change in the darkness. He was so exhausted and cold, at first he thought he must be hallucinating, but he gradually realized he was able to make out Sam's figure floating beside him. Frodo lifted his head and peered ahead. He felt his heart leap as he realized the river appeared to be coming to an exit. A grayish light illuminated the river ahead. "Hold on, Sam," he murmured yet again. Sam had made no sound for some time and Frodo feared for him. If only they could get out of this freezing water.
Finally, they were carried out of the tunnel and with a cry of joy, Frodo stared at the early morning sky above. Had it only been one night since they entered the mountain? It seemed more like a week! He began looking for a possible landing place. Once out of the mountain, the river spread out on the flat plain and became shallower and slower. Using his remaining strength, Frodo kicked out and slowly propelled the casks toward the shore. He felt his feet touch ground and he desperately pulled Sam through the reeds towards dry land. As soon as he was sure they were safely ashore, he untied them from the casks. Panting from the exertion, he turned to Sam, dismayed at his friend's gray, haggard face and labored breathing. He was so cold and the air barely felt warmer than the water. Sam needed warmth and soon.
Frodo then looked back at the river. Where were Pippin and Merry? He stood for some minutes intently watching the flowing river searching for his cousins. There! He saw a form emerge from the yawning mouth of the river's exit and as it neared, he could see it was the casks with two Hobbits still attached. Frodo eagerly waded into the river, splashing towards them. "Merry! Pippin!" he cried excitedly. He saw one of the Hobbits wave weakly and slowly the casks began moving towards him. He flung himself forward into the river and reached the casks within moments. He then helped pull it towards shore.
Merry and Pippin lay heaving on the sandy shore, trying to get their breaths. As Frodo began untangling them from the ropes, he froze is dismay. A black fletched arrow stood deeply embedded in the back of Merry's shoulder, his cloak dark with blood. "Merry!" gasped Frodo, gently laying his cousin on the wet sand.
Pippin stirred beside him, slowly sitting up. He had blood on his face from a gash on his brow. There were tears in his eyes. "Is he alive?" he quavered, reaching a cold, wet hand to his cousin.
Frodo felt for Merry's pulse. Yes, there it was, weak, but steady. Frodo turned to Pippin. "We must get a fire going," he said urgently helping an unsteady Pippin to his feet. "Sam is in a bad way as well and if we don't get them warm, I'm not sure either one will make it!"
Pippin nodded and began to survey their surroundings. A small copse of trees stood about a hundred yards further along the river bank. "There!" he said pointing. "We should find some wood and shelter."
Frodo agreed and turned back to look at Sam and Merry. "We'll have to take them one at a time," he said worriedly. "I don't like leaving either one alone, but I don't think I have the strength to carry Sam or Merry by myself." So saying, he knelt and gently lifted Merry's left arm and placed it over his shoulder. Pippin quickly took the other. With one last uncertain look at Sam, the two lugged Merry off to the safety of the trees.
The copse was bigger than it first appeared and they were able to find a well protected place in amongst the roots of a large tree. After gently settling Merry as comfortably as they could, Pippin took off his cloak and carefully laid it over his cousin, figuring even wet, it would help provide some protection. They then hurried back to where they had left Sam and a short time later had him safely beside Merry.
Pippin began to gather wood for a fire while Frodo took a closer look at Merry. With a queasy feeling, he realized that as deeply as the arrow was imbedded in Merry's shoulder, the only way for him to remove it was to push it through to the other side. "I'm sorry, Merry," he whispered apprehensively taking hold of the arrow's shaft. "I hope this won't hurt you too much!" In a moment, the deed was done. Using his knife, Frodo was able to saw through the arrow's thin shaft and remove the pieces. Merry's wound bled freely now. Frodo ripped off a portion of his shirt and bound the wound as best he could. He turned and saw Pippin white-faced behind him, his arms full of wood.
"Will he be all right?" Pippin asked hesitantly laying the wood down beside them.
Frodo sighed, looking down at Merry's pale face. "I don't know, Pippin," he replied. "If he doesn't lose too much blood or develop an infection, I think he has a good chance." He glanced at Sam's motionless form. "Sam is better at this sort of thing than I am."
They soon had a fire going and both sighed in relief as the warmth of the flames chased away the deep chill of the water. They moved the two invalids as close as they dared, hoping the heat would help revive them.
Pippin stared morosely into the crackling fire. "What are we going to do, Frodo?" he finally asked quietly. "Do you even have idea of where we are?"
Frodo thought hard about this. He had a vague idea of where the Sea of Rhun was located. North of Mordor was about all he could remember. If they could head southwest, that would at least take them in the direction of Minas Tirith. He was about to reply to Pippin's question when he was startled by a loud, piercing scream.
Leaping to his feet, he ran to edge of the woods and peered upwards into the sky. It was an eagle! He almost ran out to signal it, when Pippin grabbed his arm. "Look!" he cried. It was then that Frodo noticed this eagle looked different from the ones that had come to the army's aid at the Black Gate. This one was bigger and solid black as was his rider. The two Hobbits looked at each other, then wordlessly shrank back into the cover of the trees. They ran to the fire and quickly smothered it with dirt. However, they suspected they were too late. It would appear that the Black Wizard had found them already.
Gamgeefest: I think the reason Jalan was willing to help the Hobbits and his father was not was that Jalan was still young and idealistic. He had firm beliefs on the matter of honor and bravery and as far as he was concerned, the Black Wizard did not embody these trains. His father was a seasoned warrior and stood firmly in Sauron's camp. He may have hated The Mouth of Sauron, but he was a realist and knew where his loyalties lay. I also suspect that Easterling soldiers didn't spend much time at home, so perhaps he didn't have a strong relationship with his family.
Welcome to FrodoBaggins87, Iridia, and laurajslr. Thank you for reviewing!
Chapter 14 Over the River and Through the Woods
The four hobbits were together again and for the first time since the very start of their journey from the Shire, they were on their own. They stared down at the rushing water. Frodo glanced worriedly at Sam leaning against the wall beside him, eyes closed. Merry bent down to look at the casks and cried out in surprise when he found a length of rope neatly coiled beside them. "We can use this to lash a couple of these casks together," he said with excitement. "That way, we're less likely to lose each other." He looked meaningfully at Sam. Unless someone could stay close to him, it was unlikely Sam would make it past the first few yards.
Sam could hear the others begin to lash the casks together. He slowly sank down onto a boulder, still leaning against the damp cave wall. He opened his swollen eyes as well as he could and studied the river. He knew he hadn't the strength to travel far through that. He had no doubt he would not make it out of these caverns alive. Still, he would rather die in a river with friends, than at the hands of that villain in the cave. He just hoped the others would make it out alright. He still felt responsible for their being here. But, there was nothing to be done about it now. He gave a faint smile. At least he was able to see his beloved Master again, even if just for a short time.
The other three Hobbits worked quickly, when Pippin suddenly froze. "Listen!" he hissed. They all stopped what they were doing, straining to hear. They could make out a harsh voice shouting from somewhere behind them. It sounded furious. The Hobbits stared at each other in panic. Had their escape been discovered?
"Sam?" The injured Hobbit looked up blearily to see Frodo standing anxiously before him, his eyes clouded with concern. "Are you ready? We must hurry!" Sam nodded and with Frodo's help, struggled to his feet. Merry had two casks tied together, the rope providing a handhold for the Hobbits. Sam only had one good hand, so Merry and Frodo quickly helped him weave that arm through the rope around one cask. Frodo fastened himself to the other. Merry and Pippin hurriedly lifted the other two and soon they too were ready.
Frodo and Sam looked grimly at one another, then, on the count of three, they jumped. The water was bitterly cold and Frodo felt his breath knocked from him. Looking over, he saw Sam's eyes wide with fear and shock, but the valiant Hobbit was holding fast. Frodo struggled to move closer to Sam, holding onto him with one hand, while the other maintained a firm grip on the rope. The small barrels did at least help to keep their heads above the water. A splash behind told Frodo that Pippin and Merry had joined them.
No sooner had the current seized them and began moving the casks along, than the Hobbits spied a light bobbing along the ledge behind them. Loud shouts and the sound of pounding feet followed them down the river. Now there was no doubt they had been discovered! Further ahead, Frodo saw the ledge ended and the swirling river disappeared into a dark hole. If they could reach that, they would be safe from their pursuers. A hiss sounded near his ear and with alarm, he saw the shaft of an arrow quivering in the side of his cask. They were under attack!
"Merry! Pippin!" he cried, frantically trying to see his cousins in the darkness, "They're shooting at us!" More arrows hissed by, disappearing into the churning waters around them. Sam was silent, but still grimly hanging on. Frodo saw with relief that they had almost reached the break in the wall when he heard a sharp cry of pain from somewhere behind him. "Merry!" he cried again and then he and Sam were abruptly sucked into the black void.
The trip down the underground river was a nightmare none of them would soon forget. They traveled in total darkness and the frigid water sapped at their strength. They had no way of knowing what was ahead and they were often battered by rocks and boulders they could not see. Sometimes the ceiling of the river's channel was so low, the Hobbits's heads would smash painfully against it. In such places, it was difficult to breathe. Fortunately, the casks helped provide some protection, but none escaped unscathed. Sam suffered most of all. In general, Hobbits do not care for water, and Sam feared it more than most.. Fighting both panic and pain, it was all he could do to remain conscious. Frodo constantly called encouragement to him and Sam held onto those words like a lifeline. He was shivering violently, but the freezing water did have the benefit of gradually numbing his pain. In fact, he could hardly feel his limbs at all.
Frodo worried about his cousins somewhere behind them. Had one of them been hit? The roar of the swiftly moving river masked all other sound and Frodo had no idea where Merry and Pippin were. Most of his attention was focused on keeping himself and Sam alive. Several times Sam had slipped beneath the surface of the water and it was all Frodo could do to haul him back up. The casks had a tendency to roll, so it was a constant battle to keep from being pulled under. Like Sam, the freezing water was numbing his limbs and it was becoming harder and harder to maintain his hold on his friend, but he would not give up! He just prayed the river would come to an end before his strength did.
How long they traveled like this, Frodo could not tell. But after what seemed like an eternity, he began to detect a slight change in the darkness. He was so exhausted and cold, at first he thought he must be hallucinating, but he gradually realized he was able to make out Sam's figure floating beside him. Frodo lifted his head and peered ahead. He felt his heart leap as he realized the river appeared to be coming to an exit. A grayish light illuminated the river ahead. "Hold on, Sam," he murmured yet again. Sam had made no sound for some time and Frodo feared for him. If only they could get out of this freezing water.
Finally, they were carried out of the tunnel and with a cry of joy, Frodo stared at the early morning sky above. Had it only been one night since they entered the mountain? It seemed more like a week! He began looking for a possible landing place. Once out of the mountain, the river spread out on the flat plain and became shallower and slower. Using his remaining strength, Frodo kicked out and slowly propelled the casks toward the shore. He felt his feet touch ground and he desperately pulled Sam through the reeds towards dry land. As soon as he was sure they were safely ashore, he untied them from the casks. Panting from the exertion, he turned to Sam, dismayed at his friend's gray, haggard face and labored breathing. He was so cold and the air barely felt warmer than the water. Sam needed warmth and soon.
Frodo then looked back at the river. Where were Pippin and Merry? He stood for some minutes intently watching the flowing river searching for his cousins. There! He saw a form emerge from the yawning mouth of the river's exit and as it neared, he could see it was the casks with two Hobbits still attached. Frodo eagerly waded into the river, splashing towards them. "Merry! Pippin!" he cried excitedly. He saw one of the Hobbits wave weakly and slowly the casks began moving towards him. He flung himself forward into the river and reached the casks within moments. He then helped pull it towards shore.
Merry and Pippin lay heaving on the sandy shore, trying to get their breaths. As Frodo began untangling them from the ropes, he froze is dismay. A black fletched arrow stood deeply embedded in the back of Merry's shoulder, his cloak dark with blood. "Merry!" gasped Frodo, gently laying his cousin on the wet sand.
Pippin stirred beside him, slowly sitting up. He had blood on his face from a gash on his brow. There were tears in his eyes. "Is he alive?" he quavered, reaching a cold, wet hand to his cousin.
Frodo felt for Merry's pulse. Yes, there it was, weak, but steady. Frodo turned to Pippin. "We must get a fire going," he said urgently helping an unsteady Pippin to his feet. "Sam is in a bad way as well and if we don't get them warm, I'm not sure either one will make it!"
Pippin nodded and began to survey their surroundings. A small copse of trees stood about a hundred yards further along the river bank. "There!" he said pointing. "We should find some wood and shelter."
Frodo agreed and turned back to look at Sam and Merry. "We'll have to take them one at a time," he said worriedly. "I don't like leaving either one alone, but I don't think I have the strength to carry Sam or Merry by myself." So saying, he knelt and gently lifted Merry's left arm and placed it over his shoulder. Pippin quickly took the other. With one last uncertain look at Sam, the two lugged Merry off to the safety of the trees.
The copse was bigger than it first appeared and they were able to find a well protected place in amongst the roots of a large tree. After gently settling Merry as comfortably as they could, Pippin took off his cloak and carefully laid it over his cousin, figuring even wet, it would help provide some protection. They then hurried back to where they had left Sam and a short time later had him safely beside Merry.
Pippin began to gather wood for a fire while Frodo took a closer look at Merry. With a queasy feeling, he realized that as deeply as the arrow was imbedded in Merry's shoulder, the only way for him to remove it was to push it through to the other side. "I'm sorry, Merry," he whispered apprehensively taking hold of the arrow's shaft. "I hope this won't hurt you too much!" In a moment, the deed was done. Using his knife, Frodo was able to saw through the arrow's thin shaft and remove the pieces. Merry's wound bled freely now. Frodo ripped off a portion of his shirt and bound the wound as best he could. He turned and saw Pippin white-faced behind him, his arms full of wood.
"Will he be all right?" Pippin asked hesitantly laying the wood down beside them.
Frodo sighed, looking down at Merry's pale face. "I don't know, Pippin," he replied. "If he doesn't lose too much blood or develop an infection, I think he has a good chance." He glanced at Sam's motionless form. "Sam is better at this sort of thing than I am."
They soon had a fire going and both sighed in relief as the warmth of the flames chased away the deep chill of the water. They moved the two invalids as close as they dared, hoping the heat would help revive them.
Pippin stared morosely into the crackling fire. "What are we going to do, Frodo?" he finally asked quietly. "Do you even have idea of where we are?"
Frodo thought hard about this. He had a vague idea of where the Sea of Rhun was located. North of Mordor was about all he could remember. If they could head southwest, that would at least take them in the direction of Minas Tirith. He was about to reply to Pippin's question when he was startled by a loud, piercing scream.
Leaping to his feet, he ran to edge of the woods and peered upwards into the sky. It was an eagle! He almost ran out to signal it, when Pippin grabbed his arm. "Look!" he cried. It was then that Frodo noticed this eagle looked different from the ones that had come to the army's aid at the Black Gate. This one was bigger and solid black as was his rider. The two Hobbits looked at each other, then wordlessly shrank back into the cover of the trees. They ran to the fire and quickly smothered it with dirt. However, they suspected they were too late. It would appear that the Black Wizard had found them already.