Returning From The Dead

by Elf Eye

Another in "The Nameless One" series. Set after "Revenge."

6. A Basket In The River

Kitsune and dd9736: Thank you.  I hope you both enjoy today's update.

Ky: Please, not Mary Sues—anything but that!  ^_^

Farflung: I want to keep working with the idea of intermingled loss and gain because that seems emblematic of the conclusion of the LOTR—Frodo losing the Shire so that Middle Earth can be preserved for others.  Bilbo sacrificing his share of the treasure for others seems to anticipate the later actions of his nephew—at least that's the direction I want the story to take.

Konzen: Name starts with 'F', wears something on his finger—why, whatever gave you that idea!?   ^_^

Jebb: I like that phrase—'homage to the Hobbit'.  Thank you.

Karri: I think Tawarmaenas is being well-equipped for life in general.  The skills and attitudes Thranduil is encouraging would serve anyone well in any situation.

Joee: Finally you are going to find out how Anomen ends up in the Shire once again!

Vocabulary

Fleischer—'Butcher' (German)

Verräter—'Traitor' (German)

Anomen had been so distressed by his dream that the next morning he resolved to tell Halbarad that he was going on to the Shire with or without the blessing of the Ranger.  Of course, it would be best if he did have Halbarad's approval, so first he would seek to gain it.

"Halbarad," he began over breakfast, "it is of course necessary that someone return to Rivendell to carry word to Gandalf that the Shire may be in peril."

"Yes, but we have already agreed upon that.  I will go on to the Shire to keep watch upon the Southrons; you Elves will return to Imladris."

"We Elves be three in number.  It takes not three to carry a message, especially now, when we have done tracking the Southrons and the messengers can take to the Great East Road and travel rapidly and in relative safety."

"And your point is?" said Halbarad, the ghost of a smile flickering briefly upon his weather-beaten face.

"Elladan and Elrohir may carry the message.  I should go on with you—after all," Anomen added quickly as he saw Halbarad move to speak, "there may be as many as five of them.  What if the Southrons split up once they reach the Shire?  Not even a Dunadan can spy upon five at once!"

"Well reasoned, young one," said Halbarad dryly, "although I suspect you have a motive in addition to this noble one that you have advanced."

Anomen blushed.  "It is true," he admitted, "that I should like to see Merry and the others once again."

"I have heard the tale of how, when an elfling, you accompanied Glorfindel to Bree-land and, ah, took the initiative to go on to Buckland.  You met Merry then, is that not so?"

"Yes."

"A very long time ago, was it not?'

"Yes.  As you say, I was an elfling."

"Anomen," Halbarad said gently, "the Periannath have not the gift of immortality.  It is rare for one to approach even the lifespan of the lesser of the Dúnadain."

 Stunned, Anomen gazed at the Ranger, who looked upon him with compassion.

"You must console yourself with this thought, Anomen.  It is the way of the Periannath to die after a lifespan that would seem short even to a Man of the North.  But it is also their way to have children, many more children than Elves.  The Periannath enjoy their lives fully—their gardens and their fields and, above all, their children—and then they pass on, happy in the knowledge that other Periannath will have their opportunity to take pleasure, however brief, in Middle Earth.  Your Merry is gone, but another Merry came after him, and then another.  Even today, somewhere in the Shire a Merry frolics and looks upon Middle Earth with wonder for to him everything is but newly created.  And in time to come, yet another Merry will play truant in the fields, birds nesting and berrying.  This is the way of the mortal races, and the wise among them find joy rather than sorrow in their mortality, which for them is as much a gift as immortality is to the Elves."

Anomen nodded.

"I am glad you understand.  Let us break camp now," said Halbarad, "and I will make for the Shire, you for Rivendell."

"Halbarad."

"Yes."

"I still want to accompany you to the Shire."

"But I have said that your friend Merry has passed on."

"Yes, and you have also said that another Merry awaits me.  Also, it is still true that there may be as many as five Southrons, while you are only one Ranger.  However skillful and wise, one Dunadan cannot be in more than one place at a time—such a trick would defeat even the magic of Mithrandir!"

"Oh, I would not be sure of that," said Halbarad.  "He may have more than one means of seeing.  However, I am no wizard, and although you are stubborn, perhaps you are right.  If the Southrons split up, I will indeed be forced to follow one group, and things may go ill if I choose the wrong one.  Very well, since you are so eager to go to the Shire, and since you can make a case for your usefulness, you and I will journey on together.  I only hope Elrond is not angered!  He sent you Elves out together, and he may expect you to return together.  I should not wish to lose his good opinion."

"Our father neither lightly bestows nor revokes his good opinion," said Elladan.

Halbarad laughed.  "No, the Elves are not hasty people, least of all your father.  I shall trust to that fact.  Well, enough speech.  If words were steps, we would already be well on our way to our respective destinations."

They broke camp, and Anomen entrusted his horse to his foster-brothers.  Halbarad had been on foot, and he pointed out to Anomen that a horse was rather a large item to be concealed if they had to dodge Southrons.  As they walked along, Halbarad also warned him that this would not be a pleasure jaunt.

"When you visited Buckland with Gandalf, you went openly.  Now you come as a spy.  You cannot show yourself.  Even if you should see your 'Merry', you cannot greet him, let alone go swimming or boating with him.  Do you understand?  Perhaps more important, will you be able to obey this order?"

"Yes and yes."

"Will wonders never cease!?" said Halbarad, giving way to a full-fledged grin.  "This day will be recorded in the annals of the Third Age!"

Swiftly Anomen stooped and seized upon a dirt clod.  With the accuracy of a Halfling, he released it, hitting Halbarad on the side of the head.  Halbarad was so startled that he stumbled and fell.

"Now," Anomen laughed, "you can add another event to the annals of the Third Age: a Dunadan felled by the weapon of a Perian."

Laughing likewise, Halbarad arose and dusted himself off.

"If the Periannath are so resourceful, then mayhap some day they will fell enemies of note.  I begin to understand why Gandalf has such respect for those little folk!"

As they walked on, Anomen realized that they were no longer attempting to follow the trail of the Southrons but were veering toward the Old Forest.

"Halbarad," said the Elf, "why are we heading toward the Forest instead of following the Southrons?"

"To avoid attracting attention, Gandalf lately has been entering the Shire by entering Buckland and thence crossing the Brandywine.  I have been thinking that, if the Southrons mean to enter the Shire, they will do the same, for if they try to cross the border at the Great East Road, they would likely be questioned at the least and mayhap even turned away."

"But why not just follow them to see if they do?"

"If the Southrons do intend to enter the Shire proper, we must do more than spy; we must head them off.  I do not think Gandalf would want them to reach Hobbiton!  We must thus make our way to Buckland as quickly as we may so that one of us may watch the Bucklebury Ferry, the other the Brandywine Bridge.  Even if they do not try to cross the Brandywine, those are the places that they would head for so that they themselves may observe who secretly enters and leaves the land of the Halflings.  They would have gone to Bree if they merely wanted to gather news of those who openly enter and leave the Shire, for they could learn that information in comfort whilst nursing a pint of beer."

"We may have trouble getting through the Old Forest," Anomen warned.

"Oh, I think not," said Halbarad calmly.  I am acquainted with most of the trees.  There are some vines that are a bit malicious, and you do have to watch out for this one particular—"

"—willow tree?"

"Yes," said Halbarad.  "You are acquainted with Old Man Willow?"

"I met him when he was a bad-tempered sapling.  So he has not improved with age?"

"No, he has not," said the Ranger, shaking his head.  "If anything, his belligerence has grown over the years.  Even Gandalf has had a few run-ins with the old stick.  Indeed, he said something about his beard getting caught last time he came through.  I believe I heard him exclaim that he was on the verge of hacking it short when Tom Bombadil finally came by and told the tree off."

Anomen laughed at the thought of Gandalf with his beard in tatters.

"Do not laugh!  You may lose your braids if you tread too lightly in the Old Forest!"

Anomen immediately grew serious.  He had lost his hair too many times to the twin sons of Elrond to want to tempt fate in the form of a bad-tempered willow tree.

As it happens, however, they encountered no trouble from either tree or vine, and Halbarad quickly led Anomen to the same gate that Gandalf had used to let them into Buckland so many years earlier.  The hedge was very thick now, so it was good that Halbarad had the key to unlock the gate.

"Gandalf entrusted this key to me not so long ago and made me promise that I would make it a regular practice to check on the safety of the Shire."

Curious, thought Anomen.  Gandalf must surely have had some idea that the Shire would draw the Enemy, else he would not have extracted that pledge from Halbarad.

Halbarad and Anomen came first to the site of the Bucklebury Ferry.  They saw no sign that the Southrons had passed that way yet, so they found cover and settled in to keep watch.  As night neared, they heard the sound of hoofbeats, and soon after the Southrons rode into view.  There were three of them.  Besides their mounts, they had two packhorses.  The Haradrim stopped within earshot of Halbarad and Anomen.

"You stay here, Fleischer," said one of the Men, the leader apparently.  "Keep out of sight and take careful notice of all who enter and leave the Shire at this place.  Remember that you must particularly watch for the wizard!  If we can bring word of his doings, we will be paid well.  If we can follow him to his destination, even better!"

"We are not to try to capture him?" asked Fleischer.

"No," said the leader, shaking his head.  "I suspect the master hopes that, if we watch the wizard long enough, he will lead us to a great treasure.  After he's led us to the hoard, then mayhap we are to kill or capture him, but I have no such orders at the present."  The leader turned to the other Southron.

"Verräter, you and I will go to the Brandywine Bridge and lie in wait there."

Leaving Fleischer, his mount, and one of the packhorses, the other two Southrons rode off to the north.  After they were gone, Halbarad and Anomen slipped far enough away to safely hold a whispered conversation.

"Anomen," Halbarad said softly, "if Gandalf comes to either the bridge or the ferry, he must be warned that he is being watched.  You stay here at the ferry, and I will go on to the bridge."

Anomen nodded.  "Stay well, Halbarad."

"And you, my friend."

Halbarad vanished into the forest, and Anomen crept back to take up his post.

For the next fortnight, nothing noteworthy happened.  From time to time a Hobbit would cross the Brandywine.  The Southron would spy upon the Hobbit, and Anomen would spy upon the Southron.  A few times Halbarad came down from the north to exchange news with Anomen.

"The leader slips off each day to eavesdrop upon the Periannath near Brandy Hall.  When he returns, however, he tells his fellow spy nothing, so I do not know if he has learned anything of importance.  His companion speaks incessantly of the treasure that supposedly lies in the Shire, and I think the leader fears that he will turn traitor and try to make off with it if he learns where it lies hidden." Halbarad sighed.  "I am torn between remaining by the river and following the leader to find out what he has learned."  Halbarad shook his head in frustration.  "I suppose I should remain by the river.  I would not want Gandalf to cross in my absence."

 It was true that the leader did not trust his companion, and that was how it came to pass that it was Anomen who witnessed the attempt of a Southron to cross the Brandywine into the Shire proper.

It happened toward the end of one fine, sunny day.  Anomen heard hoofbeats and slipped as close as he could to the campsite of the Southron he had been watching.  The leader rode into view.

"Fleischer," he said brusquely, "from what I have lately overheard.  I think the wizard makes for a place called 'Hobbiton' whenever he visits the Shire.  I want you to slip across the river and make your way to that place.  Found out whatever you can about the wizard's friends in that place.  Where does he stay?  Whom does he visit?"

"How am I to get across without being seen?"

"Steal one of those boats that are drawn up on the bank downstream of the ferry.  When you have gotten to the other side, let the boat loose.  It will drift somewhere and eventually fetch up against the bank, and these foolish little folk will think that it merely got loose.  Return in a similar fashion, for I am sure there will be a boat or two pulled up on the other side of the river."

"What will you do in the meanwhile?"

"I will return to our camp in the north.  I do not wish Verräter to know that anything is up.  I don't trust him."

"Perhaps you and I should do away with him.  Then only the two of us will share the reward."

"Good point.  I will think on it.  For now, find out what you can."

The leader mounted his horse and rode off.  As soon as he was gone, Fleischer lengthened his horses' tethers so that they could reach fresh grass in his absence.  Then he broke camp, stuffing his belongings into his pack, and made for the river bank, Anomen following silently behind him.  He was going to have to stop the Southron from reaching Hobbiton, but how?  Should he slay him?

The Southron reached the bank and began to untie one of the boats.  Anomen reluctantly drew an arrow and nocked it.  Then he heard the sound of Hobbit voices, and to his relief, a pair of Hobbits, man and wife perhaps, the wife carrying a basket, came down to the bank.  So the Southron had been foiled without Anomen needing to take any action whatsoever.  Relieved, Anomen slipped the arrow back into his quiver.

"Drogo," exclaimed the Hobbit woman, "that Man is taking our boat!"

"Oh, we'll see about that, Primula," Drogo exclaimed stoutly.  "Here, you, what are you doing with our boat!?"

"As that runt has just pointed out," Southron replied rudely, "I am taking your boat—stealing it really, if you want to be precise."

"Well, you can just leave off stealing it," said Drogo indignantly.

Anomen wished he could show himself as the Southron continued to abuse the Halflings.

"You will give me the boat, Shire rat.  In case you haven't noticed, I am larger than you, and I am armed."

"You may be bigger than the two of us combined," replied Drogo bravely, "but a band of Hobbits would be more than enough to overwhelm the likes of you, and a band is just what I shall raise if you filch this boat.  Be off before you give me occasion to have the horn of Buckland sounded!"

"Ooooh," sneered the Southron.  "The horn of Buckland!  I tremble!"

Suddenly he reached forward and yanked the basket from Primula's hands.  Before anyone, Elf or Hobbit, could react, he had flung the basket into the river.

"My baby!" Primula screamed.  "My little Frodo!"

Both Hobbits turned their backs on the Southron, and he immediately pushed the two into the river.  They sank beneath the surface and then arose gasping.  Neither could swim but both valiantly attempted to dogpaddle in the direction of the basket.  But the water was cold and the current swift.  They were fast being overwhelmed by the power of the rushing river.

As soon as the Southron had pushed the Hobbits into the Brandywine, he had leaped into the boat, but the villain didn't get far.  Halbarad's warning that he must never show himself no longer seemed to matter, and Anomen leaped into the open, nocked an arrow, and shot the escaping spy.  The Southron toppled over and, weighed down by boots, cape, and sword, he sank immediately and never resurfaced.  His bones may lie to this day at the bottom of the Brandywine, unguessed at by the Hobbits who dwell placidly upon the river's bank.

The Southron disposed off, Anomen turned his attention to the Hobbits.  He cast off his cloak and threw aside his weapons.  Diving into the water, he swam as quickly as he could toward Drogo and Primula, but by the time he had reached the spot where they had been thrashing about, they had once again sunk beneath the water.  He was about to dive beneath the surface to search for them when he heard the cries of the baby.  Floating further downstream, the basket was getting soggy, and the infant, distressed at the touch of the cold water, had begun to cry.  Weeping because he could not save them all, Anomen left off searching for the two adults and made for the basket.

            After the basket was safely ashore, Anomen swam back to the spot where he had last seen the two adult Hobbits.  Again and again he dove down to feel his way along the bottom of the river.  At last he touched a hand.  Seizing it, he pulled the limp form of Drogo to the surface.  He knew that the Hobbit was past reviving, but he wanted his kinsmen to be able to recover the body and bid their relative farewell.  After pulling Drogo to the shore, Anomen dove back into the river to search for Primula.  The sun was westering when he at last found her body and returned to shore with it.  Shivering, Anomen wrapped himself in his cloak and hid in a tree to keep watch over the baby and his parents.  He did not want to leave until he was sure that they had been found.

Anomen kept watch until late into the night, all the while berating himself for his folly.  "I should have known," he whispered to himself, "I should have known that the Southron would kill anyone who saw him.  Of course he wouldn't leave any witnesses alive, for then the game would be up.  Why, why did I not shoot him straightaway?"  As Anomen brooded in this fashion, the weary hours dragged on until Hobbits from Brandy Hall finally began to scour the banks of the river.  Silently, Anomen added his tears to those of the searchers when they at last came upon the bodies of the adult Hobbits.  But at least Anomen could console himself that the Hobbits had some reason to rejoice when they discovered the basket, the baby inside sleeping peacefully, not yet aware that his entire future had just changed in the most radical fashion.

Descending at last from his hiding place in the tree, Anomen found that he was quite stiff from his long vigil.  Limping, his hair matted, his face muddy, the young Elf made his way toward Halbarad's camp, there to be greeted by the Ranger and—Gandalf!

"Oh, Gandalf," sobbed Anomen, flinging himself into the arms of the surprised wizard—surprised both because Anomen was never dirty and he never wept.  "Gandalf, the most awful thing has happened.  A Southron drowned two Hobbits.  I didn't save them, Gandalf.  I could have, but I didn't!"

Halbarad and Gandalf both suppressed gasps of horror.  It was necessary to stay calm for the sake of the distraught young Elf.  Gandalf rubbed Anomen's back soothingly, saying nothing until the young Elf began to master his emotions.  Then the wizard gently asked him if he could tell them what happened.

"The Southron was in his camp when a second spy arrived and told him that he must make his way to Hobbiton."

"Hobbiton," said Gandalf sharply.  "Are you sure?"

"Yes.  The second spy said he had come to believe that this was the place needed the most watching."

"This second spy, can you tell me aught of him?"

"Halbarad thinks he is the leader of the band."

Gandalf nodded.  "Go on."

"The spy went down to the river bank to steal a boat.  The Hobbits caught him taking their boat and began to argue with them.  It was a family, I think, husband, wife, and baby."

"Three Hobbits?  But you said two drowned?"

"Yes."

"Go on."

The Hobbits tried to stop the spy from stealing their boat, and, and, he grabbed the basket and threw it into the river!"

"The basket?"

"The baby was in the basket."

"I see."

The two Hobbits spun around toward the river, and the spy pushed them in!"

"And then?"

"The Southron jumped into the boat, but I shot him.  He fell into the water."

"His body," exclaimed Gandalf.  "What became of his body?"

"He sank immediately, and I never saw him again."

Gandalf relaxed.  "Good.  Continue."

"I dove into the water, but before I could reach Drogo and Primula, they had sunk as well."

Gandalf was startled.  "Drogo and Primula?  How did you know their names?'

"They addressed each other so.  And the baby's name is Frodo.  I heard the mother cry out its name when the Southron threw the basket into the river."

"His name," said Gandalf.  "Frodo is a boy.  Go on."

"The baby was crying, and I could see that the basket was beginning to sink, so I went after the basket instead of diving down for the parents.  After I had pulled it ashore, I resumed searching for Drogo and Primula.  After a long while, I found their bodies at the bottom of the river.  I drew them ashore, and then I hid nearby to be sure that searchers at least found the baby."

"Which they did?"

"Yes, and the bodies as well."

"Frodo son of Drogo," mused Gandalf.  "That would be the nephew of Bilbo Baggins," the wizard added thoughtfully.  "Curious coincidence, that."

 "Coincidence?"

"Nothing, my lad, nothing—only, I am very glad you were there, very glad, indeed."

"But I didn't save them, Gandalf!  I should have shot the Southron straightaway, but I waited too long.  I thought he would have to give over his plan of stealing the boat because the Hobbits weren't backing down.  I thought that would be the end of it for the time being.  I was wrong, Gandalf, and two are dead because I was wrong!"

"No, my lad," replied Gandalf calmly.  "Two are dead because they were murdered by a spy in the service of the Enemy.  One yet lives because he was rescued by a young one who had a great charge laid upon his shoulders and did as well as he could with the information he had at his disposal.  You cannot blame yourself for the deeds of the Enemy.  We hinder them as best we can, but when our foes succeed, the guilt lies upon their heads, not ours."

"Halbarad," said the Istar, turning to the Ranger, "can any more of your kin be spared for the watch upon the Shire?"

"It would seem that the Enemy has indeed taken an interest in this land," said the Dunadan gravely.  "Perhaps you know why, my friend, but I will not press you to explain.  It is enough that it is plain that the Enemy's forces must be countered.  Our numbers are few, and other regions will be subject to depredation if we concentrate our forces round the Shire.  Nevertheless, I shall send word to my kinsmen, and all who can be spared will take on this charge."

"I thank you, my friend," replied Gandalf, equally grave.  "I am afraid I have one more task I would lay upon you."

"Indeed," said the Ranger ironically.  "I am amazed.  Such a thing has never happened before."

Ranger and wizard shared a wry smile.  Then Gandalf sighed.

"The leader of this band of Southron spies seems much too clever by half.  I am afraid that I must ask you to arrange for him to have an accident, a serious accident, mind you."

"It will be as serious as I can contrive, I assure you.  But I have a boon I would ask you."

"Yes?"

"I would like him to look upon my face as he lies dying.  I do not wish to be an assassin who slips in and out of the shadows.  Would that be permitted?"

"Aye, as long as you are seen by no one else.  The watchers must not know that they are being watched."

"I will be discreet."

"I am sure of it, my friend."

Anomen had been listening bewildered to this entire conversation.  The Shire, which had once seemed such an innocent place, was wrapped up in a great mystery, one that had drawn the forces of the Enemy to its very borders.  Indeed, this day the Enemy had tried to penetrate those borders, with deadly results.

Gandalf turned toward the young Elf.

"Ah, my lad, your face is a study in curiosity—curiosity which I fear it will be your doom to suffer for yet a little while.  Your face is also a study in grime—and about that something may be done.  Wash your face, tidy your hair, eat your supper, and go to bed.  Tomorrow you and I shall set out for Imladris."

"Imladris!" cried Anomen indignantly.  "But why may I not continue to assist Halbarad in keeping watch on the Shire?  I am no elfling, even if you have just spoken to me as if I were."

"My pardon.  I did not mean to suggest such a thing.  But as you have heard, some of Halbarad's kin will be joining him, and even as we speak his eyes are being seconded by various of the birds and beasts that I called upon as I journeyed hence from Rivendell.  You have done a valiant deed today, but now your services are needed elsewhere, in the Misty Mountains, I think, if I heard Elrond correctly."

"The Misty Mountains?"

"Aye.  Thoron's patrol has found more tracks coming down from the mountains to the borders of Imladris—Orcs this time.  Elladan and Elrohir are to set out to reconnoiter, and Elrond wants you to accompany them.  There.  Does that bit of news assuage your hurt feelings at how I spoke to you just now?'

Anomen sighed.  "Very well, Gandalf, but I pray that you will think twice before you again tell me to 'go to bed' in such a peremptory fashion.

"Indeed I will.  Next time I will say something such as, 'so great is the task that you face on the morrow, that you should prepare for it by getting as much sleep as possible, as wise warriors are wont to do'.  Will that speech suffice?"

"Yes."

"Good.  Now go to bed."

"Gandalf!"

"I said the 'next time', did I not?  It is not yet the next time."

Halbarad shook his head, a slight smile upon his face.  "Gandalf, will you never leave off tormenting the young one?"

"I am allowed very few pleasures in my life," said Gandalf with mock gravity.  "Tormenting the young is one of them.  Pray do no ask me to give up one of my rare sources of amusement."

In spite of the horrible events of that day, Anomen could not help but smile a little—as Gandalf no doubt intended.

When Anomen arose on the morrow, he discovered that the wizard had changed his plans during the night.

"We will be returning to Imladris, my lad, but first we will be stopping by Brandy Hall.  If it was indeed Primula Baggins who drowned, I would like to pay my respects to her parents, Mirabella and Gorbadoc Brandybuck.  And then perhaps we will brief visit the Shire proper so that I can renew my acquaintance with an old friend of mine who lives in Hobbiton.

Anomen wondered at Gandalf's change of plans, but of course he had no objection.  They broke fast, and then Anomen washed the dishes as quickly as he could.  (He was centuries older than Halbarad, but he still drew skivvy duty on this expedition because the Ranger was deemed mature amongst Men whilst he was merely accounted young amongst Elves.  This did not seem fair to Anomen, but there you have it.)

When wizard and Elf arrived at Brandy Hall, it looked much the same as it had when Anomen visited it as an elfling, save that there were more round windows and more round doors through which burst an even larger number of cheering, shouting Hobbit children.  One of them, noisier than the rest, very much reminded Anomen of Merry.  This one planted himself boldly in front of Anomen.

"You're an Elf!" he declared gleefully.  "Once upon a time an Elf came here and played with my great-great-great granddad.  He was called 'Leaf' or 'Tree' or 'Bush' or some such name."

"Who was your great-great-great granddad?" asked Anomen eagerly.

"Merry Brandybuck.  And my great-great granddad was Merry Brandybuck, and so was my great granddad and my granddad and my dad.  And I," he finished proudly, "am Merry Brandybuck, too!"

"You do look like your great-great-great granddad," exclaimed a delighted Anomen.

"How would you know?" asked the latest Merry, a puzzled look upon his face.

"Oh, I mean, I am sure that you do indeed take after your great-great-great granddad."

"We-ell," said the youngest Merry, "when I, um, 'gather' mushrooms, my great granddad does say that I am his granddad come back again—though he says it as shouldn't, for I have heard my dad say the same of him!"

Anomen laughed.  "I like mushrooms, too!"

"Do you?  There is a place across the river, a farm where mushrooms grow so thick they're like to crowd each other out.  If you stop here long enough, mayhap we can go across and gather some."

Anomen shook his head regretfully.

"Our business here will be brief, I fear.  Gandalf merely wishes to pay his respects to Mirabella and Gorbadoc Brandybuck.

Merry grew somber.

"They're inside making ready to bid farewell to my Uncle Drogo and Aunt Primula.  My uncle and aunt drowned in the Brandywine yesterday.  Folk do say that Drogo must have had trouble managing the boat in the swift current. He had been on the river before, but he was a Baggins, not a Brandybuck, so he was not as skillful at handling boats as most hereabouts."

"I am very sorry," said Anomen simply.

"Thank you," replied Merry.  "At least we can take some comfort that their baby did not drown—that's something to be grateful for.  Frodo was in a basket, and it floated long enough to wash up on shore."

"I am very glad to hear it," said Anomen.

"My dad swears that someone must have been looking out for the wee creature.  Would you like to see him?"

"If it wouldn't be any trouble," said Anomen, trying not to seem too eager.

"I don't think anyone would mind," answered Merry, and he led Anomen into a room where a motherly Hobbit gently rocked a cradle.  Anomen approached softly and peered into the little bed.  A Hobbit infant looked up at him.  Anomen caught his breath at the depth of expression in the child's blue eyes.

"A dear little thing he is," said the Hobbit matron.  "He hasn't cried a bit—just looks at everyone as sober as a magistrate.  If I didn't know better, I'd say he understood that his dad and ma can't be here for him no more—but no baby is that wise."

The infant studied Anomen as intently as the Elf studied him.  The motherly Hobbit was wrong, Anomen decided—this baby was that wise.

"Ah, I see that you have made the acquaintance of our little Frodo."

Gandalf stood in the doorway, flanked on either side by Frodo's Brandybuck grandparents.  He walked over to stand beside Anomen.

"Remarkable," he said softly under his breath as he looked down at the infant.  Then he turned to address the grandparents.

"Anomen and I are going on to Hobbiton.  Would you like us to carry word of this unfortunate accident to Drogo's cousin Bilbo?  He will be sure to want to do something for Frodo, now his parents have both passed on."

"Oh," said Gorbadoc gratefully, "could you?  I mislike sending such news in a letter.  You're an old friend of Bilbo, so it would seem right for you to carry a message from us.  But you are sure that you don't mind?"

"As you say, I am an old friend of Bilbo—and of you as well, as I was to your father and grandfather before you.  I am glad to do what little I can to help you and Bilbo in a time such as this."

"Thank you, Gandalf.  Thank you, indeed."

The next morning Gandalf and Anomen set out for Hobbiton.  Gandalf told Anomen to keep his hood up.

"The Hobbits in Buckland see no harm in keeping company with Elves, but the folks in Hobbiton may look askance at you.   Bilbo already has a reputation for eccentricity thereabouts, and if he is visited by an Elf as well as a wizard, that is likely to put the nail in the coffin of his respectability."

As Gandalf and Anomen drew near to Bag End, two sour-faced Hobbits came marching toward them.  Gandalf greeted them politely.

"A good-day to you, Master Sackville-Baggins, and a good-day to you as well, Mistress Sackville-Baggins."

"Hmmph," snorted the Mistress.  "If you are on your way to see Bilbo Baggins, you may as well turn back.  He's not to home."

"Indeed?"

"You needn't look so doubtful!  We looked in every window, and he is not to be seen."

"Not to be seen?"

"That's what I said!  Not to be seen."

"Well, well, perhaps I'll just leave a calling card."

With that, Gandalf bowed, but not even that gesture improved the temper of Master and Mistress Sackville-Baggins.

As they walked on, Anomen said, "Since your friend is not to home, what shall we do?"

"Oh, he is at Bag End."

"But they did not see him."

"No, I suppose he would have made sure that they could not see him.  Nevertheless, unless I am badly mistaken, we shall be able to see him."

Anomen was puzzled at Gandalf's words, but he was used to that feeling when in the company of the wizard.  On they walked.

When they arrived at the round door of Bag End, Gandalf took his staff and rapped sharply upon it.

"Gandalf," protested Anomen, "you have put a dent in the door—and it looks as if it has been newly painted!"

"I know," smiled the wizard, who managed to look surprisingly mischievous for an agéd Istar.  "Positively drives him wild.  Observe how I have very nearly tapped out the rune for 'G'.   Another few visits and the shape of the rune shall be quite distinctly impressed into the wood."

Just at that moment the visitors heard someone spluttering on the other side of the door, which was flung open with a bang.

"Just had that door painted, I did, and—Gandalf!"

One very enthusiastic Hobbit flung himself into the arms of his old friend.

"Gandalf!  What a pleasure!  What a delight!  Do come in!  And your friend as well!  An Elf, I see—the hood doesn't fool me, my friend!  Tea?  I was just about to have some."

"You are always 'just about to have some'," laughed Gandalf.

"Well, and what if I am," said the Hobbit, joining in the laughter.  "Why ever did you send me off on a quest if you didn't wish me to learn the value of a hearty repast."

"As if you didn't know that beforehand!" exclaimed the wizard.

"There is nothing like going without to teach you the true worth of something," averred the Hobbit.  "But aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"Bilbo, allow me to present to you Anomen, foster-son of Elrond."

"Ah, an Elf from the Last Homely House.  I am delighted.  Pour you some tea?"

Apparently tea was absolutely necessary for a proper welcome, and Anomen said that he would be glad to have some—although he was not sure what 'tea' was.  Presumably it was something potable, and it could not, he thought, be worse than beer.

As it turned out, tea was both a beverage and a meal, and both were indeed far superior to beer in the eyes, or rather the mouth, of the Elf.  Anomen followed Gandalf's lead in stirring honey into his tea, and the other foods he was well-acquainted with—bread and scones and cheese and clotted cream and fresh strawberries.

After the wizard, the Elf, and the Hobbit had satisfied their hunger, Gandalf leaned back, lit his pipe, and looked over the Hobbit carefully.

"I must say, Bilbo, that you are keeping yourself remarkably well.'

"Yes, yes, of course.  I have plenty to eat, and I walk about quite a bit.  I have kept fairly fit, I think.  Most other Hobbits of my acquaintance seem to be letting themselves go."

"Not so much letting themselves go as aging, don't you think?"

"No," said Bilbo stubbornly, "letting themselves go.  If it were aging, I would look as they do—and I don't."

"Quite right," agreed Gandalf.  "If you were aging, you would look as they do."

Bilbo looked as if he were not sure how to reply.  While he was that state of uncertainty, Gandalf pressed his advantage.

"Do you still have that keepsake you picked up after our party was attacked by goblins—a ring I think it was?"

"Ye-es."

"I should like Anomen to see it, for it was a pretty bauble."

The Hobbit seemed reluctant, but he drew something forth from a pocket in his vest.  His hand trembling, he unclenched his fingers just enough for Anomen to see the shiny gold ring that lay on his palm, its smooth surface unmarred by any scratch or device.  Anomen stared at it warily.

"It is beautiful," he whispered, "but—."  He paused.

"Yes?" said Gandalf sharply, "beautiful but what?"

Anomen shook his head.  He could not make out the word that ought to follow 'but'.

"Put it away," he abruptly said to the Hobbit.  "I don't want to look at it anymore!"

The Hobbit gladly—and hastily—obliged, but Gandalf stared at the Elf, his face inscrutable.  Then he changed the subject.

"I fear, Bilbo, that this is not altogether a lighthearted visit.  I bring sad news from your kin in Buckland.  Yesterday Drogo and Primula meant to go boating on the Brandywine, but I am afraid they have both drowned.  Their child survived the incident, however."

The ring was instantly forgotten.

"But this is dreadful, Gandalf!  Drogo and Primula were both so young, and their child but newly born.  How awful!  Oh, dear, I must do something for the poor little fellow!"

"I was hoping you would say that, Bilbo.  His grandparents will look after him for the time being, but they are rather agéd.  And there are so many young ones at Brandy Hall that I am rather afraid he will get overlooked as the years go by.  I know his Brandybuck kin will make sure that he lacks for nothing, so it's not your money he will have need of.  Instead, when he is old enough, you ought to have him to Bag End from time to time.  It will be good for him to have someone to pay a bit of attention to him, I am sure."

"You are right, Gandalf, and, well, actually, I've been feeling a bit restless and wishing there were some young folk about.  It would be good for me, too, I think."

"Excellent!  It's settled then.  You'll keep an especial eye on your nephew Frodo and have him to Bag End as soon and as often as possible."

Just at that moment someone began to bang furiously at the door.  Quickly Gandalf leaped to his feet, one hand reaching for his staff, the other flinging aside the cloak to reveal the sword underneath.

"Anomen, draw your blade," he commanded.  "Bilbo, have you a weapon?"

"I loaned Sting to the museum at Michel Delving, but I'll make do," said Bilbo, who was bewildered at Gandalf's behavior but nevertheless stoutly seized the longest knife within reach.

"Mr. Bilbo," a voice clamored as the banging resumed.  "Mr. Bilbo!"

Bilbo sighed in relief.  "The gardener.  Probably nothing worse than caterpillars on the cucumbers."  He went to answer the door, and Gandalf and Anomen put up their weapons.  Anomen looked curiously at Gandalf, but the wizard shook his head at him.

"Well, Hamfast, what's the trouble?" they heard Bilbo say.

"It's the taters, Mr. Bilbo!  There's a blight a'settin' in on 'em.  I saw Master Gandalf a'goin' up the path earlier today.  He's got to come quick!"

Gandalf went to the door.

"Master Gandalf, ye must come straightaway!"

"Hamfast Gamgee, I know nothing about the care of potatoes!"

 "That's awreet, Master Gandalf.  You're a wizard!"

"But that doesn't make me a horticulturist!"

"A horti-what?"

"Like as not," suggested Bilbo, "your mere presence will suffice, Gandalf."

"Oh, very well," agreed Gandalf reluctantly.  "I suppose I'll have to face worse blights in the months and years to come."

Gandalf proceeded to place a spell on Master Gamgee's potatoes that would set for life that gardener's reputation as the premier spud grower of the entire Shire.  Later, after feasting on fried potatoes, mashed potatoes, potatoes boiled with onions and parsley, and potatoes in cheese sauce—all compliments of the wife of the grateful Ham Gamgee—Anomen and Gandalf prepared for a well-deserved rest on the excellent feather mattresses with which Bilbo's guest rooms were equipped.  Anomen thought he might try to wheedle a little information out of the wizard.

"Gandalf—"

"No."

"I was only going to ask—"

"No."

"But—"

"No—and would you like me to put a spell on your mouth to silence you for the night?"

"You are treating me like an elfling again, and you promised you wouldn't!"

"Hmmm."  Gandalf forgot that he was preparing for bed and began to absent-mindedly fill his pipe.  He lit it and began to puff upon it, sending his trademark animal creations floating up to the rafters.  There went a horse, there a dragon, there an oliphaunt.  At last he removed the pipe from his mouth and gave Anomen as much of an explanation as he was going to get.

"Anomen, you must have noticed that I also did not explain to Halbarad the exact nature of my interest in the Shire."

Anomen had to concede that that was true.

"Have you considered, Anomen, that I may have a good reason for not telling you at this time all my fears and suspicions?"

"Because they are fears and suspicions; you are thus unsure of your facts?"

"Excellent, my lad.  Can you think of any other reason?  What, say, would happen if you fell into unfriendly hands—as has happened to you once before, I might point out?"

Anomen looked at the wizard gravely.  "I see.  It would not be good for me to know more than it is necessary for me to know—lest I unwillingly or unwittingly reveal valuable information to the Enemy."

"Yes, it would not be good—not only for the Shire but for your health!  The Enemy has the most interesting methods for questioning prisoners, as the Dwarf Thráin learned to his grief in the dungeons of Dol Guldur."

Anomen shuddered.

"Is your curiosity satisfied for the time being, Anomen?"

"Oh, yes, Gandalf," the young Elf declared fervently.

"Good, then go to—I mean, sleep well, my friend."

As the young Elf's eyes glazed over, the last thing he saw was a cavalcade of vaporous horses galloping, galloping, galloping across the ceiling.  That night he dreamed of a mighty cavalry charging across a plain toward towering oliphaunts.  In the distance, horns blew wildly but whether in triumph or in terror, he could not tell.