Traces of the Flight
A sullen silence hung over the marchers as they continued on at a relentless pace, driven on, not only by Sam, but Strider as well. Bill the pony had been temporarily placed in Merry's care while Sam closely dogged Strider's footsteps in the lead.
"On your feet young master. You'll get plenty of rest for your feet once we reach Rivendell," said Strider as he continued on without stopping.
Pippin, wondering how the ranger had known, hastily got back up after plopping himself on the ground for only a moment, "I don't understand why we have to practically run to Rivendell. You said so yourself that Frodo should get there by this evening, and, well it's not like we can do anything for him that the elves can't.
Sam shot Pippin a harsh look, but it was Strider who addressed the youngest hobbit, "There is more to be said for the healing powers of friends and loved ones then you realize," Strider paused his lengthy strides long enough to look over his shoulder, "As for our pace, I want to keep ahead of those rain clouds coming from the west as long as possible.
"I'd have to side with Pippin here, I think the risk of getting a little wet is well worth a short rest," Merry said while sniffing the air with a grimace, "Besides, I think Bill here could use a wash.
"If you don't mind my saying so, none of us smell like summer gardens after so long in the wild," Sam shot back defensively.
"I know that you are all hardy enough to withstand a storm," Strider said to lightly dismiss their squabbling, "What I'm afraid of is that the rain might wash away any signs of tracks.
"Tracks of what?" Pippin said.
"Mr. Frodo...and anything that might be following him," Sam said with a certainty that surprised the other two hobbits. They looked up questioningly at Strider to find his face grimly set.
Without a word they all quickened their pace.
The afternoon sun slowly sunk into twilight. So far there had been no sign of the elf-maiden, Frodo, or the ringwraiths.
"It's no use. Night is falling and those storm clouds are gathering mighty fast," Sam said.
"No sign, is a good sign, right?" Pippin asked with a forced edge of hope in his voice, "I mean if Strider can't find any hint of Frodo's trail what chance do the wraiths have?
"Besides, for all we know Frodo has already reached Rivendell and is being healed," Merry added.
"We can hope for the best, but we know nothing for sure," Strider said, "But we still have one chance to find a trace of our query before the rains come. Up ahead there is a stream. It flows swiftly and deep. The only way to cross it, for miles around, is a bridge on the East Road a short distance from here. There we should find a hint of Frodo's flight.
"Sam, you stay here and start a fire, Merry will stay behind to watch your back. The road is only a stone throw from here, I will venture out to make sure it is clear. Pippin, you're with me.
Pippin shot Merry a startled look, but his kinsman only gave him a small nod of encouragement before he went off to help Sam gather firewood. Darkness fell as the man and hobbit made for the road.
"Help me bundle this kindling together, that Strider will have need of torches, if I'm not mistaken.
A short time later Strider emerged from the shadows, followed closely by Pippin, "No one travels on the road this night." Strider saw Merry's shoulders relax in the dim light of the fire.
"We best start off, Sir, those clouds of yours will start pouring any moment now," Sam said as he produced the two torches he and Merry had manage to make in the others absence.
A small, but genuine, smile was given to Sam as Strider took the torches and lit them in the fire, "Good work, Sam. Come, let us see what there is to see," he nodded to his companions as he handed Sam the second torch.
There were no stars or moonlight in the night sky, only the dark boding presence of thick heavy rain clouds. Sam held his torch close to the ground as Strider examined a set of markings on the ground near the bridge. Merry and Pippin stood at the edge of the light cast by the two small fires, careful not to disturb any tracks that might be found on the ground.
"Well?", it seemed to Pippin that the man had already spent an eternity surveying the dirt upon the road.
"Patience, Master Took. I have almost unraveled the story of these tracks." The ranger gave no hint of his discoveries thus far. The young hobbit bounced on the balls of his feet and angled his head towards the man in the hopes of seeing his face and being able to find a clue as to what Strider may be thinking. However it was no use, as he was not facing him. Pippin started to edge off to the side in order to get a better view.
"Pippin, stop your fidgeting." Merry didn't mean to snap at his young cousin, but the strain of dogging Frodo's trail was showing on everyone. Pippin sheepishly stopped his sly advance on the ranger when he saw a glimmer of light out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head, to find the source, but it was gone.
"Seven horses have crossed this bridge recently," Strider declared, as he finally arose from his study of the markings on the road, "Two of the tracks are older then the others. One of these are most certainly from the steed that Frodo rides upon. The other five are fresher, and likely belong to the ringwraiths that attacked us on Weathertop. Arwen and Frodo have a bit of a head start on those five.
"So, it's for certain then? The wraiths are following Frodo?" This was not what Sam had hoped for.
"That they would be pursued by the wraiths from Weathertop, I had already guessed at. Yet it is a good sign that at the time Frodo crossed this bridge the wraiths had not caught up with him. The other four of the nine were probably laying in wait at some point beyond here." Sam and Merry gave out a cry at this. Strider quickly continued, "Arwen was aware that four of the wraiths were unaccounted for, she would have been ready for them. What concerns me is these seventh set of tracks.
"Couldn't they just belong to an ordinary traveler on the road? Someone who had an errand upon this road that has nothing to do with ours?" Merry asked, obviously more concerned with the wraiths' tracks then this unidentifiable set.
"I would agree with you, except that it would seem that the rider who passed here seemed to be searching, or waiting, for something. The tracks pass back and forth over the bridge several times.
Silence fell over the three as they tried to puzzle out this mystery, when Sam suddenly looked up, "Where's Pippin?
"Pippin!" Two voices cried out in unison before Strider had a chance to silence them. It was to late though, between the light cast by the torches and the frantic calls of the hobbits, any possible attacker would now know where they were.
"Pippi-!
"Aye, what is all the fuss about?" Pippin emerged from the shadows on the edge of the road. He was immediately embraced and slapped over the head at the same time. "Hey! Be careful, you might break it!" He was gingerly holding something in his hands.
The youngster approached the ranger, "I saw it flickering in the fire light. Do you know what it is?" He then produced a small green stone whose polished facets glimmered like starlight.
A slow smile spread across the man's face as he took the gem from Pippin to better examine it, "That, my friend, is the answer to our riddle.
Before Strider could explain further Merry, who still clung to Pippin, tilted his head and asked, "What's that sound?
"Sounds like rain, but I don't feel nye a drop," Sam looked up at the heavy rain clouds in confusion.
"That's not rain," Strider's grin grew wider as he looked across the bridge into the darkness, "Those are bells."
A sullen silence hung over the marchers as they continued on at a relentless pace, driven on, not only by Sam, but Strider as well. Bill the pony had been temporarily placed in Merry's care while Sam closely dogged Strider's footsteps in the lead.
"On your feet young master. You'll get plenty of rest for your feet once we reach Rivendell," said Strider as he continued on without stopping.
Pippin, wondering how the ranger had known, hastily got back up after plopping himself on the ground for only a moment, "I don't understand why we have to practically run to Rivendell. You said so yourself that Frodo should get there by this evening, and, well it's not like we can do anything for him that the elves can't.
Sam shot Pippin a harsh look, but it was Strider who addressed the youngest hobbit, "There is more to be said for the healing powers of friends and loved ones then you realize," Strider paused his lengthy strides long enough to look over his shoulder, "As for our pace, I want to keep ahead of those rain clouds coming from the west as long as possible.
"I'd have to side with Pippin here, I think the risk of getting a little wet is well worth a short rest," Merry said while sniffing the air with a grimace, "Besides, I think Bill here could use a wash.
"If you don't mind my saying so, none of us smell like summer gardens after so long in the wild," Sam shot back defensively.
"I know that you are all hardy enough to withstand a storm," Strider said to lightly dismiss their squabbling, "What I'm afraid of is that the rain might wash away any signs of tracks.
"Tracks of what?" Pippin said.
"Mr. Frodo...and anything that might be following him," Sam said with a certainty that surprised the other two hobbits. They looked up questioningly at Strider to find his face grimly set.
Without a word they all quickened their pace.
The afternoon sun slowly sunk into twilight. So far there had been no sign of the elf-maiden, Frodo, or the ringwraiths.
"It's no use. Night is falling and those storm clouds are gathering mighty fast," Sam said.
"No sign, is a good sign, right?" Pippin asked with a forced edge of hope in his voice, "I mean if Strider can't find any hint of Frodo's trail what chance do the wraiths have?
"Besides, for all we know Frodo has already reached Rivendell and is being healed," Merry added.
"We can hope for the best, but we know nothing for sure," Strider said, "But we still have one chance to find a trace of our query before the rains come. Up ahead there is a stream. It flows swiftly and deep. The only way to cross it, for miles around, is a bridge on the East Road a short distance from here. There we should find a hint of Frodo's flight.
"Sam, you stay here and start a fire, Merry will stay behind to watch your back. The road is only a stone throw from here, I will venture out to make sure it is clear. Pippin, you're with me.
Pippin shot Merry a startled look, but his kinsman only gave him a small nod of encouragement before he went off to help Sam gather firewood. Darkness fell as the man and hobbit made for the road.
"Help me bundle this kindling together, that Strider will have need of torches, if I'm not mistaken.
A short time later Strider emerged from the shadows, followed closely by Pippin, "No one travels on the road this night." Strider saw Merry's shoulders relax in the dim light of the fire.
"We best start off, Sir, those clouds of yours will start pouring any moment now," Sam said as he produced the two torches he and Merry had manage to make in the others absence.
A small, but genuine, smile was given to Sam as Strider took the torches and lit them in the fire, "Good work, Sam. Come, let us see what there is to see," he nodded to his companions as he handed Sam the second torch.
There were no stars or moonlight in the night sky, only the dark boding presence of thick heavy rain clouds. Sam held his torch close to the ground as Strider examined a set of markings on the ground near the bridge. Merry and Pippin stood at the edge of the light cast by the two small fires, careful not to disturb any tracks that might be found on the ground.
"Well?", it seemed to Pippin that the man had already spent an eternity surveying the dirt upon the road.
"Patience, Master Took. I have almost unraveled the story of these tracks." The ranger gave no hint of his discoveries thus far. The young hobbit bounced on the balls of his feet and angled his head towards the man in the hopes of seeing his face and being able to find a clue as to what Strider may be thinking. However it was no use, as he was not facing him. Pippin started to edge off to the side in order to get a better view.
"Pippin, stop your fidgeting." Merry didn't mean to snap at his young cousin, but the strain of dogging Frodo's trail was showing on everyone. Pippin sheepishly stopped his sly advance on the ranger when he saw a glimmer of light out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head, to find the source, but it was gone.
"Seven horses have crossed this bridge recently," Strider declared, as he finally arose from his study of the markings on the road, "Two of the tracks are older then the others. One of these are most certainly from the steed that Frodo rides upon. The other five are fresher, and likely belong to the ringwraiths that attacked us on Weathertop. Arwen and Frodo have a bit of a head start on those five.
"So, it's for certain then? The wraiths are following Frodo?" This was not what Sam had hoped for.
"That they would be pursued by the wraiths from Weathertop, I had already guessed at. Yet it is a good sign that at the time Frodo crossed this bridge the wraiths had not caught up with him. The other four of the nine were probably laying in wait at some point beyond here." Sam and Merry gave out a cry at this. Strider quickly continued, "Arwen was aware that four of the wraiths were unaccounted for, she would have been ready for them. What concerns me is these seventh set of tracks.
"Couldn't they just belong to an ordinary traveler on the road? Someone who had an errand upon this road that has nothing to do with ours?" Merry asked, obviously more concerned with the wraiths' tracks then this unidentifiable set.
"I would agree with you, except that it would seem that the rider who passed here seemed to be searching, or waiting, for something. The tracks pass back and forth over the bridge several times.
Silence fell over the three as they tried to puzzle out this mystery, when Sam suddenly looked up, "Where's Pippin?
"Pippin!" Two voices cried out in unison before Strider had a chance to silence them. It was to late though, between the light cast by the torches and the frantic calls of the hobbits, any possible attacker would now know where they were.
"Pippi-!
"Aye, what is all the fuss about?" Pippin emerged from the shadows on the edge of the road. He was immediately embraced and slapped over the head at the same time. "Hey! Be careful, you might break it!" He was gingerly holding something in his hands.
The youngster approached the ranger, "I saw it flickering in the fire light. Do you know what it is?" He then produced a small green stone whose polished facets glimmered like starlight.
A slow smile spread across the man's face as he took the gem from Pippin to better examine it, "That, my friend, is the answer to our riddle.
Before Strider could explain further Merry, who still clung to Pippin, tilted his head and asked, "What's that sound?
"Sounds like rain, but I don't feel nye a drop," Sam looked up at the heavy rain clouds in confusion.
"That's not rain," Strider's grin grew wider as he looked across the bridge into the darkness, "Those are bells."