Well, I managed to get this chapter up a little quicker than the last one.
Thanks again to all that have been reading and special thanks to all that
review! It is so very much appreciated.
Chapter 9 Hertig
Day after day Sam walked. He was able to find some edible roots and plants as well as the occasional stream. Spring was on the land and new growth was visible everywhere. One day, he was even able to catch himself a small fish using his shirt as a makeshift net. He was far from well fed, but he managed to keep downright starvation at bay. He found the going difficult as his strength ebbed. He needed to rest often and for longer and longer periods of time. He was beginning to wonder if he was making any progress at all. Several times groups of riders heading north passed him. The last one was the largest of all. Sam had found refuge high in some rocks and was surprised to see Lord Eomer and his beautiful sister, Lady Eowyn riding past, along with all the Rohirrim returning to their homes in Rohan.
He tried not to think of Frodo and the others back in the city. Sometimes he wondered if he had truly heard what he thought he had. Had Frodo really wished Sam gone? In his mind, Sam played the conversation over and over as if it had been permanently etched there. Each time, the pain was as sharp as ever. They were all probably relieved he was gone now, he thought morosely. At least now Frodo would no longer be reminded of the horrors that befell them in Mordor every time he looked at Sam. Sam held onto that belief to keep guilt at bay. He had nothing else.
He had been on his journey for a fortnight when he came to edge of a dark forest. The road passed through it, so he continued to follow its path. He was just so exhausted now. His sleep was still disrupted by nightmares that left him cold and shaking every night. He tried to sleep as little as possible, but many times his exhaustion and lack of food allowed him no choice. One night, he awoke abruptly, a cry of terror on his lips, a cold sweat covering his shivering body. He sat up and hugged himself miserably. He was freezing cold. He stood up trying to warm himself, but the bouts of shivering continued unabated. He also noticed that his limbs felt leaden and his joints ached. He refused to consider the possibility that he might be falling ill. "All you need is a nice hot cup o' tea and some stew to take the chill off your bones, Samwise Gamgee," he mumbled to himself, "Not that you're likely to get it in this forsaken place!" It must be near dawn, he thought to himself, the blackness between the trees was easing into soft grays. "Might as well get going," he sighed, his teeth chattering. He simply couldn't get warm.
He stumbled along the dark road, his mind replaying the nightmare again and again. Frodo was dead, Shelob and the Orcs stood around him laughing cruelly while Sam stood frozen, unable to move. Then, the monstrous, bloated spider turned her malevolent, glowing eyes towards Sam. Still, the Hobbit could not move, even as the menacing spider slowly approached him and its huge pincers purposefully closed around his head, the orcs' laughter still ringing in his ears. "No!" Sam cried, coming to himself for a moment, but the fever was upon him now, and with it, the dreams. He couldn't escape. He was trapped in the horrors of Mordor forever. It wasn't long before Sam's legs finally gave out, and he collapsed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo," he moaned, tears coursing down his haggard face. "I failed you. Please forgive me." His last conscious thoughts were of Frodo smiling in his arms on the slopes of Mt. Doom. As the merciful blackness overtook him, Sam silently whispered good-bye to his master. The unconscious hobbit then slid gracelessly down the slope along the side of the road, disappearing into the tall grass below. No passing traveler would see him now.
But someone passing did spy him. Hertig, a messenger from Minas Tirith, was cantering along in the early morning light making his way back to his home in Edoras. He had some messages from King Elessar to the new king of Rohan, King Eomer. He was eager to reach his home and reunite with his wife and children. It seemed a year since he had last seen them. He was thinking of this pleasant reunion when abruptly, his magnificent chestnut stallion, Manelys, halted in the road, refusing to move further. Frowning, Hertig dismounted and carefully inspected each of Manelys' hooves for imbedded stones. He seemed perfectly fine. Impatiently, the horse snorted, shaking his massive head. He then turned and looked over the side of the road.
Puzzled at his horse's behavior, Hertig cautiously made his way down the slope toward the bottom. At first he saw nothing, but soon he made out an odd rasping noise. Pulling his sword from its scabbard, he silently crept towards the noise. It wasn't until he almost stepped on the small form before him, that he realized someone was there, concealed in the tall grass. "A child?" he whispered in confusion. Quickly, he knelt down and gently turned the body over. No, not a child! A halfling! He was well acquainted with the small men after spending time with Merry and seeing the other hobbits in Minas Tirith. He thought for just a moment before it dawned on him that this must be the missing hobbit, the one the entire city of Minas Tirith had turned out to search for. How and why had he come to be so far away?
He looked at Sam with concern. It was apparent that the hobbit had not been eating; his skin felt papery and was pulled tight against the angular bones of his face. He was gaunt and wasted. Hertig laid his hand upon the Hobbit's brow and frowned at the heat there. The hobbit was obviously very ill. Hertig sat back on his heels for a moment as he considered his options. King Elessar and the Ringbearer, Frodo Baggins, had both been beside themselves with worry over their lost friend. He knew they would wish to know immediately that he had been found. Yet, the halfling was in no condition for a long ride back to Minas Tirith at present. No, the only choice was to take the hobbit with him to Edoras where he could be nursed back to health. Then, he could be returned safely to his companions.
Nodding, Hertig removed his cloak and gently wrapped the ill hobbit within its warm folds. He gave Manelys a rueful smile as he approached the waiting horse. "I should have known to trust your instincts, my friend," he said, stroking the horse's soft nose. "You have just saved one of the Heroes of Middle Earth!" The massive horse snorted and tossed his head. Hertig laid Sam across Manelys' saddle before swinging up behind. Then, cradling Sam securely in his arms, Hertig urged Manelys on towards the city of Edoras.
It took several more days before Hertig and his charge reached the city. King Eomer had returned just a week before and things were still being put to rights and the country was in mourning for the loss of their beloved king, Theoden. Hertig entered the city and followed a narrow road as it wound through the town before he finally reached a small thatched house. "Papa!" a small boy came hurtling through the door as Hertig carefully dismounted, Sam still firmly in his grasp. The hobbit had not improved at all during their journey and Hertig feared he would die before they reached the city. He had worked hard to get small portions of beef broth down Sam's throat to provide him with much needed nourishment and fluids. Still, the hobbit was caught in the throes of fever-fed nightmares and his small body was rapidly wasting away.
The small boy was dancing around his father now, delighted to see him home at long last. A moment later, he was joined by a woman carrying a tiny girl in her arms. "Hertig!" she cried joyfully hurrying towards him, her face wreathed in smiles. She stopped with a frown when she spied the bundle in her husband's arms. "What is this?" she asked in surprise.
"This is a halfling," he replied quietly gazing down at the haggard face just visible in the folds of the cloak. "He is very ill and needs immediate care." Hertig's wife, Helveg nodded and with a businesslike air, turned and led the way back into the cottage. Hertig gently placed Sam on the small bed in a back room and turned to Helveg. "Can you help him?"
Helveg was a skilled healer and well known in Edoras for her abilities to aid the sick. She handed her daughter to Hertig, then approached the Hobbit, pulling the coverings from his face and body. He was burning with fever and obviously malnourished. There were no wounds that she could detect. Mentally, she began going through her stock of herbs and tinctures. She turned again to her husband. "I will do what I can for him, "she said simply and went to work.
Hertig turned and left the room. His own elderly mother, Bertah, sat in a chair by the fire knitting. She looked at her tall son and smiled her warm, toothless grin. Hertig returned the smile, then handing the child to her, lifted his son into the air. "Have you been a good boy, Eldred?" he asked laughing.
"Oh, yes, Papa!" replied the boy in delight, his bright blue eyes shining with joy. "I have helped mama and chased away the orcs and kept everyone safe!" Hertig laughed again and gently swung his son back to earth.
Turning to his mother, Hertig said, "I must go to the King, I have messages from Minas Tirith that must be delivered. Tell Helveg I will return as soon as I am able." The old woman looked up from her granddaughter's silvery blonde head and nodded. A moment later, Hertig was gone.
After taking care of Manelys and settling him into his stable, Hertig hurried up the hill to Meduseld, the Golden Hall of the kings of Rohan. He was quickly admitted when he displayed his messages bearing King Elessar's seal and was led before King Eomer. "Greetings, Hertig!" smiled the new king. Eomer and Hertig had ridden in many campaigns together and knew each other well.
"Greetings, my lord," replied Hertig with a formal bow, but his eyes were smiling when he gazed upon his old friend. "I bring you messages from King Elessar." Hertig stepped forward and placed the pouch containing the scrolls into the king's hand.
"Ah," smiled Eomer as he quickly skimmed over the first document, "It seems our new king will wed sooner than we had hoped!" He looked up at Hertig, but was surprised by the worried look on his face.
"Is something amiss, Hertig?" Eomer asked frowning.
"My lord," replied the Rider, "I have news both good and ill. On my journey here, I came upon the missing hobbit, Samwise Gamgee. He is alive but unwell."
Eomer stared at him in confusion. "Samwise Gamgee?" he echoed. "Here?"
"Yes, my lord," Hertig nodded. "Manelys must have detected his scent for he halted in the road and would not venture further until I had scoured the area. I found the Ringbearer unconscious, hidden in the tall grass. I believe he would now be dead if we had not found him when we did."
"This is most strange," said Eomer slowly, fingering the parchment in his lap. For the life of him, he could not understand how the hobbit would come to be so far from Minas Tirith. "Has he spoken to you at all? Revealed anything of how he came to be here?"
Hertig shook his head. "No, my lord. He has not wakened since I found him. I have left him in the care of my good wife, Helveg."
Eomer nodded in approval. "That is good. If anyone can save Master Gamgee's life, it is your wife. I owe my own life to her able ministrations! I would send word to Minas Tirith that the missing halfling has been found, but I feel it would be best we wait til we know if he shall live or die."He was silent for a moment. "We owe our very existence to the efforts of that young halfling and his master," he said solemnly, "Keep me abreast of his progress. I would like to inform Elessar as soon as prudent of Master Gamgee's recovery."
"Yes, my lord." Hertig bowed again and gracefully exited the throne room. He was anxious to return home and help see to the welfare of his small charge.
Chapter 9 Hertig
Day after day Sam walked. He was able to find some edible roots and plants as well as the occasional stream. Spring was on the land and new growth was visible everywhere. One day, he was even able to catch himself a small fish using his shirt as a makeshift net. He was far from well fed, but he managed to keep downright starvation at bay. He found the going difficult as his strength ebbed. He needed to rest often and for longer and longer periods of time. He was beginning to wonder if he was making any progress at all. Several times groups of riders heading north passed him. The last one was the largest of all. Sam had found refuge high in some rocks and was surprised to see Lord Eomer and his beautiful sister, Lady Eowyn riding past, along with all the Rohirrim returning to their homes in Rohan.
He tried not to think of Frodo and the others back in the city. Sometimes he wondered if he had truly heard what he thought he had. Had Frodo really wished Sam gone? In his mind, Sam played the conversation over and over as if it had been permanently etched there. Each time, the pain was as sharp as ever. They were all probably relieved he was gone now, he thought morosely. At least now Frodo would no longer be reminded of the horrors that befell them in Mordor every time he looked at Sam. Sam held onto that belief to keep guilt at bay. He had nothing else.
He had been on his journey for a fortnight when he came to edge of a dark forest. The road passed through it, so he continued to follow its path. He was just so exhausted now. His sleep was still disrupted by nightmares that left him cold and shaking every night. He tried to sleep as little as possible, but many times his exhaustion and lack of food allowed him no choice. One night, he awoke abruptly, a cry of terror on his lips, a cold sweat covering his shivering body. He sat up and hugged himself miserably. He was freezing cold. He stood up trying to warm himself, but the bouts of shivering continued unabated. He also noticed that his limbs felt leaden and his joints ached. He refused to consider the possibility that he might be falling ill. "All you need is a nice hot cup o' tea and some stew to take the chill off your bones, Samwise Gamgee," he mumbled to himself, "Not that you're likely to get it in this forsaken place!" It must be near dawn, he thought to himself, the blackness between the trees was easing into soft grays. "Might as well get going," he sighed, his teeth chattering. He simply couldn't get warm.
He stumbled along the dark road, his mind replaying the nightmare again and again. Frodo was dead, Shelob and the Orcs stood around him laughing cruelly while Sam stood frozen, unable to move. Then, the monstrous, bloated spider turned her malevolent, glowing eyes towards Sam. Still, the Hobbit could not move, even as the menacing spider slowly approached him and its huge pincers purposefully closed around his head, the orcs' laughter still ringing in his ears. "No!" Sam cried, coming to himself for a moment, but the fever was upon him now, and with it, the dreams. He couldn't escape. He was trapped in the horrors of Mordor forever. It wasn't long before Sam's legs finally gave out, and he collapsed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo," he moaned, tears coursing down his haggard face. "I failed you. Please forgive me." His last conscious thoughts were of Frodo smiling in his arms on the slopes of Mt. Doom. As the merciful blackness overtook him, Sam silently whispered good-bye to his master. The unconscious hobbit then slid gracelessly down the slope along the side of the road, disappearing into the tall grass below. No passing traveler would see him now.
But someone passing did spy him. Hertig, a messenger from Minas Tirith, was cantering along in the early morning light making his way back to his home in Edoras. He had some messages from King Elessar to the new king of Rohan, King Eomer. He was eager to reach his home and reunite with his wife and children. It seemed a year since he had last seen them. He was thinking of this pleasant reunion when abruptly, his magnificent chestnut stallion, Manelys, halted in the road, refusing to move further. Frowning, Hertig dismounted and carefully inspected each of Manelys' hooves for imbedded stones. He seemed perfectly fine. Impatiently, the horse snorted, shaking his massive head. He then turned and looked over the side of the road.
Puzzled at his horse's behavior, Hertig cautiously made his way down the slope toward the bottom. At first he saw nothing, but soon he made out an odd rasping noise. Pulling his sword from its scabbard, he silently crept towards the noise. It wasn't until he almost stepped on the small form before him, that he realized someone was there, concealed in the tall grass. "A child?" he whispered in confusion. Quickly, he knelt down and gently turned the body over. No, not a child! A halfling! He was well acquainted with the small men after spending time with Merry and seeing the other hobbits in Minas Tirith. He thought for just a moment before it dawned on him that this must be the missing hobbit, the one the entire city of Minas Tirith had turned out to search for. How and why had he come to be so far away?
He looked at Sam with concern. It was apparent that the hobbit had not been eating; his skin felt papery and was pulled tight against the angular bones of his face. He was gaunt and wasted. Hertig laid his hand upon the Hobbit's brow and frowned at the heat there. The hobbit was obviously very ill. Hertig sat back on his heels for a moment as he considered his options. King Elessar and the Ringbearer, Frodo Baggins, had both been beside themselves with worry over their lost friend. He knew they would wish to know immediately that he had been found. Yet, the halfling was in no condition for a long ride back to Minas Tirith at present. No, the only choice was to take the hobbit with him to Edoras where he could be nursed back to health. Then, he could be returned safely to his companions.
Nodding, Hertig removed his cloak and gently wrapped the ill hobbit within its warm folds. He gave Manelys a rueful smile as he approached the waiting horse. "I should have known to trust your instincts, my friend," he said, stroking the horse's soft nose. "You have just saved one of the Heroes of Middle Earth!" The massive horse snorted and tossed his head. Hertig laid Sam across Manelys' saddle before swinging up behind. Then, cradling Sam securely in his arms, Hertig urged Manelys on towards the city of Edoras.
It took several more days before Hertig and his charge reached the city. King Eomer had returned just a week before and things were still being put to rights and the country was in mourning for the loss of their beloved king, Theoden. Hertig entered the city and followed a narrow road as it wound through the town before he finally reached a small thatched house. "Papa!" a small boy came hurtling through the door as Hertig carefully dismounted, Sam still firmly in his grasp. The hobbit had not improved at all during their journey and Hertig feared he would die before they reached the city. He had worked hard to get small portions of beef broth down Sam's throat to provide him with much needed nourishment and fluids. Still, the hobbit was caught in the throes of fever-fed nightmares and his small body was rapidly wasting away.
The small boy was dancing around his father now, delighted to see him home at long last. A moment later, he was joined by a woman carrying a tiny girl in her arms. "Hertig!" she cried joyfully hurrying towards him, her face wreathed in smiles. She stopped with a frown when she spied the bundle in her husband's arms. "What is this?" she asked in surprise.
"This is a halfling," he replied quietly gazing down at the haggard face just visible in the folds of the cloak. "He is very ill and needs immediate care." Hertig's wife, Helveg nodded and with a businesslike air, turned and led the way back into the cottage. Hertig gently placed Sam on the small bed in a back room and turned to Helveg. "Can you help him?"
Helveg was a skilled healer and well known in Edoras for her abilities to aid the sick. She handed her daughter to Hertig, then approached the Hobbit, pulling the coverings from his face and body. He was burning with fever and obviously malnourished. There were no wounds that she could detect. Mentally, she began going through her stock of herbs and tinctures. She turned again to her husband. "I will do what I can for him, "she said simply and went to work.
Hertig turned and left the room. His own elderly mother, Bertah, sat in a chair by the fire knitting. She looked at her tall son and smiled her warm, toothless grin. Hertig returned the smile, then handing the child to her, lifted his son into the air. "Have you been a good boy, Eldred?" he asked laughing.
"Oh, yes, Papa!" replied the boy in delight, his bright blue eyes shining with joy. "I have helped mama and chased away the orcs and kept everyone safe!" Hertig laughed again and gently swung his son back to earth.
Turning to his mother, Hertig said, "I must go to the King, I have messages from Minas Tirith that must be delivered. Tell Helveg I will return as soon as I am able." The old woman looked up from her granddaughter's silvery blonde head and nodded. A moment later, Hertig was gone.
After taking care of Manelys and settling him into his stable, Hertig hurried up the hill to Meduseld, the Golden Hall of the kings of Rohan. He was quickly admitted when he displayed his messages bearing King Elessar's seal and was led before King Eomer. "Greetings, Hertig!" smiled the new king. Eomer and Hertig had ridden in many campaigns together and knew each other well.
"Greetings, my lord," replied Hertig with a formal bow, but his eyes were smiling when he gazed upon his old friend. "I bring you messages from King Elessar." Hertig stepped forward and placed the pouch containing the scrolls into the king's hand.
"Ah," smiled Eomer as he quickly skimmed over the first document, "It seems our new king will wed sooner than we had hoped!" He looked up at Hertig, but was surprised by the worried look on his face.
"Is something amiss, Hertig?" Eomer asked frowning.
"My lord," replied the Rider, "I have news both good and ill. On my journey here, I came upon the missing hobbit, Samwise Gamgee. He is alive but unwell."
Eomer stared at him in confusion. "Samwise Gamgee?" he echoed. "Here?"
"Yes, my lord," Hertig nodded. "Manelys must have detected his scent for he halted in the road and would not venture further until I had scoured the area. I found the Ringbearer unconscious, hidden in the tall grass. I believe he would now be dead if we had not found him when we did."
"This is most strange," said Eomer slowly, fingering the parchment in his lap. For the life of him, he could not understand how the hobbit would come to be so far from Minas Tirith. "Has he spoken to you at all? Revealed anything of how he came to be here?"
Hertig shook his head. "No, my lord. He has not wakened since I found him. I have left him in the care of my good wife, Helveg."
Eomer nodded in approval. "That is good. If anyone can save Master Gamgee's life, it is your wife. I owe my own life to her able ministrations! I would send word to Minas Tirith that the missing halfling has been found, but I feel it would be best we wait til we know if he shall live or die."He was silent for a moment. "We owe our very existence to the efforts of that young halfling and his master," he said solemnly, "Keep me abreast of his progress. I would like to inform Elessar as soon as prudent of Master Gamgee's recovery."
"Yes, my lord." Hertig bowed again and gracefully exited the throne room. He was anxious to return home and help see to the welfare of his small charge.