Author's Note: Well guys, I think there is only one more chapter after this one, but I'm not absolutely positive. This chapter is considerably longer than the rest and I did consider dividing it into two, but decided I liked it best as one (plus, you guys have suffered through enough of my cliffhangers!). So, I hope you don't mind (I also hope it doesn't come across as too corny)!
Bronwyn: Here you go – Sam AND Frodo together again (sort of...)!
Laurajslr: I'm glad you liked the last chapter. As you know, sometimes you just need those kinds where not a whole lot happens, but you need to provide some continuity between events. I do try to make them interesting! I'm like you – I love reunion scenes!
RenaissanceGrrl: Yes, everyone should suffer, including the readers! Lol! I don't know, would people (i.e. this bloodthirsty lot) read fluffy Sam? I'm not sure I could write it. He'd start out all happy and cute, but then...an earthquake would destroy his home and Rosie would be kidnapped by orcs and then... well, you get the picture! Feel free to use "bridging chapter" all you like! Does indeed sound better than "filler"!
BloodRoses9: OK, I have REALLY tried to redeem Frodo in your eyes here! Maybe he's not Frodo the Big and Brave Butt-Kicking Hobbit, but he does try! LOL!
Bookworm2000: I hope this chapter appeases you a little! I also figured Rosie was not going to sit around twiddling her thumbs if she could help!
Arwen Baggins: This chapter will tell you what Rosie was up to! No need to wait any longer!
Baileymag: I really am so pleased that you like my story (blush)! You guys are the ones that make it so much fun to write! I try to keep them interesting and I'm glad you didn't find this last chapter boring. As for your request, well, you'll just have to keep reading.
Szhismine; And here's another loooong update! Hope you enjoy it!
Frodo Freak2: Woohoo! Welcome back! Wow, I made you cry!? I'm impressed! LOL! Thank you so much for you great review – you guys really are the best! (blushes again)
Janna Hawkins: Here is story of nasssty fat hobbit and Master! Go hobbitses! Hope it doesn't drive you back to Sauron!
Sam: You don't have to wait til the next chapter. To be honest, I don't really plan on spending time on Merry and Pippin's military adventures. Just pretend it's pretty much as Tolkien wrote it!
Well guys, here it is, the long chapter and I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 32 The Execution of Samwise Gamgee
Sam was slumped in the far corner of the shed. He was tied up now after repeatedly trying to attack Ferny. Granted, his attempts were weak and ineffectual, but Ferny grew weary of having to watch for them. Finally, Ferny struck Sam savagely across the face, stunning the feeble hobbit, then tied him up. But Sam refused to admit defeat. A deep rage burned inside him and he ignored his pain. He cursed his weak and battered body. He thought of all the terrible things he would do to Ferny and Sandyman and Saruman if ever got free. But, most of all, he worried about Rosie. It ate at him to think of her wed to that despicable miller, but what could he do to prevent it?
He sighed, wincing in pain. Maybe Mr. Frodo and the others would come soon, he though dismally. Maybe they could put things to rights. But, would they come in time? His time was almost up. Suddenly, his attention was drawn to loud, angry voices outside followed by a persistent knocking on the door. With an aggravated groan, Ferny lurched to his feet and unsteadily made his way to the door. Another man stood there staring at him.
Sam leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed as he listened to the conversation. Excitement began to build within him as he took in the other man's words. Mr. Frodo and the others were coming and they were fighting back! Maybe all was not lost. If only they could get to Hobbiton before it was too late! Sam's eyes snapped open as Ferny slammed the door shut. The man stood there glaring at Sam through bloodshot eyes.
"Guess yer little friends are makin' it back after all," he snarled stumbling towards Sam. He leaned closer to the hobbit. Sam shrank from the man's foul breath. "But, the Boss wants you strung up before they get here," he continued, "So, soon's the sun's up, you and me will go on a little walk to the Mill. Yer fren' Happy or whatever his name was, is pinin' fer some comp'ny!" With a harsh laugh, Ferny staggered back to his chair, collapsing into it. He took a swig from his nearly empty bottle, then searched a sack for some food. It wouldn't be long now.
The sun was well above the horizon when Ferny finally pulled himself together enough to get about his task. His head was pounding, but he wouldn't let that get in the way of his fun. He glanced over to the hobbit in the corner. Sam had been silent for some time now, although his eyes spoke volumes. Ferny had no doubt the hobbit would do him serious harm if given half a chance. But, that chance would never come, the ruffian thought with gloating satisfaction. He reached down to his sack again and pulled out a length of rope. With experienced hands, he quickly fashioned the end into a hangman's noose. He gave Sam a leering grin.
"Guess it's time, Sammy-lad," Ferny declared getting to his feet. Sam just glared at him. Ferny stepped over to the bound hobbit and stooped down. Using his knife, he cut the bonds around Sam's legs. "I ain't carrying you to the Mill, rat," he said. "Frankly, I'd be happy to hang ye from th' first tree we find, but the Boss wants you front and center where everyone can see. So, we walk." He reached down, grabbed Sam by the shirt and pulled him to his feet.
Sam gasped in pain fighting back a cry. Every little movement was excruciating, but he refused to give Ferny the satisfaction of showing how much he hurt. He stood unsteadily for a moment feeling the word reeling about him. Nausea rose in his throat, but he fought it down. Not that there was anything in his stomach, he thought. He couldn't even remember the last time he had had anything to eat or drink. His mouth was a dry as cotton.
Ferny studied him a moment in disgust. This would never do. The stupid creature could barely stand, let alone walk. Ferny reached over to a nearby bucket and brought up a dipper of water. Roughly, he poured some into Sam's parched mouth. Sam gulped it down greedily, grateful for even the smallest relief. A few more dippers of water seemed to revive Sam somewhat and he felt a bit steadier on his feet. "All right," Ferny said finally, "Let's go."
Sam's hands were tied behind him and in his weak and injured condition, he frequently stumbled and would have fallen had not Ferny grabbed onto him. Sam tried to take in his surroundings, his last looks at his beloved home, but Ferny hustled him along and the journey was primarily a blur of pain and brief images.
It seemed to take a lifetime before they finally reached the Mill. Sam was panting heavily, his body bathed in sweat. The only thing keeping Sam on his feet was Ferny's firm grasp on his arm. "Well, Master Gamgee," said Ferny softly as they gazed up at Jolly's body swinging above them. "Looks like yer time has come." Several men, left to guard the Mill, were lounging lazily around the Mill's doors. They watched with interest as Ferny dragged Sam up the steps to the loading dock.
"Hang 'im high, Ferny!" called one of the men with a laugh, "Show them Halflings what 'appens to them what fights back!" The others shouted their agreement and gathered closer. They were eager for the show.
Ferny smiled and waved, then looking down at Sam, gave the hobbit a small, triumphant grin as he lowered the noose over Sam's head. A moment later, he had the rope over the beam above them and Sam's eyes widened as he felt the noose tighten around his throat. The men cheered enthusiastically. Ferny turned and looked down at them with a grin and a small bow.
"By order of the Chief of the Shirriffs, Lotho Sackville-Baggins," he announced, "It has been decreed that this outlaw, Samwise Gamgee, shall be hung by the neck until he is dead!" Again the men cheered.
Sam stood silent, his face white. "Good-bye, Dad," he thought as he ran down the list of his loved ones. "Good-by, Rosie. I'm sorry I failed you." Tears burned in his eyes, but he blinked them away. Finally, he thought of Frodo. Dear Mr. Frodo, his beloved master. He had tried so hard to keep Frodo from his thoughts. Sam had desperately hoped that when Frodo returned to the Shire, perhaps they could set things to rights and everything could be the same between them once more. But, it was too late for that now. The next time Frodo would see Sam, the faithful gardener would be hanging from the gallows. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Frodo," he whispered silently. "Please forgive me."
With those words, Sam gasped in pain and shock as he felt his feet leave the ground and the rough surface of the rope bit into his neck. Behind him, Ferny was hauling on the rope. There was no trap door or quick snap of the neck. Sam's death would be slow and agonizing. Ferny smiled as he tied off the rope. The men cheered as they listened to Sam's desperately gasping for air.
"Stop!" A clear voice rang out from behind Ferny and he whirled to find Frodo stepping through a small access door in the wall, Sting glittering dangerously in his hand. "Cut him down now!" Frodo's eyes were cold and deadly.
Even hung-over, Ferny could be quick. Without warning, he leaped at Frodo, but just as quickly, his snarl of rage turned into a howl of pain as Sting sliced through his leg. He collapsed, blood flowing through his fingers as he grasped his injured limb. However, he still stood between Frodo and the rope. Sam's strangled cries were becoming progressively weaker.
The other men had stood gaping in surprise at this unexpected turn of events, but with Ferny's collapse they cried out in anger and surged towards the steps. Ferny had his knife in hand now and waved it wildly keeping Frodo at bay. Frodo looked up and saw Sam's face was turning an alarming shade of purple although he still struggled. Frodo's desperation to save his friend was almost overwhelming now and with his own scream of fury swung Sting into Ferny's shoulder knocking the man squealing in pain and surprise off the platform. But the other men were there now, advancing menacingly as they kept their eyes on the glittering blade. There were six of them; far more than Frodo could handle alone, but he would not admit defeat.
All of a sudden, his attention wavered as he heard someone call his name. He glanced briefly to the side and almost shouted in joy and relief as he saw a group of perhaps 20 hobbits, armed with clubs and assorted weapons running towards them with Rosie in the lead. The men turned in astonishment as the mob approached them. It was in that moment that Frodo dashed forward, slicing through the rope holding Sam. The suspended hobbit dropped to the ground with a sickening thud. The men, not about to be scared off by a bunch of Halflings, had descended from platform and fiercely attacked the armed hobbits. However, the hobbits were not so easily defeated and fought back with a ferocity that surprised even them. It was soon over and the men lay dead on the ground.
Frodo frantically pulled the rope from around Sam's neck. The tender skin was torn and bruised, but even worse, Sam was not breathing. "Sam!" Frodo cried desperately shaking him, "Sam, it's me! Frodo!" He barely noticed when Rosie joined him, tears running freely down her flushed face.
"Is he dead, Mr. Frodo?" she cried in horror, "Please, don't tell me we were too late!"
Frozen with despair, Frodo stared for a moment at Sam's battered, discolored face. "Oh Sam!" he cried gently pushing Sam's matted hair from his brow, "What did they do to you?" Then, in an unexpected flash of memory, he recalled how one of the Brandybuck children had nearly drowned a few years past. He and Merry had been the only ones around and Merry quickly showed Frodo how to breathe life back into the child's tiny body. It didn't always work, Merry told Frodo later, but as the Brandybucks spent more time on and around water than any other group of hobbits, they found this method more effective than most. Without a further thought, Frodo gently tilted Sam's head back, and taking a deep breath, attempted to fill Sam's lungs with life-giving air.
The other hobbits had gathered around now, watching anxiously. Sam's two brothers were there and their faces were pale with shock. Again and again Frodo filled Sam's lungs while Rosie pleaded to him to come back to them. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Sam gave a small, rasping gasp, followed by another and then another, each a bit deeper than the last. Frodo sat back on heels and almost wept with relief as the congested, purple hue gradually faded from Sam's face. The other hobbits all cheered and thumped each other in joy, Sam's brothers the loudest of them all. Rosie threw herself on a surprised Frodo and kissed him firmly on the cheek. "You've saved him, Mr. Frodo!" she cried, "You've saved him!"
Frodo looked down at Sam again then leaned over quickly as he noticed his friend's eyes flickering open. Barely conscious, Sam's eyes settled in disbelief on Frodo's affectionate grin. "Hullo, Samwise Gamgee," said Frodo softly. "So this is what happens when I'm not around to look after you!" Sam replied with a faint grin, then lapsed back into unconsciousness.
"We must get him to a doctor!" said Rosie urgently. Frodo nodded. He took off his faithful Lothlorien cloak and gently wrapped Sam in its soft folds. Frodo reached down to try and lift Sam when he felt a strong hand touch his shoulder. Sam's oldest brother, Hamson stood beside him now.
"Please, Mr. Frodo," said the sturdy rope-maker, "Let me." Frodo looked into Hamson's worried face and stepped aside. With seemingly no effort at all, Hamson lifted his young brother's frail and battered body cradling him with unexpected tenderness.
"My house is closest," said Rosie, "We can take him there."
"I'll go for the doctor!" cried one of the other hobbits and darted away. Hamson nodded, his brother Halfred close by, and they followed Rosie to the South Lane.
Mrs. Cotton met them at the door, her face creased in worry. "Oh Sam!" she exclaimed, then led Hamson to a small downstairs bedroom where he gently lay Sam on the bed. He backed off a few steps while Mrs. Cotton bent over Sam. "Rosie!" she cried all business now that there was work to be done. "Get me some hot water and some clean cloths. Let's get him cleaned up for the doctor."
Frodo and Sam's brothers clustered outside the doorway, trying to keep out of the way. Mrs. Cotton worked swiftly and by the time the doctor arrived a short while later, she had the worst of the dirt cleaned away. Dr. P. Smallburrow had been Hobbiton's only doctor for many years but rarely had been faced with such a daunting task as he faced now.
His face was grim as he examined Sam's many injuries and ravaged throat. Frodo watched tensely as the doctor applied various ointments and salves, bandaged and splinted, wrapped and stitched. At long last, he stood up, wiping the sweat from his brow. Mrs. Cotton brought him a pail of water to wash up in. The doctor smiled wearily in thanks.
Frodo could be still no longer. "How is he, Doctor?" he blurted, his eyes studying the doctor's somber face. Sam's brothers and the Cottons drew closer.
Doctor Smallburrow sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Well, Frodo," he began, "Sam's in pretty bad shape. His neck is a mess and it'll be some time before he'll be able to move it much or swallow solids. Talking won't come easy neither. He's got broken ribs, bruises on top o' bruises, and his back reminds me of a flayed fish. No tellin' how bad the internal injuries are, but the good thing is, he's alive and Gamgees are tough to kill." Halfred and Hamson grinned at each other. "He's badly dehydrated, has lost a lot o' blood and doesn't look like he's eaten regular in a long time." He sighed again and turned to Mrs. Cotton.
"He's going to need a lot of nursing these next few weeks," he warned her. "He's not out of the woods by a long shot. But, I've done all I can for now. I'll stop in again later and see how he's faring. Don't hesitate to call me if he takes turn for the worse." Settling his hat on his head, the doctor picked up his bag and turned to Frodo. "Good to see you back home, Frodo," he said. "Heard tell that Merry and Pippin on are their way as well." He smiled. "Bout time you lads got here!" Then, with a few last minute instructions to Mrs. Cotton and Rosie, he took his leave.
Hamfast and Halfred said they would check back later, but they were eager to get back into the fight against the ruffians. Frodo nodded. He would not leave Sam's side. He had no heart for fighting and decided he would wait for Merry and Pippin in the Cotton's farmhouse.
He and Rosie took turns sitting beside Sam in the tiny room, although neither ventured far. Mrs. Cotton made sure Frodo ate something. "You've had no sleep and little to eat," she scolded him. "You don't want to get sick do you? Sam's depending on you!" With a small smile of resignation, Frodo gave in and quickly devoured some of Mrs. Cotton's famous rabbit stew.
Night was falling when they heard triumphant shouts and cries of excitement. Frodo hurried to the door and out to the lane. At the head of a line of cheering hobbits rode none other than Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck, the newly acclaimed military geniuses of the Shire. "Frodo!" exclaimed Merry joyfully, "We've defeated them! The men are on the run and the Shire is ours!" The hobbits cheered again.
Frodo grinned up at his cousins. They were clearly in their element and basking in the unaccustomed glory. "All hail the conquering heroes!" returned Frodo stepping closer to the horses. Merry slid off his, quickly followed by Pippin and with shouts of laughter, the three cousins embraced in relief and joy.
When they stepped apart, Merry's grew serious. "We heard you were able to rescue Sam at the very last moment," he said quietly. "How is he?"
Frodo sighed. "He's in a bad way, Merry," he replied, "But, you know how strong he is. If he could survive Mordor, he can survive this. Come along and you can see him." Merry and Pippin removed their helmets and followed Frodo into the Cotton farmhouse. Rosie and her mother became unusually flustered at the sight of Merry and Pippin in their impressive array of armor.
The three companions stood in the doorway peering in sorrow at Sam's bruised and bandaged face and listening to his harsh, labored breathing. "Hardly even looks like him," observed Pippin in dismay. "You say that Bill Ferny from Bree did this?"
Frodo nodded, his lips pressed tightly in anger. "Yes. I heard he was killed earlier today when the hobbits here came to our rescue. I truly wanted no killing here, but I cannot in all honesty feel any grief at that scoundrel's death."
Merry stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Sam's brow. "We've been hearing some rather impressive tales about old Sam here," he said with a bemused smile. He turned to Frodo. "The hobbits here say he's a real hero. He led a band of rebels who stole back their crops from the ruffians and made sure they didn't starve. He burned bridges and apparently caused all kinds of problems for the Chief and Sharkey. They've even started making songs and stories about him!"
Frodo laughed quietly. "That would please Sam very much indeed! I think the world is finally learning what I have known about Sam for these many months. He is a most brave and noble hobbit. I just hope it hasn't cost him his life." He stood silently know, gazing mournfully at his friend.
Merry and Pippin exchanged glances. Merry cleared his throat. "Thought you might like to know that we've got that Sharkey fellow trapped in one of the sheds. Hasn't come out yet, though and there's been no sign of Lotho."
Frodo turned from Sam's sickroom and sat heavily on one of the kitchen chairs. "I do not believe we will find Lotho alive," he said dully. He looked at his cousins. "I do not suppose you have guessed the true identity of Sharkey?" Merry and Pippin stared at him blankly. Frodo gave a small laugh. "It's Saruman."
"Saruman!" cried Merry furiously. "Saruman? He did this? He destroyed the Shire and tried to kill Sam? I should have stuffed that tobacco pouch down his miserable throat!"
"Let's go kill him right now!" growled Pippin, his sword in his hand. "He certainly deserves it after all the misery he's caused!"
"We will go speak with him," replied Frodo in a drained voice, "But there's been enough killing." Frodo looked up as he realized that crowd of hobbits in the road had gone quiet and were staring at something down the road. He and his cousins stepped outside and peered past the crowd. They spied at two figures making their way towards the farmhouse; one carried a bundle in its arms. In time, Frodo made out the grim faces of the two Gamgee brothers and with a stab of pain, Frodo realized what Hamson carried in his strong arms. It was Jolly Cotton. They were bringing him home at last. .
Bronwyn: Here you go – Sam AND Frodo together again (sort of...)!
Laurajslr: I'm glad you liked the last chapter. As you know, sometimes you just need those kinds where not a whole lot happens, but you need to provide some continuity between events. I do try to make them interesting! I'm like you – I love reunion scenes!
RenaissanceGrrl: Yes, everyone should suffer, including the readers! Lol! I don't know, would people (i.e. this bloodthirsty lot) read fluffy Sam? I'm not sure I could write it. He'd start out all happy and cute, but then...an earthquake would destroy his home and Rosie would be kidnapped by orcs and then... well, you get the picture! Feel free to use "bridging chapter" all you like! Does indeed sound better than "filler"!
BloodRoses9: OK, I have REALLY tried to redeem Frodo in your eyes here! Maybe he's not Frodo the Big and Brave Butt-Kicking Hobbit, but he does try! LOL!
Bookworm2000: I hope this chapter appeases you a little! I also figured Rosie was not going to sit around twiddling her thumbs if she could help!
Arwen Baggins: This chapter will tell you what Rosie was up to! No need to wait any longer!
Baileymag: I really am so pleased that you like my story (blush)! You guys are the ones that make it so much fun to write! I try to keep them interesting and I'm glad you didn't find this last chapter boring. As for your request, well, you'll just have to keep reading.
Szhismine; And here's another loooong update! Hope you enjoy it!
Frodo Freak2: Woohoo! Welcome back! Wow, I made you cry!? I'm impressed! LOL! Thank you so much for you great review – you guys really are the best! (blushes again)
Janna Hawkins: Here is story of nasssty fat hobbit and Master! Go hobbitses! Hope it doesn't drive you back to Sauron!
Sam: You don't have to wait til the next chapter. To be honest, I don't really plan on spending time on Merry and Pippin's military adventures. Just pretend it's pretty much as Tolkien wrote it!
Well guys, here it is, the long chapter and I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 32 The Execution of Samwise Gamgee
Sam was slumped in the far corner of the shed. He was tied up now after repeatedly trying to attack Ferny. Granted, his attempts were weak and ineffectual, but Ferny grew weary of having to watch for them. Finally, Ferny struck Sam savagely across the face, stunning the feeble hobbit, then tied him up. But Sam refused to admit defeat. A deep rage burned inside him and he ignored his pain. He cursed his weak and battered body. He thought of all the terrible things he would do to Ferny and Sandyman and Saruman if ever got free. But, most of all, he worried about Rosie. It ate at him to think of her wed to that despicable miller, but what could he do to prevent it?
He sighed, wincing in pain. Maybe Mr. Frodo and the others would come soon, he though dismally. Maybe they could put things to rights. But, would they come in time? His time was almost up. Suddenly, his attention was drawn to loud, angry voices outside followed by a persistent knocking on the door. With an aggravated groan, Ferny lurched to his feet and unsteadily made his way to the door. Another man stood there staring at him.
Sam leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed as he listened to the conversation. Excitement began to build within him as he took in the other man's words. Mr. Frodo and the others were coming and they were fighting back! Maybe all was not lost. If only they could get to Hobbiton before it was too late! Sam's eyes snapped open as Ferny slammed the door shut. The man stood there glaring at Sam through bloodshot eyes.
"Guess yer little friends are makin' it back after all," he snarled stumbling towards Sam. He leaned closer to the hobbit. Sam shrank from the man's foul breath. "But, the Boss wants you strung up before they get here," he continued, "So, soon's the sun's up, you and me will go on a little walk to the Mill. Yer fren' Happy or whatever his name was, is pinin' fer some comp'ny!" With a harsh laugh, Ferny staggered back to his chair, collapsing into it. He took a swig from his nearly empty bottle, then searched a sack for some food. It wouldn't be long now.
The sun was well above the horizon when Ferny finally pulled himself together enough to get about his task. His head was pounding, but he wouldn't let that get in the way of his fun. He glanced over to the hobbit in the corner. Sam had been silent for some time now, although his eyes spoke volumes. Ferny had no doubt the hobbit would do him serious harm if given half a chance. But, that chance would never come, the ruffian thought with gloating satisfaction. He reached down to his sack again and pulled out a length of rope. With experienced hands, he quickly fashioned the end into a hangman's noose. He gave Sam a leering grin.
"Guess it's time, Sammy-lad," Ferny declared getting to his feet. Sam just glared at him. Ferny stepped over to the bound hobbit and stooped down. Using his knife, he cut the bonds around Sam's legs. "I ain't carrying you to the Mill, rat," he said. "Frankly, I'd be happy to hang ye from th' first tree we find, but the Boss wants you front and center where everyone can see. So, we walk." He reached down, grabbed Sam by the shirt and pulled him to his feet.
Sam gasped in pain fighting back a cry. Every little movement was excruciating, but he refused to give Ferny the satisfaction of showing how much he hurt. He stood unsteadily for a moment feeling the word reeling about him. Nausea rose in his throat, but he fought it down. Not that there was anything in his stomach, he thought. He couldn't even remember the last time he had had anything to eat or drink. His mouth was a dry as cotton.
Ferny studied him a moment in disgust. This would never do. The stupid creature could barely stand, let alone walk. Ferny reached over to a nearby bucket and brought up a dipper of water. Roughly, he poured some into Sam's parched mouth. Sam gulped it down greedily, grateful for even the smallest relief. A few more dippers of water seemed to revive Sam somewhat and he felt a bit steadier on his feet. "All right," Ferny said finally, "Let's go."
Sam's hands were tied behind him and in his weak and injured condition, he frequently stumbled and would have fallen had not Ferny grabbed onto him. Sam tried to take in his surroundings, his last looks at his beloved home, but Ferny hustled him along and the journey was primarily a blur of pain and brief images.
It seemed to take a lifetime before they finally reached the Mill. Sam was panting heavily, his body bathed in sweat. The only thing keeping Sam on his feet was Ferny's firm grasp on his arm. "Well, Master Gamgee," said Ferny softly as they gazed up at Jolly's body swinging above them. "Looks like yer time has come." Several men, left to guard the Mill, were lounging lazily around the Mill's doors. They watched with interest as Ferny dragged Sam up the steps to the loading dock.
"Hang 'im high, Ferny!" called one of the men with a laugh, "Show them Halflings what 'appens to them what fights back!" The others shouted their agreement and gathered closer. They were eager for the show.
Ferny smiled and waved, then looking down at Sam, gave the hobbit a small, triumphant grin as he lowered the noose over Sam's head. A moment later, he had the rope over the beam above them and Sam's eyes widened as he felt the noose tighten around his throat. The men cheered enthusiastically. Ferny turned and looked down at them with a grin and a small bow.
"By order of the Chief of the Shirriffs, Lotho Sackville-Baggins," he announced, "It has been decreed that this outlaw, Samwise Gamgee, shall be hung by the neck until he is dead!" Again the men cheered.
Sam stood silent, his face white. "Good-bye, Dad," he thought as he ran down the list of his loved ones. "Good-by, Rosie. I'm sorry I failed you." Tears burned in his eyes, but he blinked them away. Finally, he thought of Frodo. Dear Mr. Frodo, his beloved master. He had tried so hard to keep Frodo from his thoughts. Sam had desperately hoped that when Frodo returned to the Shire, perhaps they could set things to rights and everything could be the same between them once more. But, it was too late for that now. The next time Frodo would see Sam, the faithful gardener would be hanging from the gallows. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Frodo," he whispered silently. "Please forgive me."
With those words, Sam gasped in pain and shock as he felt his feet leave the ground and the rough surface of the rope bit into his neck. Behind him, Ferny was hauling on the rope. There was no trap door or quick snap of the neck. Sam's death would be slow and agonizing. Ferny smiled as he tied off the rope. The men cheered as they listened to Sam's desperately gasping for air.
"Stop!" A clear voice rang out from behind Ferny and he whirled to find Frodo stepping through a small access door in the wall, Sting glittering dangerously in his hand. "Cut him down now!" Frodo's eyes were cold and deadly.
Even hung-over, Ferny could be quick. Without warning, he leaped at Frodo, but just as quickly, his snarl of rage turned into a howl of pain as Sting sliced through his leg. He collapsed, blood flowing through his fingers as he grasped his injured limb. However, he still stood between Frodo and the rope. Sam's strangled cries were becoming progressively weaker.
The other men had stood gaping in surprise at this unexpected turn of events, but with Ferny's collapse they cried out in anger and surged towards the steps. Ferny had his knife in hand now and waved it wildly keeping Frodo at bay. Frodo looked up and saw Sam's face was turning an alarming shade of purple although he still struggled. Frodo's desperation to save his friend was almost overwhelming now and with his own scream of fury swung Sting into Ferny's shoulder knocking the man squealing in pain and surprise off the platform. But the other men were there now, advancing menacingly as they kept their eyes on the glittering blade. There were six of them; far more than Frodo could handle alone, but he would not admit defeat.
All of a sudden, his attention wavered as he heard someone call his name. He glanced briefly to the side and almost shouted in joy and relief as he saw a group of perhaps 20 hobbits, armed with clubs and assorted weapons running towards them with Rosie in the lead. The men turned in astonishment as the mob approached them. It was in that moment that Frodo dashed forward, slicing through the rope holding Sam. The suspended hobbit dropped to the ground with a sickening thud. The men, not about to be scared off by a bunch of Halflings, had descended from platform and fiercely attacked the armed hobbits. However, the hobbits were not so easily defeated and fought back with a ferocity that surprised even them. It was soon over and the men lay dead on the ground.
Frodo frantically pulled the rope from around Sam's neck. The tender skin was torn and bruised, but even worse, Sam was not breathing. "Sam!" Frodo cried desperately shaking him, "Sam, it's me! Frodo!" He barely noticed when Rosie joined him, tears running freely down her flushed face.
"Is he dead, Mr. Frodo?" she cried in horror, "Please, don't tell me we were too late!"
Frozen with despair, Frodo stared for a moment at Sam's battered, discolored face. "Oh Sam!" he cried gently pushing Sam's matted hair from his brow, "What did they do to you?" Then, in an unexpected flash of memory, he recalled how one of the Brandybuck children had nearly drowned a few years past. He and Merry had been the only ones around and Merry quickly showed Frodo how to breathe life back into the child's tiny body. It didn't always work, Merry told Frodo later, but as the Brandybucks spent more time on and around water than any other group of hobbits, they found this method more effective than most. Without a further thought, Frodo gently tilted Sam's head back, and taking a deep breath, attempted to fill Sam's lungs with life-giving air.
The other hobbits had gathered around now, watching anxiously. Sam's two brothers were there and their faces were pale with shock. Again and again Frodo filled Sam's lungs while Rosie pleaded to him to come back to them. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Sam gave a small, rasping gasp, followed by another and then another, each a bit deeper than the last. Frodo sat back on heels and almost wept with relief as the congested, purple hue gradually faded from Sam's face. The other hobbits all cheered and thumped each other in joy, Sam's brothers the loudest of them all. Rosie threw herself on a surprised Frodo and kissed him firmly on the cheek. "You've saved him, Mr. Frodo!" she cried, "You've saved him!"
Frodo looked down at Sam again then leaned over quickly as he noticed his friend's eyes flickering open. Barely conscious, Sam's eyes settled in disbelief on Frodo's affectionate grin. "Hullo, Samwise Gamgee," said Frodo softly. "So this is what happens when I'm not around to look after you!" Sam replied with a faint grin, then lapsed back into unconsciousness.
"We must get him to a doctor!" said Rosie urgently. Frodo nodded. He took off his faithful Lothlorien cloak and gently wrapped Sam in its soft folds. Frodo reached down to try and lift Sam when he felt a strong hand touch his shoulder. Sam's oldest brother, Hamson stood beside him now.
"Please, Mr. Frodo," said the sturdy rope-maker, "Let me." Frodo looked into Hamson's worried face and stepped aside. With seemingly no effort at all, Hamson lifted his young brother's frail and battered body cradling him with unexpected tenderness.
"My house is closest," said Rosie, "We can take him there."
"I'll go for the doctor!" cried one of the other hobbits and darted away. Hamson nodded, his brother Halfred close by, and they followed Rosie to the South Lane.
Mrs. Cotton met them at the door, her face creased in worry. "Oh Sam!" she exclaimed, then led Hamson to a small downstairs bedroom where he gently lay Sam on the bed. He backed off a few steps while Mrs. Cotton bent over Sam. "Rosie!" she cried all business now that there was work to be done. "Get me some hot water and some clean cloths. Let's get him cleaned up for the doctor."
Frodo and Sam's brothers clustered outside the doorway, trying to keep out of the way. Mrs. Cotton worked swiftly and by the time the doctor arrived a short while later, she had the worst of the dirt cleaned away. Dr. P. Smallburrow had been Hobbiton's only doctor for many years but rarely had been faced with such a daunting task as he faced now.
His face was grim as he examined Sam's many injuries and ravaged throat. Frodo watched tensely as the doctor applied various ointments and salves, bandaged and splinted, wrapped and stitched. At long last, he stood up, wiping the sweat from his brow. Mrs. Cotton brought him a pail of water to wash up in. The doctor smiled wearily in thanks.
Frodo could be still no longer. "How is he, Doctor?" he blurted, his eyes studying the doctor's somber face. Sam's brothers and the Cottons drew closer.
Doctor Smallburrow sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Well, Frodo," he began, "Sam's in pretty bad shape. His neck is a mess and it'll be some time before he'll be able to move it much or swallow solids. Talking won't come easy neither. He's got broken ribs, bruises on top o' bruises, and his back reminds me of a flayed fish. No tellin' how bad the internal injuries are, but the good thing is, he's alive and Gamgees are tough to kill." Halfred and Hamson grinned at each other. "He's badly dehydrated, has lost a lot o' blood and doesn't look like he's eaten regular in a long time." He sighed again and turned to Mrs. Cotton.
"He's going to need a lot of nursing these next few weeks," he warned her. "He's not out of the woods by a long shot. But, I've done all I can for now. I'll stop in again later and see how he's faring. Don't hesitate to call me if he takes turn for the worse." Settling his hat on his head, the doctor picked up his bag and turned to Frodo. "Good to see you back home, Frodo," he said. "Heard tell that Merry and Pippin on are their way as well." He smiled. "Bout time you lads got here!" Then, with a few last minute instructions to Mrs. Cotton and Rosie, he took his leave.
Hamfast and Halfred said they would check back later, but they were eager to get back into the fight against the ruffians. Frodo nodded. He would not leave Sam's side. He had no heart for fighting and decided he would wait for Merry and Pippin in the Cotton's farmhouse.
He and Rosie took turns sitting beside Sam in the tiny room, although neither ventured far. Mrs. Cotton made sure Frodo ate something. "You've had no sleep and little to eat," she scolded him. "You don't want to get sick do you? Sam's depending on you!" With a small smile of resignation, Frodo gave in and quickly devoured some of Mrs. Cotton's famous rabbit stew.
Night was falling when they heard triumphant shouts and cries of excitement. Frodo hurried to the door and out to the lane. At the head of a line of cheering hobbits rode none other than Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck, the newly acclaimed military geniuses of the Shire. "Frodo!" exclaimed Merry joyfully, "We've defeated them! The men are on the run and the Shire is ours!" The hobbits cheered again.
Frodo grinned up at his cousins. They were clearly in their element and basking in the unaccustomed glory. "All hail the conquering heroes!" returned Frodo stepping closer to the horses. Merry slid off his, quickly followed by Pippin and with shouts of laughter, the three cousins embraced in relief and joy.
When they stepped apart, Merry's grew serious. "We heard you were able to rescue Sam at the very last moment," he said quietly. "How is he?"
Frodo sighed. "He's in a bad way, Merry," he replied, "But, you know how strong he is. If he could survive Mordor, he can survive this. Come along and you can see him." Merry and Pippin removed their helmets and followed Frodo into the Cotton farmhouse. Rosie and her mother became unusually flustered at the sight of Merry and Pippin in their impressive array of armor.
The three companions stood in the doorway peering in sorrow at Sam's bruised and bandaged face and listening to his harsh, labored breathing. "Hardly even looks like him," observed Pippin in dismay. "You say that Bill Ferny from Bree did this?"
Frodo nodded, his lips pressed tightly in anger. "Yes. I heard he was killed earlier today when the hobbits here came to our rescue. I truly wanted no killing here, but I cannot in all honesty feel any grief at that scoundrel's death."
Merry stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Sam's brow. "We've been hearing some rather impressive tales about old Sam here," he said with a bemused smile. He turned to Frodo. "The hobbits here say he's a real hero. He led a band of rebels who stole back their crops from the ruffians and made sure they didn't starve. He burned bridges and apparently caused all kinds of problems for the Chief and Sharkey. They've even started making songs and stories about him!"
Frodo laughed quietly. "That would please Sam very much indeed! I think the world is finally learning what I have known about Sam for these many months. He is a most brave and noble hobbit. I just hope it hasn't cost him his life." He stood silently know, gazing mournfully at his friend.
Merry and Pippin exchanged glances. Merry cleared his throat. "Thought you might like to know that we've got that Sharkey fellow trapped in one of the sheds. Hasn't come out yet, though and there's been no sign of Lotho."
Frodo turned from Sam's sickroom and sat heavily on one of the kitchen chairs. "I do not believe we will find Lotho alive," he said dully. He looked at his cousins. "I do not suppose you have guessed the true identity of Sharkey?" Merry and Pippin stared at him blankly. Frodo gave a small laugh. "It's Saruman."
"Saruman!" cried Merry furiously. "Saruman? He did this? He destroyed the Shire and tried to kill Sam? I should have stuffed that tobacco pouch down his miserable throat!"
"Let's go kill him right now!" growled Pippin, his sword in his hand. "He certainly deserves it after all the misery he's caused!"
"We will go speak with him," replied Frodo in a drained voice, "But there's been enough killing." Frodo looked up as he realized that crowd of hobbits in the road had gone quiet and were staring at something down the road. He and his cousins stepped outside and peered past the crowd. They spied at two figures making their way towards the farmhouse; one carried a bundle in its arms. In time, Frodo made out the grim faces of the two Gamgee brothers and with a stab of pain, Frodo realized what Hamson carried in his strong arms. It was Jolly Cotton. They were bringing him home at last. .