Chapter 3 (and last)
3. NOVEMBER THE FOURTH, 1419 (S.R.): DAWN
...Almost without taking notice, the night wandering of Frodo brought him near Bywater, in the last hour of darkness.
Then, with a start, he heard the explosion of strident screams, hoarse voices and blows. The loud noises came, without a doubt, from the large hut where the dozen of men that survived the battle were locked in the day before, waiting a decision about them. Frodo himself had dealt with the escorting and organising of a guard to keep them under vigilance and to care for their needs.
As the hobbit swiftly approached the place, he saw a rider that went at full gallop southwards and supposed that he headed for the Cotton Farm, looking for the Captains orders.
-Well, - murmured with a sigh – let's see what the matter is.
The stir had also woken up some of the neighbours and they, along with the three hobbits on duty, looked with furrowed brows and grim faces at the hut door, by the torchlight.
Inside the place howls sounded, and insults too. The wooden planks trembled with the blows, nearly falling down.
When Frodo spoke, everyone seemed frightened by his sudden appearance. It was as if he had mysteriously sprout up from nowhere, among the night shadows.
Quite a nasty habit of the Baggins', to do that kind of thing... - some hobbits thought.
-What is the trouble with the prisoners? – he asked, his pale features reflecting the moonlight.
-Ah, Mr. Frodo! – a guard answered – How lucky that you are here!... For some time past, these bandits are having a fit, howling like wild wolves. Looks like they are going crazy and I'm afraid they'll knock the door down!
-And how did it begin? – Frodo questioned, speaking louder in order to be heard in the redoubled din.
-They say that some of them are badly ill, and are asking for help and more food...As if we would be here to serve them; after all they did, stealing and imprisoning our people, and storming us yesterday! And if not for Captains Meriadoc and Peregrin... and for you, of course, Mr. Frodo, I don't know what would have happened! – exclaimed the guard with indignation.
Frodo was beginning to understand:
-But yesterday, when I brought them here, I gave instructions to get some healer to tend their wounds. Haven't any come? And have they not received food and water?
-No, sir! Jan Stoutoak and Jane Thymeplace have been too occupied with our own injured folks...And, besides, everyone is afraid of entering the hut. – added one of other of the hobbits on duty, grumbling irritably - ...Truly, they do not merit any care!
One of the neighbours that had came out because of the row, with a grim and angry face, assented:
-Maybe it would be better to get rid of them, burn the hut with everyone inside and solve so the problem once and for all!
The menace was heard by the prisoners, and the shouting increased:
-Murderers! You are worse than wargs! Open the door, we are dying in here! – they cried with desperation, as they assaulted the door and its hinges were beginning to get out of place.
Then Frodo raised his voice and said with authority:
-Be quiet, men! Stop trying to knock down the door and I will come in to speak with you!
All around, the hobbits protested, but he interrupted them and said, fixing them with a stern and sad stare:
-Someone once taught me never be too eager to deal out death in judgement, because it was not in my hand to give life... And that to decide who deserves to live or die is not for us. So, I think we have got more than enough talk about fire and revenge. Don't forget that hobbits never used to kill defenceless people... Now, -he added quietly – please, let me enter.
The prisoners had obeyed Frodo's orders and stopped their blows.
While two guards aimed their bows to the threshold and the other opened the door there was a tense silence. Inside the hut, bulks crowded around, the silhouettes dimly lighted by some oil lamps, and only the Ringbearer was able to distinguish the distorted and frightened faces of the men.
-Don't go into, Mr Frodo! – the guard insisted – They are in rage and will kill you!
-Nothing is going to happen to me, Rob... I've been in far worse places and I've come back – smiled reassuringly Frodo.
Notwithstanding his words, Frodo felt his heart beating swiftly as he crossed the threshold. He believed that he would be able to calm down these men, for which he felt a deep pity, fed by his own perception of fraternity with the fallen ones, but was well aware of the risks.
The door closed behind him. Firmly, he went to the centre of the dark place, and the prisoners surrounded him, tall and unnerving. In an angle of the room he saw three or four lying bodies and heard their moans and cries.
-I'm Frodo Baggins, one of the Travellers that lead the revolt of the Shire against you and your boss, Saruman, or Sharkey, as you named him.
After that, some menacing murmurs rose, but the hobbit continued quietly:
-You do fear for your lot... and with good reason, I would say, because you did harm gravely our land and our people. But we do not intend to let you die locked inside this hut. Even more, if you take an oath of leaving peacefully the Shire and never return, I will obtain your release.
-Are you not cheating us? ...And what about the wounded? – cried distrustful voices.
-No, I'm not cheating. And, yes, somehow I'll get a healer. Or I will tend them myself, since I've learnt something about healing lately. Also, I'll make sure that you receive enough food and water... Well, what is your answer?
After some minutes of silence, one of the men took a lamp from its hook on the wall, and approached it to Frodo.
-Let us see your face, halfling.
The prisoners scrutinized the hobbit's features, that conserved yet the marks of the hardship suffered in his quest. They could make out from them a strange sympathy and no intentions of deceit, and, at last, they accepted.
-All right, Frodo Baggins. Stand by your promises, because now we don't have anything to lose and we are decided not to die like rats.
Almost after these words, the door was opened ajar noisily and the dim light of the dawn illuminated the scene.
-Frodo! Are you safe and sound? – cried Merry and Pippin, swords in hand and fire in their eyes.
The men went back scared, because these halfling warriors, with brilliant helms and mail-coats, seemed imposing, in spite of their short height. But Frodo pushed his friends out, just like that.
-Nothing bad has happened – he smiled, secretly amused by his cousin's expressions.
The number of spectators had grown during that space of time, and everyone seemed surprised at seeing him exit unscathed. So, when Frodo gave instructions for treating the imprisoned ruffians adequately, no one protested. They looked at him with quite a reverential fear, harbouring some doubts, because wasn't it strange that this Mr. Frodo had so good an understanding with the ruffians?
When they were alone, Merry grumbled:
-Did you go insane, my dear cousin? It was sheer madness to go by yourself among those people! ... They are robbers and slayers; they could take you as a hostage, or take revenge on you because of their defeat!
And Pippin added, still looking a bit flushed:
-We came here at call to restrain the prisoners, but when we were told that you were inside, trying to calm them down, we got terribly frightened.
-Well, it was by chance that I wandered near this spot when the tumult began... - said Frodo slowly - , and I got involved in order to avert more bloodshed. By the way, I would like to free them as soon as possible, when the wounded ones are able to move. It would not be right to get our people out of the Lockholes and substitute them for other prisoners, would be?
The young Captains looked at him uncertainly:
-Do you trust them, Frodo?
The Ringbearer seemed thoughtful during a while, the eyes lost in the eastern horizon, where the rising of the sun was appearing with magnificence and, at last, he answered:
-I wouldn't risk not trusting. That, at least, is what I learnt in the last year: that the only way is to dare to confide...
The three of them stood still in silence a little time, until Pippin said, passing his arm over the shoulders of his eldest cousin:
-Dear Frodo, if you think so, I suppose it's right... And, now, if this matter is solved, what do you say about breakfast?
The other hobbits smiled their acquiescence, and Merry sighed, adding very softly:
-Please, Frodo, don't go away by paths along which we cannot follow you.
But Frodo did not answer.
THE END