Chapter 6
From the sky they looked as ants, treading bravely across the open plain. They were determined and ready for what danger they may, and would encounter on this long journey. They had a few days left before they reached the Rough Mile, and that would be when their companionship would start. Once again, they would be reunited with their old friends, the companions of the ring.
"I wonder what the lord Saruman is planning. Will he stop at nothing to find the ring? I am afraid, my lady, that if I find the ring I will not be able to destroy it, just as Frodo was. For he was very weak. As I feel I may be after this journey is over." "You will not be alone in this journey. Hour friends will be with you, and will help you to whatever end, but I fear took of the danger that lay before us. For since I left my home in Ginlund, my powers have faded, and I have strayed much away from my powers. I cannot longer see what I wish and I am in darkness." "You are still good of heart, and you will not turn on me, will you?" he asked looking at her. "Oh Sam, I would never choose such a thing." "You can fight though, cant you. For I cant do it alone. I am very weak of skill." "I think, I may be able to help. Although a woman, I am somewhat skillful with a bow." She said pulling a golden bow from beneath her cloak. Even in the day it glowed with extreme light, just as she did once before. She slipped the bow inside cloak quickly, as though not to be seen. "We Egmil are trained to fight with swords and swords alone. A great love of mine the bow has been and it is a secret now only you know. Since the years of my childhood I have practiced with my bow, and she has never failed me yet." As she said this she kissed her hand and gently placed it upon her heart. "The secret will escape from my grasp once I begin to fight, but it will not matter who shall know, for all that matters is the well being of Middle- Earth.
The wind blew through the tall grasses that surrounded them. A few trees were barley in their grasp of sight, and they longed for a nice spot of shade to rest their weary legs.
"Why did you choose to come with me?" asked Sam picking wildflowers form the grass beneath their treading feet. "Because... she paused not really knowing the answer and searching for it from the depths of her heart. "Because I knew that this journey was very important and that you would not make it alone. You, a hobbit, could never fight all the evil Saruman will send. Frodo has looked, once again, into the mirror and seen what would happen if you fought alone. And that is why I am here. I would rather die than see Middle-Earth fall. It is destiny that I fight." "But will you accept fighting with men?" asked Sam. "Men are weak and deserve no help. But we shall help them, and them help us. Men have fallen with the bearing of the rings, and will fall again." She said walking more quickly. "Yes, I know. But why did not the fairies fall? Was there not a ring also given to the Lords of the Egmil?" "No, there was not. We are not a people of great dignity and many forgot of those called Egmil. We were isolated from the rest of the world, alone in our paradise under the Earth. Until the Dwarfs came, no one knew us. But now it is time to fight together, to rid of evil once and for all."
The sun was slowly setting behind the clouds in the west and night drew near. A light rustle in the trees signaled they were not alone, and they were no longer in the open plains. They had passed into the Forest of Bitha. A small forest it was, with many dangers around every corner. The grass was tall and swayed gently with the light breeze. The plains had given them a safe comfort, and the forest was threatening. But it was the only way to reach their companions at the Rough Mîle. The whole journey through the forest, Farill grasped her bow inside her cloak, ready for something she knew was out there. They never spoke nor looked at each other, their eyes constantly searching the darkness. The path to them was growing darker and more terrifying. But this, Sam thought was only a taste of the danger they would confront.
Sam once turned and looked at her. Her eyes were strait forward and glowed with as much intensity as the rising sun. It frightened him and he turned quickly away. "Come, be quick." She said. "We must abandon the woodland before dusk." They walked a few leagues forward towards the edge of the forest. But she stopped unexpectedly. "Be silent." She said whispering like faint wind through the mourning trees. "What is it?" asked Sam looking forward afraid to turn around. She leaned over and whispered to him. "Something is following us, yet I don't know what it is. She paused as if listening to the footsteps of the lingerer. "It approaches suddenly...then stops." She said grasping her bow and pulling it out from beneath her cloak. "Come, we must hurry." She said taking a single step.
SMACK! The splintering of wood came from her left. A single arrow hung there not but a few inches from her head. Both her and Sam turned. Farill then saw the creature. "An orc." She said firing an arrow. With a yelp of agony he fell dead to the ground. "Hurry Sam, run!" she said firing more arrows into the darkness. Farill and Sam ran backwards through the tall grass, avoiding the shower of arrows upon them. She still fired into the darkness, hitting an orc with every arrow slung from her bow. Sam ran, but tripped over a rotting tree root and fell with a thud so great. He tried to obtain balance, but he stumbled once more in the swaying grass. The glow of the orc blade grew ever nearer in the closing night and still Farill fired at them. The squeals of orcs were constant even in the silence of the forest. Finally it stopped. Once again it was quiet and peaceful as if nothing had ever happened. But that was not so in the real of it. Farill stood beside him, her face full of triumph and fear. "Come," she said helping him up. "We must hurry, for more of them will come, and there will be no hope left for us."
They ran through the quiet of the woods and finally, after hours of treading through the night, they reached the edges of the forest. The stars gleamed brightly against the dark blanket that stretched across the sky. They had once again come to the safety of the plains. They left all the terror from behind and seemed to enter into a world of peace. The only sounds were the rustle of the wind blowing through the tall grasses that surrounded them. Small bugs chirped with delight as their evening meal began, and the sound of mourning turtle doves lingered in the night.
They did not stop, but kept treading softly through the darkness. At times the only sounds were the sounds of their feet and a welcomed feeling entered. The feeling was that of being alone. But Farill knew deep inside her beating heart that they were not and never would be alone. For something in the shadows lingered behind them on their trail. A large creature, almost like human, but had been corrupt by evil. Only three remained now, for nine were once but had fallen into complete darkness and out of existence they were kept. These creatures rode neither horse, nor dragon, but on their own two feet, invisible from sight. But she kept this to herself, in the loneliness of her mind.
Their footstep kept marching until daybreak and finally in their mist was a structure more baffling than any eye has seen. It stood higher than the tallest tree, and its majesty overcame its elegance.
"The Rough Mîle" she said with pleasure. "It was once the home of men of wealthy nature, but they were overtaken by goblins."
"Is it safe?" asked Sam.
"Yes, the goblins did not claim the tower and fled to the Forest of Bitha. We are lucky we made it through that dreadful place alive."
He looked at her. Her eyes were still shining and awake. She looked as if nothing ever happened in the trees far behind them. He was tired and weary already. And the journey had just begun.
"Come," she said, "they are waiting." She started to walk slowly and Sam ran behind to keep from lingering.
Holes of *minkworms were plentiful in the grasses. He kept his guard, watching for the rodent to pop up from their homes under the soil. What a tasty meal they were, for they were not worms at all. A furry animal the sizes of a large fist lingered here in the grasses of the prairie. As far as they walked, one never came to the surface.
*Minkworm- small, fur-like animal (resembles a fox) Finally the tall tower hovered above them and a stone staircase wondered around the boundary. It stretched high to the top, and little caves were lined up around it. Sam looked high into all of the caves, but to his disappointment he saw no signs of any living creatures.
The morning sun was quickly rising in the east and he strained to look any farther into the now so distant caves. He covered his eyes with his hand and looked up strait to the sky. "Why must we go to the top? Cant they meet us down here?" he asked with displeasure.
"It is the only way," she said. She started walking towards the rotting gate at the base. He followed her solemnly knowing it was for the best. She said nothing more. "But why?" he asked wanting the real answer to escape from her lips. She turned to him, the wind blowing through her dark hair. "Because we are in a time of danger this very instinct. We will be safer on top of the tower. We will find our friends there." She said pointing up to the top of the Mîle. A cave, larger than the rest stood there, with an emblem, large enough for the naked eye to read from such a distance.
"Up there, at the tallest cave?" he asked in despair, his weary legs about to collapse beneath him.
"Yes. It is the cave of Rowem, a great king of the Rough Mîle. It is where his tomb was once kept and one who enters will be protected by whatever danger awaits them outside. His spirit lingers there and some say he appears to the wicked when they approach to take their claim."
Sam shivered. Although the warm sun pressed against his back, the cool breeze swept upon him sending a sense of fear down his spine. "I can feel it." Said Sam. "Hurry, they are coming." He ran as fast as his overly large body could carry him, and from behind darted Farill with swiftness beyond unknowing. The steps of the Mîle were hard and gripped his feet well. Although steep, the steps seemed to make him go faster. The wind pushed his body fiercely up the winding stairs and Sam did not dare to look into the dark mysterious caves that passed by his glances. Object seemed to jump out at him. He did not know why things were happening to him and he cried out.
"Farill, help me!" but he heard no answer from behind. His head pounded and he heard voices. Whispers of dark creatures escaped from the caves. He was being drawn to them. As he ran his footsteps were being pulled closer and closer to the dark wall. It was then that he saw them. Three of them dressed in black with cloaks covering their faces. With a piercing squeal they pointed their faces towards the sky. Sam knew they could not see him, but his presence to them was growing. He turned around looking for his beloved companion, for she was nothing more, but Farill had disappeared. "Farill!" he yelled but no answer came. To the top he almost was, but his legs grew weaker with every step. He tried very hard not to give up and to keep going, but suddenly he fell. All of his weight collapsed and he lay there on the step. All hope faded from his view and he longed for someone. He was alone.
He then heard a voice. It was one he had not heard for ages. A dream it was, he thought. But to him it was clear in his mind. It spoke to him with love and tenderness. "You will not fall, for I will be with you and watching you always. May I give you strength."
Sam felt life in him. Just a small amount of hope ran through his body and he stood. His legs felt sturdy and he saw the entrance just ahead.
The squeal of the Nazgúl was close now and he could feel their presence behind him. The door was within feet of his reaching and he ran with all the strength left in him. He ran and ran but the farther he went the farther away the cave of Rowem seemed to get. What kind of evil was this? He thought. Then he remembered what Farill had said. "He appears the wicked when the appear to take their claim." But he was not the evil one. The three behind him were and he had to prove it.
He turned his face towards the wind and yelled. "Depart from me you evil ones, for I am not the one at fate."
The Nazgúl stopped and drew out their swords. With a squeal the charged at him running like the wind. Sam turned and looked at the cave. It still looked miles away. Sam knew his fate was drawing near. He had no hope here at the top of the Mile and he was alone, surrounded by an evil unkillable. His only chances were to jump, or keep running and never reach the opening of the cave.
He drew his sword and looked straight at them, and they stopped. I seemed to him that they were not paying attention. Their hoods were facing him and their red eyes glowed from beneath the cloaks. It was once and the first that he had seen those glowing eyes. A shiver was sent, trickling down his spine. He did not dare turn around but just stared out at the creatures. Their terrifying appearance seemed to strike him dead and he stood there unable to move his trembling feet.
But suddenly, from behind, a wind blew. Sam turned sharply towards the wind and found he was standing inside the long lost cave of Rowem. A light flickered in the distance of the cave. It was dim and barely noticeable, that while light suspended high in the air.
He turned to the light that shown in through the entrance and to his surprise no more evil awaited him there. All he heard was the distant shriek of their being.
"The spirit of Rowem" he said looking intently around the shadows of the cave. The walls were made of hard rock with jewels scattered throughout. The light in the distance flickered and caught his attention. Slowly he walked through that mournful cave through obstacles of every kind. There seemed to be no sign of life and his heart asked fro sound of someone's voice. The small stream of light flickered occasionally and his eyes were kept fixed on it. he did not know what it was or where it came from but something in his heart told him to keep following it with out delay.
As it drew closer a deep ear grew inside him that was threatening. If it weren't a way out, where would it lead? He did not know the answer to this question and feared the outcome, the outcome of this whole journey.
The light drew closer and closer and he clung to the walls of the cave. His thoughts were nothing more then nightmares and he tried to make his mind think of blissful, joyful things and not live them. It was just the way he was. He could not change himself or the way he thought.
In the distance of the caves he heard voices. They were contained as whispers and nothing more. He could not tell from which direction they came or whom it belonged to. His footsteps were clamorous and could silence anyone not intending to be found. Suddenly the white light he had been following went out and a hush fell upon the cave.
"Who is there?" asked Sam with uneasiness. But no one answered. He stood behind a rough corner that entered into a chamber behind. In the darkness he could see no one, but still he entered, intending to find out who the guests were.
Just as he turned the corner, the bright light suddenly flashed and there in his mist stood four of his companions. He was astonished beyond all telling and stood there in awe.
"Gandalf?" he asked. "Are my eyes deceiving me or is that really you?" "No my Samwise, it is I." He said a smile creeping upon his old face. Farill stood beside him, her back strait and tall and her hair lying flat against her back. And from behind her came an noise. Farill jumped and moved aside to see the disturbance from behind her. There sat Merry and Pippin around a burning fire.
"Why Sam, where have you been? We saved you some bacon. Care to have some?" They both laughed loudly together, their laughs echoing throughout the caves. They ran over to him and grasped him in greeting.
They sat around that fire in the safety of the cave long into the night. Gandalf had much to say of the Undying Lands and he talked with exuberance. He enjoyed listening to Gandalf speak and be merry. He thought many times about the turmoil the day had brought. His adventure had been thrilling and it had just begun.
From the sky they looked as ants, treading bravely across the open plain. They were determined and ready for what danger they may, and would encounter on this long journey. They had a few days left before they reached the Rough Mile, and that would be when their companionship would start. Once again, they would be reunited with their old friends, the companions of the ring.
"I wonder what the lord Saruman is planning. Will he stop at nothing to find the ring? I am afraid, my lady, that if I find the ring I will not be able to destroy it, just as Frodo was. For he was very weak. As I feel I may be after this journey is over." "You will not be alone in this journey. Hour friends will be with you, and will help you to whatever end, but I fear took of the danger that lay before us. For since I left my home in Ginlund, my powers have faded, and I have strayed much away from my powers. I cannot longer see what I wish and I am in darkness." "You are still good of heart, and you will not turn on me, will you?" he asked looking at her. "Oh Sam, I would never choose such a thing." "You can fight though, cant you. For I cant do it alone. I am very weak of skill." "I think, I may be able to help. Although a woman, I am somewhat skillful with a bow." She said pulling a golden bow from beneath her cloak. Even in the day it glowed with extreme light, just as she did once before. She slipped the bow inside cloak quickly, as though not to be seen. "We Egmil are trained to fight with swords and swords alone. A great love of mine the bow has been and it is a secret now only you know. Since the years of my childhood I have practiced with my bow, and she has never failed me yet." As she said this she kissed her hand and gently placed it upon her heart. "The secret will escape from my grasp once I begin to fight, but it will not matter who shall know, for all that matters is the well being of Middle- Earth.
The wind blew through the tall grasses that surrounded them. A few trees were barley in their grasp of sight, and they longed for a nice spot of shade to rest their weary legs.
"Why did you choose to come with me?" asked Sam picking wildflowers form the grass beneath their treading feet. "Because... she paused not really knowing the answer and searching for it from the depths of her heart. "Because I knew that this journey was very important and that you would not make it alone. You, a hobbit, could never fight all the evil Saruman will send. Frodo has looked, once again, into the mirror and seen what would happen if you fought alone. And that is why I am here. I would rather die than see Middle-Earth fall. It is destiny that I fight." "But will you accept fighting with men?" asked Sam. "Men are weak and deserve no help. But we shall help them, and them help us. Men have fallen with the bearing of the rings, and will fall again." She said walking more quickly. "Yes, I know. But why did not the fairies fall? Was there not a ring also given to the Lords of the Egmil?" "No, there was not. We are not a people of great dignity and many forgot of those called Egmil. We were isolated from the rest of the world, alone in our paradise under the Earth. Until the Dwarfs came, no one knew us. But now it is time to fight together, to rid of evil once and for all."
The sun was slowly setting behind the clouds in the west and night drew near. A light rustle in the trees signaled they were not alone, and they were no longer in the open plains. They had passed into the Forest of Bitha. A small forest it was, with many dangers around every corner. The grass was tall and swayed gently with the light breeze. The plains had given them a safe comfort, and the forest was threatening. But it was the only way to reach their companions at the Rough Mîle. The whole journey through the forest, Farill grasped her bow inside her cloak, ready for something she knew was out there. They never spoke nor looked at each other, their eyes constantly searching the darkness. The path to them was growing darker and more terrifying. But this, Sam thought was only a taste of the danger they would confront.
Sam once turned and looked at her. Her eyes were strait forward and glowed with as much intensity as the rising sun. It frightened him and he turned quickly away. "Come, be quick." She said. "We must abandon the woodland before dusk." They walked a few leagues forward towards the edge of the forest. But she stopped unexpectedly. "Be silent." She said whispering like faint wind through the mourning trees. "What is it?" asked Sam looking forward afraid to turn around. She leaned over and whispered to him. "Something is following us, yet I don't know what it is. She paused as if listening to the footsteps of the lingerer. "It approaches suddenly...then stops." She said grasping her bow and pulling it out from beneath her cloak. "Come, we must hurry." She said taking a single step.
SMACK! The splintering of wood came from her left. A single arrow hung there not but a few inches from her head. Both her and Sam turned. Farill then saw the creature. "An orc." She said firing an arrow. With a yelp of agony he fell dead to the ground. "Hurry Sam, run!" she said firing more arrows into the darkness. Farill and Sam ran backwards through the tall grass, avoiding the shower of arrows upon them. She still fired into the darkness, hitting an orc with every arrow slung from her bow. Sam ran, but tripped over a rotting tree root and fell with a thud so great. He tried to obtain balance, but he stumbled once more in the swaying grass. The glow of the orc blade grew ever nearer in the closing night and still Farill fired at them. The squeals of orcs were constant even in the silence of the forest. Finally it stopped. Once again it was quiet and peaceful as if nothing had ever happened. But that was not so in the real of it. Farill stood beside him, her face full of triumph and fear. "Come," she said helping him up. "We must hurry, for more of them will come, and there will be no hope left for us."
They ran through the quiet of the woods and finally, after hours of treading through the night, they reached the edges of the forest. The stars gleamed brightly against the dark blanket that stretched across the sky. They had once again come to the safety of the plains. They left all the terror from behind and seemed to enter into a world of peace. The only sounds were the rustle of the wind blowing through the tall grasses that surrounded them. Small bugs chirped with delight as their evening meal began, and the sound of mourning turtle doves lingered in the night.
They did not stop, but kept treading softly through the darkness. At times the only sounds were the sounds of their feet and a welcomed feeling entered. The feeling was that of being alone. But Farill knew deep inside her beating heart that they were not and never would be alone. For something in the shadows lingered behind them on their trail. A large creature, almost like human, but had been corrupt by evil. Only three remained now, for nine were once but had fallen into complete darkness and out of existence they were kept. These creatures rode neither horse, nor dragon, but on their own two feet, invisible from sight. But she kept this to herself, in the loneliness of her mind.
Their footstep kept marching until daybreak and finally in their mist was a structure more baffling than any eye has seen. It stood higher than the tallest tree, and its majesty overcame its elegance.
"The Rough Mîle" she said with pleasure. "It was once the home of men of wealthy nature, but they were overtaken by goblins."
"Is it safe?" asked Sam.
"Yes, the goblins did not claim the tower and fled to the Forest of Bitha. We are lucky we made it through that dreadful place alive."
He looked at her. Her eyes were still shining and awake. She looked as if nothing ever happened in the trees far behind them. He was tired and weary already. And the journey had just begun.
"Come," she said, "they are waiting." She started to walk slowly and Sam ran behind to keep from lingering.
Holes of *minkworms were plentiful in the grasses. He kept his guard, watching for the rodent to pop up from their homes under the soil. What a tasty meal they were, for they were not worms at all. A furry animal the sizes of a large fist lingered here in the grasses of the prairie. As far as they walked, one never came to the surface.
*Minkworm- small, fur-like animal (resembles a fox) Finally the tall tower hovered above them and a stone staircase wondered around the boundary. It stretched high to the top, and little caves were lined up around it. Sam looked high into all of the caves, but to his disappointment he saw no signs of any living creatures.
The morning sun was quickly rising in the east and he strained to look any farther into the now so distant caves. He covered his eyes with his hand and looked up strait to the sky. "Why must we go to the top? Cant they meet us down here?" he asked with displeasure.
"It is the only way," she said. She started walking towards the rotting gate at the base. He followed her solemnly knowing it was for the best. She said nothing more. "But why?" he asked wanting the real answer to escape from her lips. She turned to him, the wind blowing through her dark hair. "Because we are in a time of danger this very instinct. We will be safer on top of the tower. We will find our friends there." She said pointing up to the top of the Mîle. A cave, larger than the rest stood there, with an emblem, large enough for the naked eye to read from such a distance.
"Up there, at the tallest cave?" he asked in despair, his weary legs about to collapse beneath him.
"Yes. It is the cave of Rowem, a great king of the Rough Mîle. It is where his tomb was once kept and one who enters will be protected by whatever danger awaits them outside. His spirit lingers there and some say he appears to the wicked when they approach to take their claim."
Sam shivered. Although the warm sun pressed against his back, the cool breeze swept upon him sending a sense of fear down his spine. "I can feel it." Said Sam. "Hurry, they are coming." He ran as fast as his overly large body could carry him, and from behind darted Farill with swiftness beyond unknowing. The steps of the Mîle were hard and gripped his feet well. Although steep, the steps seemed to make him go faster. The wind pushed his body fiercely up the winding stairs and Sam did not dare to look into the dark mysterious caves that passed by his glances. Object seemed to jump out at him. He did not know why things were happening to him and he cried out.
"Farill, help me!" but he heard no answer from behind. His head pounded and he heard voices. Whispers of dark creatures escaped from the caves. He was being drawn to them. As he ran his footsteps were being pulled closer and closer to the dark wall. It was then that he saw them. Three of them dressed in black with cloaks covering their faces. With a piercing squeal they pointed their faces towards the sky. Sam knew they could not see him, but his presence to them was growing. He turned around looking for his beloved companion, for she was nothing more, but Farill had disappeared. "Farill!" he yelled but no answer came. To the top he almost was, but his legs grew weaker with every step. He tried very hard not to give up and to keep going, but suddenly he fell. All of his weight collapsed and he lay there on the step. All hope faded from his view and he longed for someone. He was alone.
He then heard a voice. It was one he had not heard for ages. A dream it was, he thought. But to him it was clear in his mind. It spoke to him with love and tenderness. "You will not fall, for I will be with you and watching you always. May I give you strength."
Sam felt life in him. Just a small amount of hope ran through his body and he stood. His legs felt sturdy and he saw the entrance just ahead.
The squeal of the Nazgúl was close now and he could feel their presence behind him. The door was within feet of his reaching and he ran with all the strength left in him. He ran and ran but the farther he went the farther away the cave of Rowem seemed to get. What kind of evil was this? He thought. Then he remembered what Farill had said. "He appears the wicked when the appear to take their claim." But he was not the evil one. The three behind him were and he had to prove it.
He turned his face towards the wind and yelled. "Depart from me you evil ones, for I am not the one at fate."
The Nazgúl stopped and drew out their swords. With a squeal the charged at him running like the wind. Sam turned and looked at the cave. It still looked miles away. Sam knew his fate was drawing near. He had no hope here at the top of the Mile and he was alone, surrounded by an evil unkillable. His only chances were to jump, or keep running and never reach the opening of the cave.
He drew his sword and looked straight at them, and they stopped. I seemed to him that they were not paying attention. Their hoods were facing him and their red eyes glowed from beneath the cloaks. It was once and the first that he had seen those glowing eyes. A shiver was sent, trickling down his spine. He did not dare turn around but just stared out at the creatures. Their terrifying appearance seemed to strike him dead and he stood there unable to move his trembling feet.
But suddenly, from behind, a wind blew. Sam turned sharply towards the wind and found he was standing inside the long lost cave of Rowem. A light flickered in the distance of the cave. It was dim and barely noticeable, that while light suspended high in the air.
He turned to the light that shown in through the entrance and to his surprise no more evil awaited him there. All he heard was the distant shriek of their being.
"The spirit of Rowem" he said looking intently around the shadows of the cave. The walls were made of hard rock with jewels scattered throughout. The light in the distance flickered and caught his attention. Slowly he walked through that mournful cave through obstacles of every kind. There seemed to be no sign of life and his heart asked fro sound of someone's voice. The small stream of light flickered occasionally and his eyes were kept fixed on it. he did not know what it was or where it came from but something in his heart told him to keep following it with out delay.
As it drew closer a deep ear grew inside him that was threatening. If it weren't a way out, where would it lead? He did not know the answer to this question and feared the outcome, the outcome of this whole journey.
The light drew closer and closer and he clung to the walls of the cave. His thoughts were nothing more then nightmares and he tried to make his mind think of blissful, joyful things and not live them. It was just the way he was. He could not change himself or the way he thought.
In the distance of the caves he heard voices. They were contained as whispers and nothing more. He could not tell from which direction they came or whom it belonged to. His footsteps were clamorous and could silence anyone not intending to be found. Suddenly the white light he had been following went out and a hush fell upon the cave.
"Who is there?" asked Sam with uneasiness. But no one answered. He stood behind a rough corner that entered into a chamber behind. In the darkness he could see no one, but still he entered, intending to find out who the guests were.
Just as he turned the corner, the bright light suddenly flashed and there in his mist stood four of his companions. He was astonished beyond all telling and stood there in awe.
"Gandalf?" he asked. "Are my eyes deceiving me or is that really you?" "No my Samwise, it is I." He said a smile creeping upon his old face. Farill stood beside him, her back strait and tall and her hair lying flat against her back. And from behind her came an noise. Farill jumped and moved aside to see the disturbance from behind her. There sat Merry and Pippin around a burning fire.
"Why Sam, where have you been? We saved you some bacon. Care to have some?" They both laughed loudly together, their laughs echoing throughout the caves. They ran over to him and grasped him in greeting.
They sat around that fire in the safety of the cave long into the night. Gandalf had much to say of the Undying Lands and he talked with exuberance. He enjoyed listening to Gandalf speak and be merry. He thought many times about the turmoil the day had brought. His adventure had been thrilling and it had just begun.
