Chapter 11

Dungeons of Tharbad

Sam awoke abruptly in the middle of the night. It had indeed been his turn to keep watch for any intruders that they did not wish for, and for any unexpected guests, but consequently he had drifted off into a sleep that was too foolish for his own good. His mind had awakened him on that cold, stormy night, which never seemed to still, and made him aware of a disturbance outside in the village. He looked around the room at his companions, but yet they had not been awakened by the loud clamor. Only he had been awakened.

He climbed out of bed and walked over to the window that looked outside their room. The sky was dark, for clouds kept the moon from shining amongst the ground, and kept the stars from twinkling with delight. And still, in the dark sky, the storm raged on with as much fury as a herd of bulls ready to charge. Sam knew the storm did not intend to leave within a few hours, and that they would have to escape in the pouring rain if they must. This did not please Sam very much, for he was not a hobbit who favored being wet. But if it were the only way out of their danger, then he would not be concerned.

The street was dark and no figures could be seen moving out in the rain. The noises had stopped and Sam's fears started to calm, until he heard it again. The sounds of a searching object. The sound of a intruding person. Once again Sam became frightened. He ran over to Farill and shook her abruptly trying to wake her. She rose up looking at Sam with alert eyes.

"What is it?" she asked him standing sternly.

"I heard a noise outside our room. It was like someone was more curious than his or her own good. I am worried about what is out there. For it is not a friend of our knowing that we can trust. No one is worth our trusting in these parts."

She walked over to the window and looked out onto the streets. Her eyes burned out with severity and appeared to glow. It looked from an outsider as if a candle had been set ablaze in the small window. For they could not see her body from the rain patterns on the window, only a dim light was burning from inside the room.

She kept looking out into the city and once in a while would see an object sneak around a corner and vanish into the darkness. She could not tell for sure how many were out there for they were quite unnoticeable in the dark and pouring rain.

By now, Merry and Pippin had awoken to the sound of their scurrying around the room in anxiety, and walked over to the window. Their minds did not know what was going on at that moment and were, at first, afraid to ask. So they stood there, not able to see out the window but wondering what Sam and Farill were looking for.

Pippin finally got up the will to ask their worried friends what was bothering them. They explained to him about the foul noises that had awoken them. And finally no more could be heard outside their window and they all decided to go back to bed and yet be cautious for what was waiting for them. So they all climbed back in bed, being sure to keep the door locked that left their room.

It was peaceful outside, for no more doors crashed and no more voices could be heard to the ears of the hobbits. But something still lingered out in the city, and Farill was aware of this. She had pretended to fall asleep, keeping her eyes closed and not rousing around with distress. She waited and listened, for although the hobbits felt the calmness within, she didn't. In her bed she could feel the heavy footsteps that sneaked around their room just waiting for them to investigate and come out of the door that entered their room. The item that troubled Farill the worst was the thought of the creature. She did not know what it was. It could be an orc, sneaking around the city looking for a late night meal, or more likely it could be a group of men, waiting for them. A group of men that were evil and did not want Middle-Earth to survive.

Finally when Farill was lying there so still, as if her body had lost its life, a shadow looked into the window. She heard its approach and opened her eyes. A figure of a man stood there. His eyes were glowing with sternness and once she saw him look to his side then giving no warning his shadow faded away into the dark. Farill sat up and stared at the door. For she knew he was not the only other standing watch for the right moment. Finally she knew the time had come. A loud crash came and Farill saw that the men that had come for them had caved in the door. A dozen of them came running in, seizing Farill and the three hobbits by their arms and carried them out of the room. Sam tried to struggle free but Farill stopped him by yelling at him to still. He stopped and looked at her as if the devil had crossed her mind. She just looked at the one holding her captive and asked him "where are you taking us?" Her words were harsh and her eyes angry.

"We have been ordered by the king of Tharbad that we bring you and your friends to him immediately. He wishes to question you for the rest of the night."

With that, they dragged the captives out of the room and into the dark, damp street. They walked slowly up the hill that led to the castle it was a hard walk and the men would not let them go and walk freely by themselves for the chance that they would try to escape would be high. When they got to the fortress they locked the prisoners in a jail cell until the king willed to speak with them.

The dungeon was dark and cold from the rain that had come through the small cell window. It did not look inviting to any of the companions, nor did any dungeons throughout all the land. It smelled of must and dirt from the lack of will power that the guards portrayed in their efforts of cleaning. It seemed the one kept captive before them was not completely healthy for the time before he was set free, or, was put to death. They hated the sound of that word for if this was where it ended, then their journey would have been completely in vain. They will have done no good to the world of men and hobbits and all other creatures, and so in by doing this, the evil one will have triumphed. But that is if their journey was to end here. They all hoped that was not the end that was to come, but they did not have a choice in the matter.

They walked inside as the guards escorted them inside. Their hands were now bound by heavy twine behind their back. The guards threw the hobbits inside the cell, with them all landing with a thud. Farill shrieked with disapproval at the sight of the behavior before her. She would have never dreamed that these men could be so harsh to the ones of innocence. She turned and looked into the eyes of the one that held her captive.

"Sir, if you don't mind, I think I can do quite well walking myself into the cell. A woman like me is perfectly capable, don't you think?"

He just stared at her and slowly let her go by the wrists, and as she left she struck her foot hard onto his. He doubled over and held his foot with his hands. He cursed under his breath and then turned and walked out the door, slamming it behind him. It was then locked and finally the only sounds were the pats of many footsteps walking away from the site.

Farill walked over to a far wall that was right beneath the open window. It was barred and only the foul winds came rushing through. It was so dark one could not see each other when sitting across the room. Nor could they see the things that surrounded them. For the room was not empty, and once Farill's eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could make out what surrounded her. Her eyes glowed as they searched the room and she suddenly saw it.

"Don't you see it?" she asked her companions.

"See what?" said Sam in a voice so depressed one would burst out in tears at the sound of it. He did not have any hope left in his troubled mind and nor did he care. All he knew was that whatever was to come would be the end. There was no hope to be found.

Pippin stood from his seat against the wall and looked around. "See what?"

"Look." said Farill pointing to the far wall by which none of them sat. There against the wall was a rack and on that rack were many bottles of wine. A large barrel sat beside it and many barrels surrounded the wall opposite.

"We are in no dungeon. Can't you see we are in a wine cellar? It is not a wonder that this room smells like that of must. This place has been abandoned for years and since then, they have used it as a dungeon. For as I can guess, there is no dungeon in the city of Tharbad. There is just an abundance of rooms in the hall."

"What does that matter?" asked Sam looking all the more tired from the long journey. "What does it matter that we are in a wine cellar. It is no different than a dungeon. Can't you see? It still is a room where one can be bound. It is still a room with a door, and a lock. Why does it matter that the room is what it is? It makes no difference."

"O Sam," she said walking over to her friend. "Why must you loose hope so easily. Why are the thoughts that pass through your mind the most discouraging ones? Do you not see the beauty and happiness in everything that occurs around you?" she was troubled by the one who could loose hope so easily. He did not look up at her and just stared at his feet that were covered with sweat and dirt from the gravel roads. She just continued.

"If you loose hope to the point of giving up, well, this journey will be over. And as I see it, this journey will not end here, in this dungeon. If this journey is to end, I would rather have it end with us fighting together for our lands then us rotting away in a cell."

Sam looked up at the sound of these words and smiled. She smiled in return back at his face for the joy had returned and there was once again hope in their hearts.

"What do you intend we do?" asked Merry who had been listening from a distance.

"I am not sure," replied Farill. "But I will not give up until I find a way out of this place." She looked at them all one at a time. "And I hope none of you give up either."

All of them smiled at the bravery of their friend. They knew she would find a way, if there was one. There had to be a way, for if there wasn't a way, then their journey would be over. They would not let that happen.

For the remainder of the night, Farill stood pacing around the room, her mind was trying to think of a plan. Once in a while she would stop and sit down, for her legs had grown tired and her mind had grown weary. She knew that in the morning, the king would question them, for he was conscious that the companions knew the whereabouts of the ring. He would ask them until they would speak and torture if it was necessary. And in their case, torture would be a necessity. For no matter what happened, they would not tell him anything. They knew too much.

She sat there for hours, just waiting, thinking of a plan, but none reached her mind.

When the first rays of sun reached the horizon and a spark of light drifted its way into the dark cell room, Farill still had not thought of a plan for their escape. She knew that if she did not think of one soon that time would be up. Then their would be no hope for the world. Her anxiety was growing and yet it could to be helped. Although she was immortal, she still feared. She feared of things like failure, and death. She knew that if she could stay alive until the Great Battle was finished, then she would live forever, knowing in her heart that she helped prevail the good in Middle-Earth.

As the sun quickly rose before her eyes she noticed something. There on the hard rock floor was a small row of ants making their way to the pile of barrels in the corner of the room. They made a straight line as the traveled from the crack in the wall.

Farill stood from the place where she sat and knelt down to the height of the insects. She crawled on the floor slowly, following their every step. She watched them closely as not to loose sight of them amongst the floor in which they blended.

Around her, her companions slept soundly on the floor. Sweet thoughts filled their dreams and they were not aroused by the tinniest of sounds. She knew what it was that they were dreaming of; their home. She knew it was not their dream in life, to go on a journey to save others from destruction, but they had no choice. This was what they had to do, and somehow she too knew it was hard to accept.

She had now reached the corner of the room in which the barrels were. The line of ants twisted and turned between he barrels that were clasped tightly together. In fright of loosing the trail, she moved the barrels one by one, almost throwing them across the room. If they had not been even half full of wine, they would nave flew across the room in such a racket and woken up the guards. Six barrels sat there in the corner and as she moved the barrels, a thin line was drawn in the rock floor. It was barley a few inches wide and in the far corner, closest to the wall was a crack in which the ants entered. At the moment saw this, she knew what it was that she saw. The thin line is the rock floor was more than just a line, it was a crack. And this crack was the way for their escape. It was an opening out of the cell room.

She ran hastily over to Sam who lay curled up in the corner. "Sam, Sam wake up!" she beckoned him. He stirred and all at once his eyes flashed open as if he had not been asleep at all.

"What is it?" he asked her sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "What is troubling you?" he knew something was wrong by the erect tone in her voice, but he could not trigger the thought.

"Nothing is wrong. Well I suppose something could be terribly wrong, but I don't know. But come and see, quick!"

She led him over to the corner of the room in which the barrels had lay before and there she showed him the door. It blended into the rock floor as if it wasn't there but still if one looked closely, they could see the dim outline of the portal.

"What is it?" he asked her, for he could not see what her eyes could.

"Can't you see it?" she asked him in disarray. She knelt down to the floor and with her index finger, traced the outline of the door.

"Farill, you have found it!" he cried with happiness and awe. "You have found our escape!"

"Yes, but the trouble now is, well, how it is exactly that we are to escape. I can not know for sure until it is opened. But yet how are we to open it?"

Sam looked around the room for the answer. He searched and searched but he could not find what he was looking for. For what was there to use to escape from a dungeon? Only the least intelligent would make that mistake. They only thing kept in the wince cellar was the barrels. They were made of hard wood planks, positioned around in a circle to form the shape of the barrel. Inside, they knew, was wine. In some, it filled the brink of the barrel, but in others, it was only half full, or in their case, half-empty.

The time was aging and the sun rose quicker and quicker. Time was running out and this fear brought panic. The panic that would ruin and destroy them. The panic that would conclude their journey forever.

The chaos around the room aroused Pippin. He sat up form where he lay and stared at the two. His mind was aware that something had come about, but he did not know exactly. His heart grew angry and he could no longer contain his anger. He stood and facing them, burst out all his anger that was kept inside his beating heart.

"Why! Why is it that Samwise Gamgee gets all the important news first and foremost? Why is it always him and not I that receives the attention?" he glared at Sam in the same way a angry dog stares at a cat that had wondered onto his territory. Sam was amazed at the fury of his companion. He knew that there was some dark evil at work here. That the king of Tharbad was trying to split their friendship so that one of them, particularly Pippin, would confess to him where their journey was really leading. For this clever, corrupt king seemed to know everything about them, like a father knows his son or an animal knows it's territory. But this could not happen.

"Pippin, this is no time to argue. I have found a way to escape from this horrible place. Can you not see? Asked Farill. "I will not risk our friendship for fatuous things. Indeed I will not let it. Now come out of your shell of jealousy and help us find a way to escape from this grimacing place."

Pippin's heart softened as she said this, for he knew she was right, but only enough to decide to help them. There was yet a clump of jealousy and hatred that lingered in his heart. This was not over, he thought, for he could not let go of the problems I his troubled mind. They were now a part of his being. For since Merry had informed him that the Evil one thought the ring was in his procession, he could not bear to feel unneeded. His worst fear was to go throughout life as a nobody who was helpless and shy. Perhaps, the blame was to rest on his shoulders for the trouble he had put his companions in their last journey. He had put them in the way of death and almost caused their destruction. He would not let that happen this time. He would not let his jealousy overcome the love that seemed to be hidden within his heart.

All the bickering and thought had taken a quarter of an hour. This worried them and they strained to think of a plan. The commotion around the room had awoken Merry from his tiresome rest. His eyes were no longer bloodshot and he looked well rested. But then, how could one feel fully rested if they were to know that their last hours on earth were ending?

As Farill paced across the room, she walked from wall to wall that contained the barred window. As she approached it, the sun cast a blinding glare on her face. A small stool had been placed beneath the window from the last prisoner kept captive in this cellar. She helped herself onto the stool and looked outside into the village. It was quiet outside, all except the sound of flowing water. She had heard this sound before but did not pay mind to it . Now as she listened, it was more emense. All she could see was the distant river Gwathld flowing southeast to the sea. But surely, that sound could not come from Gwathld. For it was a quiet, yet wide river that flowed silently to the sea. It was very unlikely that that was what her ears had heard.

"What do you see? Asked Merry walking over to her.

"Nothing. It is quiet and noting stirs within the city. It is very strange. I do not like the city itself. It is possessed by the evil one."

As she stared out upon the city, all sense came to her. The despair, the loneliness, the pain. It was all present. She could yet not tell her friends that it was over for she would not bare to spread what she felt inside. In her very heart she knew it was not over somehow, but deep inside, somewhere, something told her that it would end. Maybe not today this very hour but in the future. She grabbed on to the bars of the window and hung her head in despair. The one bar that her left hand grasped squirmed as her weight hung from it. And yet, they were not shaped like bars. They were flat, like she had never seen before. She did not know why they were flat, only once it had been completely covered to act like a wall, but once it contained prisoners, they removed some of them in order to let light flood into the room.

She turned with great nobility and let herself down gracefully from the chair. A large smile filed her face and her eyes were once again alive.

"I have found it!" she exclaimed. "But I shall need your help hobbits."

Sam and Pippin walked over to her.

"What have you found?" Pippin asked her.

"Do you see that bar? The one in the far left corner?"

"Why yes, but what about it? Why is it more important than the rest?" he declared.

"Come and see." She said beckoning them over to the window. Sam reached his arm up to the window and grasped it as Farill had done.

"Its about to come loose! If we can pull it out, we may be able to fit through the hole."

He yanked on the bar, until his arms started to shake rapidly. At one point, he was afraid they would give out from lack of rest, but that ceased to happen. The concrete that cemented the bar on the top was breaking loose, and finally with all his might, he pulled one last time. The bar ripped from the concrete as if the stone had forfeited the fight. He toppled off the stool and onto the floor, the metal bar clanking to the ground and landing only a few steps away. Merry and Pippin ran over to his aid after his triumph. He sat up, holding his head with his large hand, and rubbed his fingers over the bump that had formed on the back of his scull. He pulled his hand away and examined it, for a trickle of blood coated his fingers, but that didn't matter. He had done it and they were all going to be free.

Farill stood over the trap door and hardly noticed that Sam had fallen. She looked over momentarily to see how the procedure was coming along, but to the hobbits, she was in her own little world away from all action and distress. Her face was emotionless and here eyes stared at the heavy door. She was listening very hard for what she knew was coming.

Sam had just stood with the help of his friends when Farill looked up at them with terrifying eyes.

"Hurry, put the barrels back from which they came from!"

Pippin was about to ask why, but before he could she looked him straight in the eye and gave him that look that said, 'there is no time to ask questions now. Just do as I say!'

They all ran to the opposite end of the room and started replacing the barrels one by one. They set the metal rod in the center so they would not loose it. When the last barrel had been set in place, it was silent. And then the sound of a key in the lock could be heard coming from the door. It was time.

The guard opened the wooden door and stepped inside. He glanced back at his partner and whispered something the hobbits could not hear. The second guard left and the first beckoned them to come out. They just stood there as if the world had ended right before their eyes and they were not satisfied with the life they had lived. Maybe their fear was because of this reason, but they did not know. They stood there very stiff as if they were struck dead at that very moment. For they knew it was too late. Their time was ending. They wanted to accept this fate but they couldn't. Their hearts were blinded by what was suppose to happen, and not what was happening right then.

Farill glanced back at the hobbits and looked at them in such a way that everything may or may not be all right. They had been so close to their escape, but now it was too late.

Farill began walking towards the guard, who had not suspected the secret they hid behind their imaginary masks. He stared at her as she walked towards him, for her beauty was too great for his mortal eyes. To him, she glowed with some sort of power, light, that one could not imagine. He grew weak in his body and seemed to fall to her power. But he stood up straight and led them out of the cell room.

Sam looked back at the barrels in the corner. They would escape, somehow. He turned and the guard shut the door behind them.