Chapter 14

Treebeard

The hobbits scurried quickly into the trees so they wouldn't get trampled. Kel and Neal were too drained of energy to move, so Merry and Pippin had to literally drag them over. The humans being twice as big as them, this was no easy task. At last all 4 of them were hidden safely in the trees.

"How do we get out of here?" asked Merry. "We can't very well escape with out hands and legs bound."

Pippin smiled. "And you won't have to," he slipped off the binds around his wrists. "I cut it last night when the orcs were fighting."

Pippin quickly untied everyone else's bonds. They all sat on the forest floor and ate some of the remaining lembas. At last, when everyone was able to stand, they crawled through the trees, as far away from the orc camp as possible, where screams of rage could still be heard. Merry could have sworn that, above all the din, he heard Ugluk's horrible voice shouting desperate orders. He shuddered. Then the shouting stopped and more hooves could be heard.

"Let's get out of here while they're busy," Pippin said.

Neal frowned. "But if they riders are of Rohan there isn't much to fear, is there?"

Kel shrugged. "We don't know if the are the Rohirrim. If we were sure we could go with them, but its so dark its impossible to see their banners or their uniforms. It would be best if we just kept going."

Wearily, all of them climbed to their feet.

"Does anyone know where we are?" asked Pippin, thinking it would be rather pointless to start journeying back to Amon Hen.

Neal made a tutting noise. "Insignificant young hobbit, what were you doing in Rivendell? Frolicking and amusing yourself, I'll wager. Whereas I, educated scholar as I am-"

Kel rolled her eyes and elbowed him, "I think you should know that Pippin is just about twice your age, so if he is young, what does that make you? And you'd think you would have learned as a page to refrain from making speeches," she shook her head, "I can't count the number of times Lord Wyldon threatened to tie your tongue in knots."

"The Stump. . . I wonder if he still remembers me. . . "

Kel shook her head again, "I doubt he could forget, even if he wanted to. In regards to where we are, I'm pretty sure we're on the western border of Fangorn forest. If we can travel south from here, we'll end up in Rohan. But is that where we want to go? We're trying to find Aragorn, but where is he? He probably went off with Frodo."

Pippin didn't think so. "Would he leave us to the orcs? I don't think so."

Neal agreed. "He's not that kind of person. He would have followed our tracks and found us eventually, but it's pointless to stay in this forest so that more orcs come and attack us. We should head for Rohan. If Aragorn has been able to track us to here, he will be able to track us to Rohan as well."

Merry nodded. "Although I do wonder if those riders were the Riders of Rohan. They could have brought us to our destination."

"There's nothing we can do about that now. We may as well get going."

A rustling of leaves was heard behind them. Everyone turned around warily. An orc charges out of the trees, sword in hand. His eyes were wild, consumes by an enrages fire. A deep gash traced through his right cheek. It bled sluggishly, but he paid it no heed. The only thought on his mind was that the hobbits had something he had wanted. . . for a very long time, and now they were getting away. With a mad roar he ran at Merry and Pippin. Having been deprived of weapons by Ugluk, all they could do was run. Their only hope was to keep outrunning the orc until he bled to death or ran out of strength. But judging from the pace and vigour at which he chased them now, it looked as if it was much more likely that the orc would catch up to them and kill them.

In all this Kel and Neal were not standing idly. The ran after the orc, hoping they could catch up to him and pin him to the ground. But they could only drag themselves along at a laborious pace, after an entire day of ceaseless running. The distance between them and the orc increased. . .

Merry tripped over a tree root. Pippin immediately stopped to help his cousin. Before they had a chance to continue running, the orc jumped at them, the dull, rusty edge of his sword promising a very painful and prolonged death. But death never came. Or at least, not for the two hobbits, who watched, amazed, as a tree limb came down and crushed the orc. Kel and Neal ran into the scene to see the hobbits gaping at the orc who seemed to be stuck under a tree root.

"What happened?" Neal gasped, catch his breath.

"The tree!" Pippin exclaimed. "It. . . it stomped on the orc!"

"TREE?" Boomed a voice from high above them.

"Who's there?" Kel looked up, attempting to locate the speaker.

"I am right in front of you," the voice said, with a touch of humour. "Treebeard, some call me. But I am no tree. I am an ent."

All 4 of them looked at the tree in front of them. It had eyes, and a nose, and a mouth.

"What's an ent?" Merry wanted to know.

"We ents," Treebeard began slowly, "are ancient folk. We are not trees. Trees are stationary; they must stay put. But we ents can come and go as we wish."

Kel looked at Treebeard's roots, and sure enough, they looked just like a pair of knobbly feet.

"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt," Kel ventured, "but my friends and I have all suffered grievous wounds. We are exhausted from our journey. Is there a safe place nearby where we can rest and recover from our injuries?"

Treebeard eyes them for a moment. "Indeed, you are a hasty folk. How am I to know that you are not orcs? Orcs fell tress and because they care not about the difference between trees and Ents, they kill us also."

Neal snorted disdainfully. "Those awful bloodthirsty creatures? Do we look like orcs to you?"

"Very well," Treebeard didn't seem at all perturbed by Neal's rudeness. "If you are not orcs, what are you?" He seized the hobbits in one gnarled hand and Kel and Neal in the other.

"We're humans," Kel gestured to her and Neal, "We're men of Gondor."

"And we're hobbits," Pippin said.

"Hobbits?" Treebeard's deep voice growled. "I have never heard of such folk." He started to clench the fist in which he held the hobbits.

"No!" Merry cried. "We're not orcs! We're Halflings, Shire-folk. . ."

Treebeard squeezed even harder. "Orcs kill my folk." He obviously was not listening to Merry.

The pressure of Treebeard's strong grip was starting to cut off the hobbits' breathing.

"No!" Merry gasped. "Please stop! We're not orcs! We're. . ."

Then, the lack of air, along with the excruciating pain from the gash in his forehead, became too much for Merry. He passed out, going completely limp in Treebeard's clenched fist.

"Stop!" Kel shrilled.

Treebeard, startled, relaxed his grip. "I do not think they are orcs," he said at last, as Pippin started gulping as much air as he could.

"Look at what you've done!" Kel screamed, furious. "I cannot believe you had to suffocate them to find out that they were not orcs! Are you at all humane?"

Treebeard glanced over at Merry. "I apologize," he said, slightly shamefaced, "I will bring you to my home. There, all of you shall find rest." He turned to Kel. "I thank you, woman of gondor, for making me aware of what I was doing." Treebeard started walking.

Kel shook her head. "I shouldn't have lost my temper." She sighed and then muttered, "What the Yamanis would think of me now. . ."

Neal patted her shoulder. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Kel. The Yamanis don't control your life."

"I admire them so much though," Kel protested quietly.

"Well, I like you the way you are," Neal said dryly, "If you were too Yamani-ish you wouldn't be the Kel that I know. But then again," he added thoughtfully, "if you were too Tortallan you wouldn't be the Kel that I know either."

Kel yawned, the past day's endless running starting to take effect on her. Neal continued to drawl on about what he thought of Kel being part Yamani, and if he had ever met anyone who was such a perfectionist. When he glanced over at her, she was asleep, her head cradled in a hollow of wood.

"How long until we reach your home?" Neal asked Treebeard.

Treebeard sighed, amused. "You mortals are so hasty," he said, "we will not be there for quite a while. In the meantime, enjoy the forest. You will notice that all the trees look so alive. They are becoming Ent-ish. Becoming alive. . ."

Neal let Treebeard's voice wash over him. The rhythmic thud thud of Treebeard's feet against the ground faded away as his eyelids started to droop. Before long, he, too, was asleep.