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I have taken the liberty of creating a genealogy for Gríma Wormtongue. Tolkien tells us that Gríma's father was Gálmód. The Grimtung in this chapter is Gálmód's father, Gríma's grandfather.
Vocabulary
muindor-nîn—my brother
Chapter 4: Sharp Tongue
Aragorn and Legolas had traveled as far as they could by river, and it was now time to beach their boat and take to the land. After first making sure that their boat was well-hidden under brush, the two travelers divided the goblets and tucked them, carefully wrapped, into the bottoms of their packs. The goblets safely stowed, the two friends hoisted their packs and began their march.
They had planned to keep to the outskirts of Fangorn Forest and not enter the lands of the Rohirrim. At length, however, they encountered a fen, and to avoid it they swung further south than they had planned, until they could not avoid entering that that portion of the Gap of Rohan that was undeniably the territory of the Horse-masters. Ai! All too soon Legolas felt the beat of distant horse hooves.
"Should we make for the forest, do you think?" Aragorn asked.
Legolas looked north. He could see no sign of safe footing that way, merely miles and miles of marsh. He shook his head.
"There is no enmity between Elrond and King Fengel of Rohan," he replied, "and the Men of Rohan, while fierce warriors, are said to be courteous to travelers who cross their land without evil intent. Let us await them here." The two slung off their packs and seated themselves cross-legged upon the ground, looking toward the south expectantly.
At length Legolas could make out the standards of a small troop of Rohirrim cavalry. At first it looked as if the troop would pass them by, traveling southeast, but then one of the riders must have spotted the interlopers, for suddenly the troop changed direction and made straight for the spot where Legolas and Aragorn awaited them. The two travelers arose to their feet and stood, their arms resting loosely by their sides, palms turned slightly toward the approaching riders so that they could see that the strangers had no weapons in their grip.
The troop reined up several yards away, spears couched but pointed at the earth, and their leader rode several feet closer, until he loomed over the young Elf and human, both of whom hid their disquiet at his appearance. He lacked facial hair, or so it seemed—no beard or mustache, but also no eyebrows or even eyelashes. This deficiency gave his head a serpentine appearance, an impression strengthened by his heavy-lidded eyes, which glittered like those of a snake about to strike as he scrutinized Elf and human.
"A peculiar pair you make," he challenged. "If is not often an Elf is seen in company with a Man, and I misdoubt some treachery, an alliance between Elves and renegade Men. You come to spy out the land of Rohan, I warrant."
Aragorn was angry at the Rider's rudeness, for it was customary even for those about to do battle to at least exchange names, and this Man had neither stated his nor asked theirs. Legolas felt the young human's anger and shifted subtly to press Aragorn's elbow before the young human could speak and make a difficult situation even worse.
"Master," Legolas said politely, "my friend and I travel in company because, by the leave of Lord Elrond, we are both inhabitants of Imladris, or Rivendell, as you may know it. Even Dwarfs are known to frequent that place."
"But you would not journey with one," sneered the Rider. "Or would you, Elf?"
Legolas was about to reply indignantly that of course he would never travel in company with a Dwarf, but he caught himself. The point was to convince the Rider that there was nothing suspicious about the fact that folk of different race might make common cause. If he declared that he would not travel with a Dwarf, he would be 'cutting off his nose to spite his face', as Men were wont to say.
"If Lord Elrond bade me accompany a Dwarf," he said mildly, "then I would do so. Like you and all folk of honor, I heed the commands of my elders."
A titter of laughter swept through the ranks of the Riders, and Legolas wondered if the amusement arose from his having addressed their leader as a person of honor. If he were not a person of honor, that could bode ill for the travelers. On the other hand, Legolas considered, if his Men did not respect him, that fact could be turned to account. The Elf decided to cultivate the good opinion of the Men who, reining in their high-spirited horses, awaited the orders of their truculent leader.
"Before we departed Rivendell," the Elf declared, speaking loudly enough for all the Men to hear, "one command that Lord Elrond issued us was that we learn about the lands we would travel through. Thus we know well the genealogy of your king, whose ancestry commands respect." As Legolas began to declaim the genealogy of King Fengel, he thought gratefully of his tutor Erestor, who had insisted that he learn the history of Rohan. "Eorl the Young begat Brego," Legolas intoned. "Brego begat Aldor the Old; Aldor the Old begat Frea; Frea begat Freawine; Freawine begat Goldwine; Goldwine begat Deor; Deor begat Gram; Gram begat Hild; Hild begat Frealaf; Frealaf begat Brytta; Brytta begat Walda; Walda begat Folca; Folca begat Folcwine; and Folcwine begat Fengel."
Behind their leader, the Riders murmured approvingly. It impressed them that a foreigner should be so courteous as to have memorized the genealogy of their king. Their leader scowled and tried to reassert his dominance. "Know you, Elf, that all Riders can trace their roots far into the past. We are not rootless people like some ragged beggars who wander the North and style themselves Rangers." He glanced meaningfully at Aragorn. Legolas felt the young human bristle, and again he pressed the young human's elbow. Aragorn stilled, and the Rohan chief began to recite his ancestry. "Listen! Grendel the Aggressor begat Grindan the Bone Crusher; Grindan the Bone Crusher begat Grahem the Contentious; Grahem the Contentious begat Graeme the Fierce-Tempered; Graeme the Fierce-Tempered begat Gram the Quarrelsome; Gram the Quarrelsome begat Gremian the Blood Boiler; Gremian the Blood Boiler begat Grimraed, Giver of Savage Counsel; Grimraed, Giver of Savage Counsel begat Grimnǽder the Savage Serpent; Grimnǽder the Savage Serpent begat Grimtóth Sharp Tooth; Grimtóth Sharp Tooth begat Grimtung Sharp Tongue. I am that Grimtung. Do not cross me!"
"Indeed, I would not think of it," Legolas replied politely. He guessed from the nature of the names that ill-intentions and violent behavior ran true in Grimtung's bloodline. Truly, even if he gained the sympathy of the Rohirrim Men, he would have to be both clever and careful if he and Aragorn were to escape unscathed from the clutches of the Sharp Tongue. "I must confess, Master Grimtung, that I cannot list as many forebears as you," he said. This was true, of course, but only because the lifetime of an Elf encompassed many lives of Men. "I am able to say, however, that I am Anomen, the son of a Woodland Elf. But I beg leave," Legolas continued, "that you allow me to tell you of our errand." Kneeling down, he opened his pack and drew forth a small bundle. Rising to his feet, with a flourish he uncovered an object and held it up to the sun. The light glinted off the facets of a goblet, and again the Riders murmured appreciatively. "Lord Elrond," declaimed Legolas, "entrusted us with an errand, and I would convey to Fengel son of Folcwine, King of Rohan, land of the Horsemasters, this goblet, in token that my folk would drink the health of your liege."
Behind their leader, the Riders nodded approvingly. Elf or no, this stranger was courteous. As for Grimtung, his eyes glittered covetously at the sight of the goblet. It was precious, yes, precious, and he wanted it. He smiled unctuously at the Elf.
"You must pardon my earlier manner, but it is my duty to defend the borders of this land. Now I see that you and your companion mean no harm, and I can assure you that this goblet will be graciously received. But I wonder that your master has sent you afoot on such an errand. It is a long march to Edoras."
"That is true," conceded Legolas, "but Lord Elrond did not say that we had to deliver the goblet into the hands of the King himself. Indeed, I should not presume to ask for an audience with your liege. I would gladly entrust the goblet into the hands of a Man of his household."
"If that is what you wish, I will gladly serve you in your need," Grimtung said hastily. "As you can see, I have been entrusted with the leadership of these Men, and I am numbered amongst the King's counselors, as was my father and his fathers before him."
Legolas looked relieved—as he genuinely was, for matters were proceeding as he had hoped. "Would you, Master Grimtung? My friend and I would be pleased if you would take this goblet so that we might return to our kin."
Listening to Legolas' careful verbal maneuvers, Aragorn hid a smile. His friend had told no lies but had merely allowed Grimtung to believe what he wished. Now Legolas inclined his head and proffered the goblet to the eager Man, who quickly drew the wrappings over it once more and stowed it in his saddle bag. Then he reined his horse about, but his Men cried out in protest.
"Grimtung," protested one Rider, "we cannot depart without breaking bread with these folk. We must show a courtesy equal to theirs."
"We thank you for that offer of hospitality," called Legolas, "but we would not delay you from the defense of your land, for we perceive that you are a patrol charged with the task of securing your borders from such as would harm you and your folk."
"But we shouldn't mind if you left us with some provisions," piped up Aragorn, at last breaking his silence.
Legolas grimaced. "Always hungry, that one," he called apologetically.
The Rohirrim laughed, and the last traces of tension were washed away. One of them urged his horse forward and tossed a saddlebag toward Aragorn, who nimbly caught it. "I have a boy at home, so I know how it is," he smiled. "It takes much provender to raise a young one."
With that he reined about and rejoined his companions, who broke into a gallop as they resumed their patrol. Aragorn and Legolas waited until their standards had dropped below the horizon before resuming their own travels. It wouldn't do for the Rohirrim to see that they headed west toward Lothlórien rather than east toward Rivendell.
"On our return," mused Legolas as they walked, "we shall have to find a way north of that marsh. If those Men come upon us returning from Lothlórien, they will not be so hospitable."
Aragorn, however, paid him no mind, for he was preoccupied with other matters. "A boy," he spluttered. "He called me a boy. And he numbered me amongst the young."
"You are young," laughed Legolas.
"But I am not a boy," protested Aragorn.
Legolas shrugged. "To an Elf, it is hard to tell the difference between a Man and a boy. Perhaps you should grow a beard."
"I will," resolved Aragorn. "Henceforth I shall never be clean shaven."
"I do hope, though, that you will trim your beard from time to time," Legolas added hastily.
"But, Legolas," teased Aragorn, his good humor returning, "it is true, as Grimtung said, that I am a Ranger—or so Halbarad tells me. I am afraid any beard I grow must be scruffy, lest I forfeit my membership in that venerable company. But never mind that," he said, abruptly changing the subject. "Gwadur-nîn, why didn't you tell Grimtung that you were Legolas of Mirkwood, son of King Thranduil, son of Oropher? Perhaps he would have been less suspicious and more polite if he knew that he addressed a prince."
"Estel, you saw how Grimtung coveted the goblet. A prince, too, is a great treasure. Had I told him my name, he might have been tempted to betray me to my foes for a price or to seize me himself in order to extort a ransom from my father. By the by, I notice that you never volunteered your name."
"He didn't ask."
"But if he had, I warrant you wouldn't have told him that you were Aragorn, son of Arathorn, son of Arador, son of—
"Yes, Legolas, I see your point. I have been taught to use the name of Aragorn only when amongst friends, so it is true that I would have told him that I am Estel, orphan and foster-son of Elrond of Imladris."
"Even that name may be dangerous," Legolas said thoughtfully, "for it is an elvish name born by a human. It would raise questions. When you go amongst Men, you had better pick a mannish name."
Aragorn sighed. "Already have one," he grumbled. "When I first accompanied Halbarad to Bree-land, a Man at an inn in Archet said that I must have a great stride to keep up with a Ranger. He must have made the comment to many a Man because when I returned to Bree-land, everyone I met addressed me as 'Strider'."
"When you go amongst the Men of Rohan and of Gondor, you had better pick a name that sounds less common," warned Legolas.
Aragorn nodded. "You are right, Legolas. I will think on it. But there is another matter more pressing."
"Truly? And what might that be?" grinned Legolas, who suspected he knew the answer.
"Since you have given away another goblet," Aragorn pointed out gloomily, "we now once more must present the Lord and the Lady with an odd number of drinking vessels."
"If that is the case, then," jested Legolas, "we shall simply have to contrive to lose another one."
And I warrant we will," grumbled Aragorn. "The only question is, how shall it be done, this time?"
"Let us press onward and find out!" said Legolas cheerfully.
And on they marched.