XIII. Things are just getting better and better
Tanking a deep breath passed Rumil the book with over to Lindir with a little smile of reassurance for he and his brothers understood that he must feel himself somewhat strange here in the presence of a high number of elven lords and the elvenking. Lindir accepted the book with a little shy smile of his own before setting on to read, it helped a bit that Elrohir scooted slightly closer to him, at least had he someone already familiar near him, but he needed to admit that most of the others were nice to him and didn't look down at him for being a minstrel in training.
"The next chapter…is definitely no reassuring…" he said with a raised eyebrow before reading the title "A knife in the dark"
"Aiya, that is really till now the worst title the book had." Elrohir said a bit worriedly as he looked at the others.
"Lindir, please start reading." Celebrian said kindly to the young elfling, still feeling happy to see how fast her youngest son had taken to they guest and made him feel welcome, Elrohir could be blunt sometimes, a thing he got from his ada, and if you didn't know him some could take his words as offense even thought her son didn't mean it like that. She also found it good that the twins seemed to have found separately friends, Elladan with the young prince and Haldir while Elrohir with Lindir and he also got along with Orophin. Arwen could make friends with anyone so she was never worried about her and she was not a twin and did everything with her siblings like her boys.
"Aye." Lindir answered and started reading.
As they prepared for sleep in the inn at Bree, darkness lay on Buckland; a mist strayed in the dells and along the river-bank. The house at Crickhollow stood silent. Fatty Bolger opened the door cautiously and peered out. A feeling of fear had been growing on him all day, and he was unable to rest or go to bed: there was a brooding threat in the breathless night-air.
"Such things only mean disaster, he really ought to have grabbed himself some king of weapon or something to use as such." Glorfindel said not liking at least that the book was looking back to the fifth companion who was left behind to serve as an alibi, he had a sinking feeling in his stomach.
As he stared out into the gloom, a black shadow moved under the trees; the gate seemed to open of its own accord and close again without a sound. Terror seized him. He shrank back, and for a moment he stood trembling in the hall. Then he shut and locked the door.
"This should have been the first thing on his mind right after the moment he started feeling the danger, but I fear that this wont help all to much." Angränor said in a bitter tone, he shared the same uneasy feeling Glorfindel felt and was sure that the others did the same if not for any others the guarded expressions on they faces, the fists holding onto they tunics or how the elflings clustered closer together gave they feeling away.
May the Valar protect that poor young hobbit for this night, if he survives, will haunt him for the rest of his life in his most dreaded nightmares till the end of his days.
The night deepened. There came the soft sound of horses led with stealth along the lane. Outside the gate they stopped, and three black figures entered,
Lindir's melodious voice trembled as he read this, he dreaded knowing what would happen, sensing this dread leaned Elrohir his head on the others shoulder for the book made it hard to hold his hand, not that anyone would notice what he was doing, they were all to worried and at least was his new friend slightly relaxing from his closeness.
"Three…" Celebrian breathed out as she leaned closer to Elrond, who put his arm around his trembling wife, while with her other hand she grabbed her mother's for support.
The other adults said nothing, one Wraith was bad if they got you, but three…it filled them with both dread and angered disgust, sending tree of them against one defenceless creature like a hobbit who had no clue about the land outside they boarders leave alone how to protect themselves in danger was truly low and inhuman. If they thought that the children had bad nightmares because of the things they had read before then this will easily beat those for till now was this the worst chapter and they had dared to entertain themselves that things will go from now on a bit smoother, ai, they had made a terrible mistake in thinking that.
like shades of night creeping across the ground. One went to the door, one to the corner of the house on either side; and there they stood, as still as the shadows of stones, while night went slowly on. The house and the quiet trees seemed to be waiting breathlessly.
"They have cut down all possible ways of escape form the house." Feanor said in a tight tone and he feared he knew for what they were waiting and it will soon come.
There was a faint stir in the leaves, and a cock crowed far away. The cold hour before dawn was passing. The figure by the door moved. In the dark without moon or stars a drawn blade gleamed, as if a chill light had been unsheathed.
"The Morgul Blade…" Elrond said faintly and the children shuddered in fright and worry.
There was a blow, soft but heavy, and the door shuddered.
'Open, in the name of Mordor!' said a voice thin and menacing.
At a second blow the door yielded and fell back, with timbers burst and lock broken. The black figures passed swiftly in.
Arwen was crying now while mumbling 'No' all over and over, the others paled and closed they eyes willing themselves to not imagine what will come next. No one of them had realised just in how much danger Frodo's other friend who stayed back would be in.
"I…I hope that this will work…" Lindir said in a scared tone which made everyone look at him.
At that moment, among the trees nearby, a horn rang out. It rent the night like fire on a hill-top.
AWAKE! FEAR! FIRE! FOES! AWAKE!
"A signal horn?" Celeborn asked in a stunned tone.
Fatty Bolger had not been idle. As soon as he saw the dark shapes creep from the garden, he knew that he must run for it, or perish. And run he did, out of the back door, through the garden, and over the fields. When he reached the nearest house, more than a mile away, he collapsed on the doorstep. 'No, no, no!' he was crying. 'No, not me! I haven't got it!' It was some time before anyone could make out what he was babbling about. At last they got the idea that enemies were in Buckland, some strange invasion from the Old Forest. And then they lost no more time.
"Nay, they are from a more fouler place, but that hobbit is lucky to have survived with only the shock and terror of such an attack, some were not so lucky." Thranduil said.
FEAR! FIRE! FOES!
The Brandybucks were blowing the Horn-call of Buckland, that had not been sounded for a hundred years, not since the white wolves came in the Fell Winter, when the Brandywine was frozen over.
"At least thy have a way to rouse and alarm if something happens." Miriel stated, she doubted that most of the hobbit villages in the Shire have them.
AWAKE! AWAKE!
Far-away answering horns were heard. The alarm was spreading. The black figures fled from the house. One of them let fall a hobbit-cloak on the step, as he ran. In the lane the noise of hoofs broke out, and gathering to a gallop, went hammering away into the darkness. All about Crickhollow there was the sound of horns blowing, and voices crying and feet running. But the Black Riders rode like a gale to the North-gate. Let the little people blow! Sauron would deal with them later. Meanwhile they had another errand: they knew now that the house was empty and the Ring had gone. They rode down the guards at the gate and vanished from the Shire.
There were many flinches at this, but at least were they gone from the Shire, but this also meant more trouble for Frodo and his friends, they needed to reach Imladris as fast as they could.
In the early night Frodo woke from deep sleep, suddenly, as if some sound or presence had disturbed him. He saw that Strider was sitting alert in his chair: his eyes gleamed in the light of the fire, which had been tended and was burning brightly; but he made no sign or movement.
Frodo soon went to sleep again; but his dreams were again troubled with the noise of wind and of galloping hoofs. The wind seemed to be curling round the house and shaking it; and far off he heard a horn blowing wildly. He opened his eyes, and heard a cock crowing lustily in the inn-yard. Strider had drawn the curtains and pushed back the shutters with a clang. The first grey light of day was in the room, and a cold air was coming through the open window.
As soon as Strider had roused them all, he led the way to their bedrooms. When they saw them they were glad that they had taken his advice:
"It is better listening to those who know what they do." Erestor said in a solemn tone, he had a good guess what they had found when entering the room, he knew this type of routine if they would have been there it would have been swift and painless.
the windows had been forced open and were swinging, and the curtains were flapping; the beds were tossed about, and the bolsters slashed and flung upon the floor; the brown mat was torn to pieces.
"Someone had a tantrum in there." Miriel said while she glanced over at her brother-in-law, fine it was not nice comparing the king with the Nine, but she remembered all to clearly the three times he had literally taken the throne room apart singlehandedly.
Strider immediately went to fetch the landlord. Poor Mr. Butterbur looked sleepy and frightened. He had hardly closed his eyes all night (so he said), but he had never heard a sound.
"No need to worry, those five were in the neighbour room and had not noticed anything." Haldir said in a worried tone, such actions should have had the whole inn aroused from they sleep, but nothing was heard.
'Never has such a thing happened in my time!' he cried, raising his hands in horror. 'Guests unable to sleep in their beds, and good bolsters ruined and all! What are we coming to?'
'Dark times,' said Strider. 'But for the present you may be left in peace, when you have got rid of us. We will leave at once. Never mind about breakfast: a drink and a bite standing will have to do. We shall be packed in a few minutes.'
Mr. Butterbur hurried off to see that their ponies were got ready, and to fetch them a 'bite'. But very soon he came back in dismay. The ponies had vanished!
"And there we have now also this problem." Orophin stated groaning, you cant outrun someone riding a horse.
The stable-doors had all been opened in the night, and they were gone: not only Merry's ponies, but every other horse and beast in the place.
Frodo was crushed by the news. How could they hope to reach Rivendell on foot, pursued by mounted enemies? They might as well set out for the Moon. Strider sat silent for a while, looking at the hobbits, as if he was weighing up their strength and courage.
'Ponies would not help us to escape horsemen,' he said at last, thoughtfully, as if he guessed what Frodo had in mind. 'We should not go much slower on foot, not on the roads that I mean to take. I was going to walk in any case. It is the food and stores that trouble me. We cannot count on getting anything to eat between here and Rivendell, except what we take with us; and we ought to take plenty to spare; for we may be delayed, or forced to go round-about, far out of the direct way. How much are you prepared to carry on your backs?'
"They won't like the sound of that, but it might do them good to not eat so much." Rumil said, he still couldn't understand how one could eat so much and not get sick.
'As much as we must,' said Pippin with a sinking heart, but trying to show that he was tougher than he looked (or felt).
'I can carry enough for two,' said Sam defiantly.
'Can't anything be done, Mr. Butterbur?' asked Frodo. 'Can't we get a couple of ponies in the village, or even one just for the baggage? I don't suppose we could hire them, but we might be able to buy them,' he added, doubtfully, wondering if he could afford it.
'I doubt it,' said the landlord unhappily. 'The two or three riding-ponies that there were in Bree were stabled in my yard, and they're gone. As for other animals, horses or ponies for draught or what not, there are very few of them in Bree, and they won't be for sale. But I'll do what I can. I'll rout out Bob and send him round as soon as may be.'
'Yes,' said Strider reluctantly, 'you had better do that. I am afraid we shall have to try to get one pony at least. But so ends all hope of starting early, and slipping away quietly! We might as well have blown a horn to announce our departure. That was part of their plan, no doubt.'
"Aye, it certainly has they signature on it." Thrandil said bitterly.
'There is one crumb of comfort,' said Merry, 'and more than a crumb, I hope: we can have breakfast while we wait – and sit down to it. Let's get hold of Nob!'
"Arg…I will never get this habbit by hobbits!" Rumil groaned in frustration not noticing how both his older brothers signaled for everyone to just ignore him for the time being.
In the end there was more than three hours' delay. Bob came back with the report that no horse or pony was to be got for love or money in the neighbourhood – except one: Bill Ferny had one that he might possibly sell.
Lindir suddenly stopped reading, his eyes flashing in anger as he looked down at the sentence he had just read.
"Why that vile…I can't believe such cruelty." he growled gaining concerned looks from the others.
"Lindir wha…" Elrohir leaned over the book to look at the sentence his face growing dark at what he had read. "On the other hand, I perfectly understand." he growled.
"Children?" Elrond asked in confusion, but Lindir decided to finally read what had him and the other so agitated.
'A poor old half-starved creature it is,'
"WHAATT!" come the chorus of angry yells from everyone, elves always tended to live together with the nature and to respect it and could not believe that one would let they poor beast starve. Horses could be loyal creatures who even after they master should fall in battle they stand over the dead body protecting the lifeless form of they rider with they own lives.
"Thranduil, if you should happen to visit Bree either in my or only Bilbo's company, make a visit to that worm and if he should have that poor fellow get him away from there." Miriel hissed, both she and her sister had been excellent riders, she could never imagine treating her horse like that.
"I'm feeling obliged to get some rohirin to visit Bree with me and to accidentally walk by at that house." Glorfindel mumbled, ai they would not react to kindly by the sight of that poor thing, he would never make Asfaloth starve even in his old age.
said Bob; 'but he won't part with it for less than thrice its worth, seeing how you're placed, not if I knows Bill Ferny.'
'Bill Ferny?' said Frodo. 'Isn't there some trick? Wouldn't the beast bolt back to him with all our stuff, or help in tracking us, or something?'
"Doubt it." come it from all elves.
'I wonder,' said Strider. 'But I cannot imagine any animal running home to him, once it got away. I fancy this is only an afterthought of kind Master Ferny's: just a way of increasing his profits from the affair. The chief danger is that the poor beast is probably at death's door. But there does not seem any choice. What does he want for it?'
Bill Ferny's price was twelve silver pennies; and that was indeed at least three times the pony's value in those pans. It proved to be a bony, underfed, and dispirited animal;
More growls and mumbled threats could be heard from the elven party.
but it did not look like dying just yet. Mr. Butterbur paid for it himself, and offered Merry another eighteen pence as some compensation for the lost animals. He was an honest man,
The sentence was greeted by many nods.
and well-off as things were reckoned in Bree; but thirty silver pennies was a sore blow to him, and being cheated by Bill Ferny made it harder to bear.
As a matter of fact he came out on the right side in the end. It turned out later that only one horse had been actually stolen. The others had been driven off, or had bolted in terror, and were found wandering in different corners of the Bree-land. Merry's ponies had escaped altogether, and eventually (having a good deal of sense) they made their way to the Downs in search of Fatty Lumpkin. So they came under the care of Tom Bombadil for a while, and were well-off. But when news of the events at Bree came to Tom's ears, he sent them to Mr. Butterbur, who thus got five good beasts at a very fair price. They had to work harder in Bree, but Bob treated them well; so on the whole they were lucky: they missed a dark and dangerous journey. But they never came to Rivendell.
"To bad for them on the last part, but at least turned things for them out fine." Orophin said.
However, in the meanwhile for all Mr. Butterbur knew his money was gone for good, or for bad. And he had other troubles. For there was a great commotion as soon as the remaining guests were astir and heard news of the raid on the inn. The southern travellers had lost several horses and blamed the innkeeper loudly, until it became known that one of their own number had also disappeared in the night, none other than Bill Ferny's squint-eyed companion. Suspicion fell on him at once.
"Good, place the blame on those who deserve it." Elladan said in a firm tone, he didn't like unjust things.
'If you pick up with a horse-thief, and bring him to my house,' said Butterbur angrily, 'you ought to pay for all the damage yourselves and not come shouting at me. Go and ask Ferny where your handsome friend is!' But it appeared that he was nobody's friend, and nobody could recollect when he had joined their party.
After their breakfast the hobbits had to re-pack, and get together further supplies for the longer journey they were now expecting. It was close on ten o'clock before they at last got off. By that time the whole of Bree was buzzing with excitement. Frodo's vanishing trick; the appearance of the black horsemen; the robbing of the stables; and not least the news that Strider the Ranger had joined the mysterious hobbits, made such a tale as would last for many uneventful years. Most of the inhabitants of Bree and Staddle, and many even from Combe and Archet, were crowded in the road to see the travellers start. The other guests in the inn were at the doors or hanging out of the windows.
"Really…" Lindir said while shaking his head.
Strider had changed his mind, and he decided to leave Bree by the main road. Any attempt to set off across country at once would only make matters worse: half the inhabitants would follow them, to see what they were up to, and to prevent them from trespassing.
They said farewell to Nob and Bob, and took leave of Mr. Butterbur with many thanks. 'I hope we shall meet again some day, when things are merry once more,' said Frodo. 'I should like nothing better than to stay in your house in peace for a while.'
They tramped off, anxious and downhearted, under the eyes of the crowd. Not all the faces were friendly, nor all the words that were shouted. But Strider seemed to be held in awe by most of the Bree-landers, and those that he stared at shut their mouths and drew away.
"Ai, he has your intimidating skills meldir." Celeborn said in an amused tone to the glaring king, so he missed the large number of nods to his sworn brother's statement.
He walked in front with Frodo; next came Merry and Pippin; and last came Sam leading the pony, which was laden with as much of their baggage as they had the heart to give it; but already it looked less dejected, as if it approved of the change in its fortunes.
"That is good to hear." Celebrian said softly feeling glad for the poor animal.
Sam was chewing an apple thoughtfully. He had a pocket full of them: a parting present from Nob and Bob. 'Apples for walking, and a pipe for sitting,' he said. 'But I reckon I'll miss them both before long.'
The hobbits took no notice of the inquisitive heads that peeped out of doors, or popped over walls and fences, as they passed. But as they drew near to the further gate, Frodo saw a dark ill-kept house behind a thick hedge: the last house in the village. In one of the windows he caught a glimpse of a sallow face with sly, slanting eyes; but it vanished at once.
'So that's where that southerner is hiding!' he thought. 'He looks more than half like a goblin.'
"A good comparison." Glorfindel said with a dark grin on his lips.
Over the hedge another man was staring boldly. He had heavy black brows, and dark scornful eyes; his large mouth curled in a sneer. He was smoking a short black pipe. As they approached he took it out of his mouth and spat.
"Ewww…" come it from the elflings.
'Morning, Longshanks!' he said. 'Off early? Found some friends at last?' Strider nodded, but did not answer. 'Morning, my little friends!' he said to the others. 'I suppose you know who you've taken up with? That's Stick-at-naught Strider, that is! Though I've heard other names not so pretty. Watch out tonight! And you, Sammie, don't go ill-treating my poor old pony! Pah!' He spat again.
All elves were staring darkly at the book, the nerve of that person.
"I think it was worth it." Lindir said suddenly with a smirk on his lips.
Sam turned quickly. 'And you. Ferny,' he said, 'put your ugly face out of sight, or it will get hurt.' With a sudden flick, quick as lightning, an apple left his hand and hit Bill square on the nose. He ducked too late, and curses came from behind the hedge. 'Waste of a good apple,' said Sam regretfully, and strode on.
There were many smirks about the situation, and this was only the nice part about what that man would get from them.
At last they left the village behind. The escort of children and stragglers that had followed them got tired and turned back at the South-gate. Passing through, they kept on along the Road for some miles. It bent to the left, curving back into its eastward line as it rounded the feet of Bree-hill, and then it began to run swiftly downwards into wooded country. To their left they could see some of the houses and hobbit-holes of Staddle on the gentler south-eastern slopes of the hill; down in a deep hollow away north of the Road there were wisps of rising smoke that showed where Combe lay;
Archet was hidden in the trees beyond.
After the Road had run down some way, and had left Breehill standing tall and brown behind, they came on a narrow track that led off towards the North. 'This is where we leave the open and take to cover,' said Strider.
'Not a "short cut", I hope,' said Pippin. 'Our last short cut through woods nearly ended in disaster.'
"No need to remind us on that one." Elrohir mumbled.
'Ah, but you had not got me with you then,' laughed Strider. 'My cuts, short or long, don't go wrong.' He took a look up and down the Road. No one was in sight; and he led the way quickly down towards the wooded valley.
His plan, as far as they could understand it without knowing the country, was to go towards Archet at first, but to bear right and pass it on the east, and then to steer as straight as he could over the wild lands to Weathertop Hill. In that way they would, if all went well, cut off a great loop of the Road, which further on bent southwards to avoid the Midgewater Marshes. But, of course, they would have to pass through the marshes themselves, and Strider's description of them was not encouraging.
However, in the meanwhile, walking was not unpleasant. Indeed, if it had not been for the disturbing events of the night before, they would have enjoyed this pan of the journey better than any up to that time. The sun was shining, clear but not too hot. The woods in the valley were still leafy and full of colour, and seemed peaceful and wholesome. Strider guided them confidently among the many crossing paths, although left to themselves they would soon have been at a loss. He was taking a wandering course with many turns and doublings, to put off any pursuit.
'Bill Ferny will have watched where we left the Road, for certain,' he said; 'though I don't think he will follow us himself. He knows the land round here well enough, but he knows he is not a match for me in a wood. It is what he may tell others that I am afraid of. I don't suppose they are far away. If they think we have made for Archet, so much the better.'
"At least he knows what he is doing." Feanor said, if the hobbits would have left alone they would have been already captured or running from danger.
Whether because of Strider's skill or for some other reason, they saw no sign and heard no sound of any other living thing all that day: neither two-footed, except birds; nor four-footed, except one fox and a few squirrels. The next day they began to steer a steady course eastwards; and still all was quiet and peaceful. On the third day out from Bree they came out of the Chetwood. The land had been falling steadily, ever since they turned aside from the Road, and they now entered a wide flat expanse of country, much more difficult to manage. They were far beyond the borders of the Bree-land, out in the pathless wilderness, and drawing near to the Midge-water Marshes.
The ground now became damp, and in places boggy and here and there they came upon pools, and wide stretches of reeds and rushes filled with the warbling of little hidden birds. They had to pick their way carefully to keep both dry-footed and on their proper course. At first they made fan-progress, but as they went on, their passage became slower and more dangerous. The marshes were bewildering and treacherous, and there was no permanent trail even for Rangers to find through their shifting quagmires. The flies began to torment them, and the air was full of clouds of tiny midges that crept up their sleeves and breeches and into their hair.
"Not an easy path to go, but useful if they pursuers should notice that they got tricked." Angränor said in an approving tone.
'I am being eaten alive!' cried Pippin. 'Midgewater! There are more midges than water!'
"Ewww…" Arwen said while wrinkling her nose in disgust.
'What do they live on when they can't get hobbit?' asked Sam, scratching his neck.
They spent a miserable day in this lonely and unpleasant country. Their camping-place was damp, cold, and uncomfortable; and the biting insects would not let them sleep. There were also abominable creatures haunting the reeds and tussocks that from the sound of them were evil relatives of the cricket.
Some of the elflings chuckled at this part of the statement.
There were thousands of them, and they squeaked all round, neek-breek, breek-neek, unceasingly all the night, until the hobbits were nearly frantic.
There were even more sniggers and this time even Glorfindel took part in it, ai, those evil crickets who would not let you have your deserved sleep, truly creatures of great evil.
The next day, the fourth, was little better, and the night almost as comfortless. Though the Neekerbreekers (as Sam called them) had been left behind, the midges still pursued them.
"Those should be the least of they problems." Thranduil and Erestor said at the same time which earned them some sniggers while Glorfindel turned to Elrond.
"They are now way to comfortable with the other." he hissed while looking at the blushing pair.
"We need to try a seat shifting after everyone had read." he said back to which the other nodded.
As Frodo lay, tired but unable to close his eyes, it seemed to him that far away there came a light in the eastern sky: it flashed and faded many times. It was not the dawn, for that was still some hours off.
Everyone raised an eyebrow at that.
'What is the light?' he said to Strider, who had risen, and was standing, gazing ahead into the night.
'I do not know,' Strider answered. 'It is too distant to make out. It is like lightning that leaps up from the hill-tops.'
Frodo lay down again, but for a long while he could still see the white flashes, and against them the tall dark figure of Strider, standing silent and watchful. At last he passed into uneasy sleep.
They had not gone far on the fifth day when they left the last straggling pools and reed-beds of the marshes behind them. The land before them began steadily to rise again. Away in the distance eastward they could now see a line of hills. The highest of them was at the right of the line and a little separated from the others. It had a conical top, slightly flattened at the summit.
"Ai, they are finally there." Glorfindel stated as he recigrinaised the description of that place.
'That is Weathertop,' said Strider. 'The Old Road, which we have left far away on our right, runs to the south of it and passes not far from its foot. We might reach it by noon tomorrow, if we go straight towards it. I suppose we had better do so.'
'What do you mean?' asked Frodo.
'I mean: when we do get there, it is not certain what we shall find. It is close to the Road.'
"That is true, someone could spot them." Glorfindel said in a thoughtful tone.
"And they adversaries could have easily placed spies all around the main road knowing that sometime they would need to pass by some places." Angränor added in to the other generals words.
"Then let us hope that things will not end up as bad as they have before." Elladan said as he gestured for Lindir to continue.
'But surely we were hoping to find Gandalf there?'
'Yes; but the hope is faint. If he comes this way at all, he may not pass through Bree, and so he may not know what we are doing. And anyway, unless by luck we arrive almost together, we shall miss one another; it will not be safe for him or for us to wait there long.
"That is really true, there are only slight chances for them to arrive at the same time and staying could easily mean the end of they quest." Elrond needed to agree with Aragorn, he had a good view on they situation and was taking the right steps.
If the Riders fail to find us in the wilderness, they are likely to make for Weathertop themselves. It commands a wide view all round. Indeed, there are many birds and beasts in this country that could see us, as we stand here, from that hill-top. Not all the birds are to be trusted, and there are other spies more evil than they are.'
All elflings except Legolas looked wide eyed at this, they had not know that the enemy is also using spies from who you wouldn't even know what they truly were, they always thought that those were all evil men or some type of monster and not normal looking creatures like birds.
The hobbits looked anxiously at the distant hills. Sam looked up into the pale sky, fearing to see hawks or eagles hovering over them with bright unfriendly eyes.
"Those would be good news, the eagles are on our side and would never desert us for they serve Manwä with all they heart." Elrond said in a calm amused voice at which the Wood Elves nodded, they were truly a blessing in the War of the Five Armies back then.
'You do make me feel uncomfortable and lonesome, Strider!' he said.
"As if you all can talk by the amount of heart attacks you had given us Master Samwise." Orophin pointed out as his siblings and friends nodded in agreement.
'What do you advise us to do?' asked Frodo.
'I think,' answered Strider slowly, as if he was not quite sure, 'I think the best thing is to go as straight eastward from here as we can, to make for the line of hills, not for Weathertop. There we can strike a path I know that runs at their feet; it will bring us to Weathertop from the north and less openly. Then we shall see what we shall see.'
All that day they plodded along, until the cold and early evening came down. The land became drier and more barren; but mists and vapours lay behind them on the marshes. A few melancholy birds were piping and wailing, until the round red sun sank slowly into the western shadows; then an empty silence fell. The hobbits thought of the soft light of sunset glancing through the cheerful windows of Bag End far away.
At the day's end they came to a stream that wandered down from the hills to lose itself in the stagnant marshland, and they went up along its banks while the light lasted. It was already night when at last they halted and made their camp under some stunted alder-trees by the shores of the stream. Ahead there loomed now against the dusky sky the bleak and treeless backs of the hills. That night they set a watch, and Strider, it seemed, did not sleep at all. The moon was waxing, and in the early night-hours a cold grey light lay on the land.
'I know someone who loved dancing under the moon light or just singing to it, always laughing and saying that the light of the moon is not as cold as some might think then for her it feels like a soft caress on the skin, like a mother holding her child gently.' thought Glorfindel with a faint smile on his lips as he remembered times long past, not knowing that two other elves were remembering a kind king who always took them out as elflings to walk under Ithil's light even thought the stars were faint, but he felt more connect with the moon then them.
Next morning they set out again soon after sunrise. There was a frost in the air, and the sky was a pale clear blue. The hobbits felt refreshed, as if they had had a night of unbroken sleep. Already they were getting used to much walking on short commons – shorter at any rate than what in the Shire they would have thought barely enough to keep them on their legs. Pippin declared that Frodo was looking twice the hobbit that he had been.
'Very odd,' said Frodo, tightening his belt, 'considering that there is actually a good deal less of me. I hope the thinning process will not go on indefinitely, or I shall become a wraith.'
"Nay Frodo, don't compare yourself to those things." Arwen said while shaking her head.
'Do not speak of such things!' said Strider quickly, and with surprising earnestness.
"See, Aragorn is agreeing with me." she said confidently.
The hills drew nearer. They made an undulating ridge, often rising almost to a thousand feet, and here and there falling again to low clefts or passes leading into the eastern land beyond. Along the crest of the ridge the hobbits could see what looked to be the remains of green-grown walls and dikes, and in the clefts there still stood the ruins of old works of stone. By night they had reached the feet of the westward slopes, and there they camped. It was the night of the fifth of October, and they were six days out from Bree.
In the morning they found, for the first time since they had left the Chetwood, a track plain to see. They turned right and followed it southwards. It ran cunningly, taking a line that seemed chosen so as to keep as much hidden as possible from the view, both of the hill-tops above and of the flats to the west. It dived into dells, and hugged steep banks; and where it passed over flatter and more open ground on either side of it there were lines of large boulders and hewn stones that screened the travellers almost like a hedge.
"And again some nostalgic memories from the past." Celeborn said as he remembered what had happened there.
"Aye, I fear this book will be full of those." Elrond said sighing, some memories were better to be left resting and not be read out loud like this, but there was no way around it, the past was always important for the present and had could show you the things you should not repeat.
'I wonder who made this path, and what for,' said Merry, as they walked along one of these avenues, where the stones were unusually large and closely set. 'I am not sure that I like it: it has a – well, rather a barrow-wightish look. Is there any barrow on Weathertop?'
'No. There is no barrow on Weathertop, nor on any of these hills,' answered Strider. 'The Men of the West did not live here; though in their latter days they defended the hills for a while against the evil that came out of Angmar. This path was made to serve the forts along the walls. But long before, in the first days of the North Kingdom, they built a great watch-tower on Weathertop, Amon Sûl they called it. It was burned and broken, and nothing remains of it now but a tumbled ring, like a rough crown on the old hill's head. Yet once it was tall and fair.
Some of the adult elves smiled, it had been truly a fair sight, the slender tower over the hill gleaming in the sunlight as a sign of hope and determination in those dark times of the Second Age.
Meanwhile had Lindir read a bit further, he was unsure to read the upcoming part for he knew that it would stir sad memories in the hearts of some of the lords once and still proud warrior's hearts, but taking a deep breath he continued.
It is told that Elendil stood there watching for the coming of Gilgalad out of the West, in the days of the Last Alliance.'
"Thus he truly did." Elrond said softly as he remembered his High-King embracing the King of Gondor like a brother as he come down to greet they army, it was the strange sound coming from Lindir which had brought him out of his memories.
"Goheno nin." he said while bitting back a chuckle "it is only that I really didn't know that the knowledge of most hobbits is this slight about things outside of they land." he said before continuing with his reading.
The hobbits gazed at Strider. It seemed that he was learned in old lore, as well as in the ways of the wild. 'Who was Gilgalad?' asked Merry;
Many jawas dropped at this innocent question while some of the others joined Lindir in snickering for this was someting everyone knew.
"How much attention had they pain to Bilbo for I'm sure he had mentioned him." Thranduil asked in shock, he held a sore spot for the High-King in his heart, for he was sure that the help party to aid his father was to late on purpose, but still not knowing who he was.
" Well some paid attention." Lindir said, but he felt again a bit nervous seeing that he planned to become a full minstrel and work here in the Last Homely House, but that only went if the Lord aproved of his skills and this reading might be even a deciding factor as to how he performed the song in here. Reminding himself that Elrohir had liked his singing, so there might be a chance that his adar will also like it, he would never know if he didn't try.
but Strider did not answer, and seemed to be lost in thought. Suddenly a low voice murmured:
Here was the time of truth.
Gil-galad was an Elven-king.
Of him the harpers sadly sing:
the last whose realm was fair and free
between the Mountains and the Sea.
His sword was long, his lance was keen,
his shining helm afar was seen;
the countless stars of heaven's field
were mirrored in his silver shield.
But long ago he rode away,
and where he dwelleth none can say;
for into darkness fell his star
in Mordor where the shadows are.
There was clapping from everyone when Lindir finished, it really did his confidence good as he saw the appreciating looks sent his way while Elrohir mouted 'I told you so' in his direction.
"That was a really well made little performance, I will talk later tonight with Aunril our Head Minstrel, he and his men were since a while complaining that they were short on members and there were to many requests they could not do because of this." Elrond said to the young blonde.
"Thank you my Lord." Lindir said he was truly happy that now he could fulfil his wish while beside him was Elrohir trying to not look all to pleased about the fact that his new friend would be a minstrel in they house, but Elladan still noticed and felt a strange gladness and hope that there was not something binding his brother to eternal life.
"Frodo really is good in reciting elven poetry and songs." Orophin said.
"Uh…that was not Frodo." Lindir said surprising everyone.
"Ai, I should have known, Frodo is an Elf-Friend, but there is also another in they group who is a fan of us." Celeborn said as he realized who had recited a part of that old ballad, but he was surprised to hear it in the common tongue then for his knowledge existed it only in an ancient language only a few knowing.
The others turned in amazement, for the voice was Sam's.
"That proves it that I have guessed right." said the Lord of the Golden Wood smiling.
'Don't stop!' said Merry.
'That's all I know,' stammered Sam, blushing. 'I learned it from Mr. Bilbo when I was a lad. He used to tell me tales like that, knowing how I was always one for hearing about Elves. It was Mr. Bilbo as taught me my letters. He was mighty book-learned was dear old Mr. Bilbo. And he wrote poetry. He wrote what I have just said.'
'He did not make it up,' said Strider. 'It is pan of the lay that is called The Fall of Gil-galad, which is in an ancient tongue. Bilbo must have translated it. I never knew that.'
Elrond sat suddenly up straighter as he looked at Thranduil before saying in his most non-disagrement tone;
"I will be coming with you to meet him." he said firmly, as a Lore Master he had to meet this hobbit for even under them were only a few translating the old lores to the tongues of others and to have made such an accurate translation from those ancient words was a truly great knowledge needed. If he should have held even the faintest of doubts in both his mind and heart about the kings decision to name Bilbo Baggins an Elf-Friend then by now those thought would have been dissolved for he would have given him the title if the king didn't.
'There was a lot more,' said Sam, 'all about Mordor. I didn't learn that part, it gave me the shivers I never thought I should be going that way myself!'
'Going to Mordor!' cried Pippin. 'I hope it won't come to that!'
"Sorry to disappoint you, but I fear that this is exactly where your way is heading." Legolas said while not trying to shudder at the thought of the land claiming his daeradar's and most of his men's lives.
'Do not speak that name so loudly!' said Strider.
It was already mid-day when they drew near the southern end of the path, and saw before them, in the pale clear light of the October sun, a grey-green bank, leading up like a bridge on to the northward slope of the hill They decided to make for the top at once, while the daylight was broad Concealment was no longer possible, and they could only hope that no enemy or spy was observing them. Nothing was to be seen moving on the hill. If Gandalf was anywhere about, there was no sign of him.
On the western flank of Weathertop they found a sheltered hollow, at the bottom of which there was a bowl-shaped dell with grassy sides. There they left Sam and Pippin with the pony and their packs and luggage. The other three went on. After half an hour's plodding climb Strider reached the crown of the hill; Frodo and Merry followed, tired and breathless. The last slope had been steep and rocky.
On the top they found, as Strider had said, a wide ring of ancient stonework, now crumbling or covered with age-long grass. But in the centre a cairn of broken stones had been piled. They were blackened as if with fire. About them the turf was burned to the roots and all within the ring the grass was scorched and shrivelled, as if flames had swept the hill-top; but there was no sign of any living thing.
Those of whom knew what had fully happened looked bitterly at the ground, so many were lost and so much was destroyed.
Standing upon the rim of the ruined circle, they saw all round below them a wide prospect, for the most pan of lands empty and featureless, except for patches of woodland away to the south, beyond which they caught here and there the glint of distant water. Beneath them on this southern side there ran like a ribbon the Old Road, coming out of the West and winding up and down, until it faded behind a ridge of dark land to the east. Nothing was moving on it. Following its line eastward with their eyes they saw the Mountains: the nearer foothills were brown and sombre; behind them stood taller shapes of grey, and behind those again were high white peaks glimmering among the clouds.
'Well, here we are!' said Merry. 'And very cheerless and uninviting it looks! There is no water and no shelter. And no sign of Gandalf. But I don't blame him for not waiting – if he ever came here.'
'I wonder,' said Strider, looking round thoughtfully. 'Even if he was a day or two behind us at Bree, he could have arrived here first. He can ride very swiftly when need presses.' Suddenly he stooped and looked at the stone on the top of the cairn; it was flatter than the others, and whiter, as if it had escaped the fire. He picked it up and examined it, turning it in his fingers. "This has been handled recently,' he said. 'What do you think of these marks?'
"They could easily be a message." Feanor said in realization.
On the flat under-side Frodo saw some scratches: 'There seems to he a stroke, a dot, and three more strokes,' he said.
'The stroke on the left might be a G-rune with thin branches,' said Strider. 'It might be a sign left by Gandalf, though one cannot be sure. The scratches are fine, and they certainly look fresh. But the marks might mean something quite different, and have nothing to do with us. Rangers use runes, and they come here sometimes.'
"Which is usually a clever idea, we use bird calls at home to communicate with others and other signs the enemy would not identify as messages." Legolas said in a delighted tone, he knew already a good deal of the different bird voices his people used and what they meant.
"Uh…that is great Legolas…" Elladan said faintly, his friend went through to much in his option no matter how he looked at it, a sudden startled sound made them all turn in Glorfindel's direction who had jumped up from his seat, looking pale, his eyes wide.
"Glorfindel?" Elrond asked his friend and general.
"Uhm…did any of you see the Archery Masters or the soldiers return to the barracks as we went lunch?" he asked hesitantly, but no one replied.
"If it should help Lord Glorfindel, uncle said that he went in the morning to the barracks because the soldiers failed to make an appearance to shift changing and he was silently complaining about them not having even touched they beds.
There was a deep silence at this sentence making everyone exchange unbelieving glances with each other.
"Don't tell me that they are still out on the archery fields training…" Elrond said faintly as realization dawned at him.
"I told them to train till they feel as if they arms would fall of, but I hadn't meant it this literally!" exclaimed the golden haired Balrog Slayer as both he and his lord excused themselves to get they soldiers to stop training and escort them to the Hall of Healing.
"That will hurt really bad for a few weeks." Legolas said remembering how his fingers and arms hurt when he once overdid it with his training, his aunt had scolded him througfully for being so careless.
'What could they mean, even if Gandalf made them?' asked Merry
'I should say,' answered Strider, 'that they stood for G3, and were a sign that Gandalf was here on October the third: that is three days ago now. It would also show that he was in a hurry and danger was at hand, so that he had no time or did not dare to write anything longer or plainer. If that is so, we must be wary.'
"As they should."
'I wish we could feel sure that he made the marks, whatever they may mean,' said Frodo 'It would be a great comfort to know that he was on the way, in front of us or behind us.'
'Perhaps,' said Strider. 'For myself, I believe that he was here, and was in danger. There have been scorching flames here; and now the light that we saw three nights ago in the eastern sky comes back to my mind. I guess that he was attacked on this hill-top, but with what result I cannot tell. He is here no longer, and we must now look after ourselves and make our own way to Rivendell, as best we can '
They hearts sank at hearing this, so those lights come from the battle between the old Istari and his attacker or attackers, they hoped that it was a battle in Mithrandir's favour.
'How far is Rivendell?' asked Merry, gazing round wearily. The world looked wild and wide from Weathertop.
'I don't know if the Road has ever been measured in miles beyond the Forsaken Inn, a day's journey east of Bree,' answered Strider.
"Nay, neither road to the four last elven lived realms was ever measured in miles." Galadriel said if not for anything other then to calm her worry for her old friend.
'Some say it is so far, and some say otherwise. It is a strange road, and folk are glad to reach their journey's end, whether the time is long or short. But I know how long it would take me on my own feet, with fair weather and no ill fortune twelve days from here to the Ford of Bruinen, where the Road crosses the Loudwater that runs out of Rivendell. We have at least a fortnight's journey before us, for I do not think we shall be able to use the Road.'
'A fortnight!' said Frodo. 'A lot may happen in that time.'
'It may,' said Strider.
No one liked the prospect of that, but they will need to deal with it.
They stood for a while silent on the hill-top, near its southward edge. In that lonely place Frodo for the first time fully realized his homelessness and danger. He wished bitterly that his fortune had left him in the quiet and beloved Shire. He stared down at the hateful Road, leading back westward – to his home. Suddenly he was aware that two black specks were moving slowly along it, going westward; and looking again he saw that three others were creeping eastward to meet them. He gave a cry and clutched Strider's arm.
"Five of them? That is not good, they should not make anything to gain they notice." Angränor said before slapping his forehead with his hand.
"Man raica ten?" Feanor asked the other because of his strange behaviour.
"He only has two of the hobbits with him." he groaned at which the others either flinched, shook they heads or groaned, they would be discovered soon.
'Look,' he said, pointing downwards.
At once Strider flung himself on the ground behind the ruined circle, pulling Frodo down beside him. Merry threw himself alongside.
"Good that you did it, but sadly this only gets you a few short minutes." Haldir said, why were so many things going wrong on this journey.
'What is it?' he whispered.
'I do not know, but I fear the worst,' answered Strider.
Slowly they crawled up to the edge of the ring again, and peered through a cleft between two jagged stones. The light was no longer bright, for the clear morning had faded, and clouds creeping out of the East had now overtaken the sun, as it began to go down. They could all see the black specks, but neither Frodo nor Merry could make out their shapes for certain; yet something told them that there, far below, were Black Riders assembling on the Road beyond the foot of the hill.
'Yes,' said Strider, whose keener sight left him in no doubt. 'The enemy is here!'
Hastily they crept away and slipped down the north side of the hill to find their companions.
"Ai, looks like they had not made them be noticed, but still caused some little problem." Lindir suddenly said before continuing, but he was interrupted by the brown haired elven lady sitting beside the king of the Woodland Realm.
"I will go help out Lord Elrond in the healing ward, it might so faster if there is one healer more, mostly one who has experience with most of the lesser known injuries you can get if overdoing training with a bow. Please continue while we are gone." Miriel said as she made her way out of the garden.
Sam and Peregrin had not been idle. They had explored the small dell and the surrounding slopes. Not far away they found a spring of clear water in the hillside, and near it footprints not more than a day or two old. In the dell itself they found recent traces of a fire, and other signs of a hasty camp. There were some fallen rocks on the edge of the dell nearest to the hill. Behind them Sam came upon a small store of firewood neatly stacked.
'I wonder if old Gandalf has been here,' he said to Pippin. 'Whoever it was put this stuff here meant to come back it seems.'
Strider was greatly interested in these discoveries. 'I wish I had waited and explored the ground down here myself,' he said, hurrying off to the spring to examine the footprints.
"I think now I understand the trouble they have caused." Elrohir said as he remembered the things he learned about scouting.
'It is just as I feared,' he said, when he came back. 'Sam and Pippin have trampled the soft ground, and the marks are spoilt or confused. Rangers have been here lately. It is they who left the firewood behind. But there are also several newer tracks that were not made by Rangers. At least one set was made, only a day or two ago, by heavy boots. At least one. I cannot now be certain, but I think there were many booted feet.' He paused and stood in anxious thought.
Each of the hobbits saw in his mind a vision of the cloaked and booted Riders. If the horsemen had already found the dell, the sooner Strider led them somewhere else the better. Sam viewed the hollow with great dislike, now that he had heard news of their enemies on the Road, only a few miles away.
'Hadn't we better clear out quick, Mr. Strider?' he asked impatiently. 'It is getting late, and I don't like this hole: it makes my heart sink somehow.'
'Yes, we certainly must decide what to do at once,' answered Strider, looking up and considering the time and the weather. 'Well, Sam,' he said at last, 'I do not like this place either; but I cannot think of anywhere better that we could reach before nightfall. At least we are out of sight for the moment, and if we moved we should be much more likely to be seen by spies. All we could do would be to go right out of our way back north on this side of the line of hills, where the land is all much the same as it is here. The Road is watched, but we should have to cross it, if we tried to take cover in the thickets away to the south. On the north side of the Road beyond the hills the country is bare and flat for miles.'
Lindir gave suddenly a little shudder, whas it turly necesseary to ask that question?
"Is something wrong?" Elrohir asked concerned, but the other shook his head to signal that he will soon see.
'Can the Riders see?' asked Merry. 'I mean, they seem usually to have used their noses rather than their eyes, smelling for us, if smelling is the right word, at least in the daylight. But you made us lie down flat when you saw them down below; and now you talk of being seen, if we move.'
"Ugh…I see…" the elven knight replied.
"If you found that bad then you will love the answer to it." Lindir said bitterly as everyone braced themselves, even thought they could live without the answer.
'I was too careless on the hill-top,' answered Strider. 'I was very anxious to find some sign of Gandalf; but it was a mistake for three of us to go up and stand there so long. For the black horses can see, and the Riders can use men and other creatures as spies, as we found at Bree. They themselves do not see the world of light as we do, but our shapes cast shadows in their minds, which only the noon sun destroys; and in the dark they perceive many signs and forms that are hidden from us: then they are most to be feared. And at all times they smell the blood of living things, desiring and hating it.
"So they are like orcs are for us." Thranduil said darkly which made the elflings look up at him.
"What do you mean ada?" Legolas asked his father.
"The orcs were all once elves whom were captured by the first Dark Lord the Vala Morgoth who had changed and twisted them with torture and for this are we hated by them much more cruelly then they hate any other living being for we represent to them what was taken from them." Galadriel said in a sad tone as the children shuddered at this dark knowledge most of them realising that till now just how sheltered they had lived compared to others.
Senses, too, there are other than sight or smell. We can feel their presence – it troubled our hearts, as soon as we came here, and before we saw them; they feel ours more keenly. Also,' he added, and his voice sank to a whisper, 'the Ring draws them.'
'Is there no escape then?' said Frodo, looking round wildly. 'If I move I shall be seen and hunted! If I stay, I shall draw them to me!'
Strider laid his hand on his shoulder. 'There is still hope,' he said. 'You are not alone. Let us take this wood that is set ready for the fire as a sign. There is little shelter or defence here, but fire shall serve for both. Sauron can put fire to his evil uses, as he can all things, but these Riders do not love it, and fear those who wield it. Fire is our friend in the wilderness.'
'Maybe,' muttered Sam. 'It is also as good a way of saying "here we are" as I can think of, bar shouting.'
"As is the ring." Haldir pointed out.
Down in the lowest and most sheltered corner of the dell they lit a fire, and prepared a meal. The shades of evening began to fall, and it grew cold. They were suddenly aware of great hunger, for they had not eaten anything since breakfast; but they dared not make more than a frugal supper. The lands ahead were empty of all save birds and beasts, unfriendly places deserted by all the races of the world. Rangers passed at times beyond the hills, but they were few and did not stay. Other wanderers were rare, and of evil sort: trolls might stray down at times out of the northern valleys of the Misty Mountains.
"We will have to make patrols to take care of those." Erestor said while Celeborn shared a look with his wife, they will also need to make steps so that those trolls don't wander into they territory on they hunt for food.
Only on the Road would travellers be found, most often dwarves, hurrying along on business of their own, and with no help and few words to spare for strangers.
'I don't see how our food can be made to last,' said Frodo. 'We have been careful enough in the last few days, and this supper is no feast; but we have used more than we ought, if we have two weeks still to go, and perhaps more.'
'There is food in the wild,' said Strider; 'berry, root, and herb; and I have some skill as a hunter at need. You need not be afraid of starving before winter comes. But gathering and catching food is long and weary work, and we need haste. So tighten your belts, and think with hope of the tables of Elrond's house!'
"I fear that it would be better to just let them into the storage rooms to eat when they want." Celebrian said as she looked over at Erestor for help.
"The cooks would certainly feel overworked even if we need much less sleep then them." the advisor answered.
The cold increased as darkness came on. Peering out from the edge of the dell they could see nothing but a grey land now vanishing quickly into shadow. The sky above had cleared again and was slowly filled with twinkling stars. Frodo and his companions huddled round the fire, wrapped in every garment and blanket they possessed; but Strider was content with a single cloak, and sat a little apart, drawing thoughtfully at his pipe.
As night fell and the light of the fire began to shine out brightly he began to tell them tales to keep their minds from fear. He knew many histories and legends of long ago, of Elves and Men and the good and evil deeds of the Elder Days. They wondered how old he was, and where he had learned all this lore.
'Tell us of Gil-galad,' said Merry suddenly, when he paused at the end of a story of the Elf-Kingdoms. 'Do you know any more of that old lay that you spoke of?'
"And here goes the walk down the memory lane." Thranduil whispered to Celeborn who placed a hand on his arm.
"I'm sure we won't hear about your father's passing." Celeborn said in a reassuring tone, he was the one knowing the best how torn the other elf had been as he watched his father being slain. He had been the only one whom the young unwilling king had, even thought reluctantly, let near and to allow to try keeping his heart from breaking thorough the grief.
'I do indeed,' answered Strider. 'So also does Frodo, for it concerns us closely.' Merry and Pippin looked at Frodo, who was staring into the fire.
'I know only the little that Gandalf has told me,' said Frodo slowly. 'Gil-galad was the last of the great Elf-kings of Middleearth. Gil galad is Starlight in their tongue. With Elendil, the Elf-friend, he went to the land of–––'
"But…" Orophin was about to ask as he looked over to Thranduil who only shook his head.
"He means that Gil-Galad was the last of the High-Kings whom had come from Valinor, my adar may have been also born there, but he was not a king only later as he come with some of his men from Doriath to Green Wood was he made king by the silvan elves living there." he explained to the young elfling who nodded now finally understanding the difference.
'No!' said Strider interrupting, 'I do not think that tale should be told now with the servants of the Enemy at hand. If we win through to the house of Elrond, you may hear it there, told in full.'
'Then tell us some other tale of the old days,' begged Sam; 'a tale about the Elves before the fading time. I would dearly like to hear more about Elves; the dark seems to press round so close.'
Elrohir notices the young minstrel's unsure gaze again and leaned closer to see what had halted him again, a soft gasp escaped his lips as he read the next passage before looking at the minstrel.
"Lindir, mellonen, please continue." he said softly not caring about the others questioning gazes, they would understand soon.
'I will tell you the tale of Tinúviel,'
Everyone sat suddenly straighter in they seets for they all knew the tale and how much it was bound to the House of Elrond, those of her blood bowing they heads slightly in memory of her.
said Strider, 'in brief – for it is a long tale of which the end is not known; and there are none
now, except Elrond, that remember it aright as it was told of old. It is a fair tale, though it is sad, as are all the tales of Middleearth, and yet it may lift up your hearts.' He was silent for some time, and then he began not to speak but to chant softly:
The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering.
Tinúviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
And in her raiment glimmering.
There Beren came from mountains cold,
And lost he wandered under leaves,
And where the Elven-river rolled
He walked alone and sorrowing.
He peered between the hemlock-leaves
And saw in wander flowers of gold
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,
And her hair like shadow following.
Enchantment healed his weary feet
That over hills were doomed to roam;
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.
Through woven woods in Elvenhome
She tightly fled on dancing feet,
And left him lonely still to roam
In the silent forest listening.
He heard there oft the flying sound
Of feet as light as linden-leaves,
Or music welling underground,
In hidden hollows quavering.
Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,
And one by one with sighing sound
Whispering fell the beechen leaves
In the wintry woodland wavering.
He sought her ever, wandering far
Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,
By light of moon and ray of star
In frosty heavens shivering.
Her mantle glinted in the moon,
As on a hill-top high and far
She danced, and at her feet was strewn
A mist of silver quivering.
When winter passed, she came again,
And her song released the sudden spring,
Like rising lark, and falling rain,
And melting water bubbling.
He saw the elven-flowers spring
About her feet, and healed again
He longed by her to dance and sing
Upon the grass untroubling.
Again she fled, but swift he came.
Tinúviel! Tinúviel!
He called her by her elvish name;
And there she halted listening.
One moment stood she, and a spell
His voice laid on her: Beren came,
And doom fell on Tinúviel
That in his arms lay glistening.
As Beren looked into her eyes
Within the shadows of her hair,
The trembling starlight of the skies
He saw there mirrored shimmering.
Tinúviel the elven-fair,
Immortal maiden elven-wise,
About him cast her shadowy hair
And arms like silver glimmering.
Long was the way that fate them bore,
O'er stony mountains cold and grey,
Through halls of iron and darkling door,
And woods of nightshade morrowless.
The Sundering Seas between them lay,
And yet at last they met once more,
And long ago they passed away
In the forest singing sorrowless.
There was no sound of clapping hands or cheering voices for the song of the bittersweet tale had gripped they hearts and filled it with joy for the deep love and sorrow for the end befalling the lovers. They spent time in silence not even noting when they three missing companions returned in they midst.
"Really, they stayed all night out and trained, I would have thought better from those three to keep an eye on they students." Elrond complained after spending a good time in tending the same injuries by different patients.
"Tell me about it…what is wrong here?" Glorfindel asked suddenly as he noted the looks of the others.
"Sit down and you will understand, you will be also filled in after the chapter of the things you have missed." Galadriel said as she gazed up at the confused trio who did what she had told them, but reluctantly for they wanted to know what was wrong.
Strider sighed and paused before he spoke again. 'That is a song,' he said, 'in the mode that is called ann-thennath among the Elves, but is hard to render in our Common Speech, and this is but a rough echo of it. It tells of the meeting of Beren son of Barahir and Lúthien Tinúviel.
And this was all explaination they had needed as to why everyone was acting so strange.
Beren was a mortal man, but Lúthien was the daughter of Thingol, a King of Elves upon Middle-earth when the world was young; and she was the fairest maiden that has ever been among all the children of this world. As the stars above the mists of the Northern lands was her loveliness, and in her face was a shining light. In those days the Great Enemy, of whom Sauron of Mordor was but a servant, dwelt in Angband in the North, and the Elves of the West coming back to Middle-earth made war upon him to regain the Silmarils
At this Elrond growled while Celborn stared darkly at the grund not even caring that Thranduil and his wife were glaring at each other and Glorfindel shuddered, those were bloody thimes and those whom had cursed the noldor race and made them to exiles.
which he had stolen; and the fathers of Men aided the Elves. But the Enemy was victorious and Barahir was slain, and Beren escaping through great peril came over the Mountains of Terror into the hidden Kingdom of Thingol in the forest of Neldoreth. There he beheld Lúthien singing and dancing in a glade beside the enchanted river Esgalduin; and he named her Tinúviel, that is Nightingale in the language of old. Many sorrows befell them afterwards, and they were parted long. Tinúviel rescued Beren from the dungeons of Sauron, and together they passed through great dangers, and cast down even the Great Enemy from his throne, and took from his iron crown one of the three Silmarils, brightest of all jewels, to be the bride-price of Lúthien to Thingol her father. Yet at the last Beren was slain by the Wolf that came from the gates of Angband, and he died in the arms of Tinúviel. But she chose mortality, and to die from the world, so that she might follow him; and it is sung that they met again beyond the Sundering Seas, and after a brief time walking alive once more in the green woods, together they passed, long ago, beyond the confines of this world. So it is that Lúthien Tinúviel alone of the Elf-kindred has died indeed and left the world, and they have lost her whom they most loved. But from her the lineage of the Elf-lords of old descended among Men. There live still those of whom Lúthien was the foremother, and it is said that her line shall never fail. Elrond of Rivendell is of that Kin. For of Beren and Lúthien was born Dior Thingol's heir; and of him Elwing the White whom Eärendil wedded, he that sailed his ship out of the mists of the world into the seas of heaven with the Silmaril upon his brow. And of Eärendil came the Kings of Númenor, that is Westernesse.'
"Our line is filled with many hardship and sorrows." Elrond said softly as he looked at his three children whom he had burdened with his blood.
As Strider was speaking they watched his strange eager face, dimly lit in the red glow of the wood-fire. His eyes shone, and his voice was rich and deep. Above him was a black starry sky. Suddenly a pale light appeared over the crown of Weathertop behind him. The waxing moon was climbing slowly above the hill that overshadowed them, and the stars above the hill-top faded.
The story ended. The hobbits moved and stretched. 'Look!' said Merry. 'The Moon is rising: it must be getting late.'
The others looked up. Even as they did so, they saw on the top of the hill something small and dark against the glimmer of the moonrise. It was perhaps only a large stone or jutting rock shown up by the pale light.
"I have an ungood feeling about this." Rumil said as the others nodded.
Sam and Merry got up and walked away from the fire. Frodo and Pippin remained seated in silence. Strider was watching the moonlight on the hill intently. All seemed quiet and still, but Frodo felt a cold dread creeping over his heart, now that Strider was no longer speaking. He huddled closer to the fire. At that moment Sam came running back from the edge of the dell.
"Aiye, trouble is near."
'I don't know what it is,' he said, 'but I suddenly felt afraid. I durstn't go outside this dell for any money; I felt that something was creeping up the slope.'
'Did you see anything?' asked Frodo, springing to his feet.
'No, sir. I saw nothing, but I didn't stop to look.'
'I saw something,' said Merry; 'or I thought I did – away westwards where the moonlight was falling on the flats beyond the shadow of the hill-tops, I thought there were two or three black shapes. They seemed to be moving this way.'
'Keep close to the fire, with your faces outward!' cried Strider. 'Get some of the longer sticks ready in your hands!'
The tension in the garnden was raising again.
For a breathless time they sat there, silent and alert, with their backs turned to the wood-fire, each gazing into the shadows that encircled them. Nothing happened. There was no sound or movement in the night. Frodo stirred, feeling that he must break the silence: he longed to shout out aloud.
'Hush!' whispered Strider. 'What's that?' gasped Pippin at the same moment.
Over the lip of the little dell, on the side away from the hill, they felt, rather than saw, a shadow rise, one shadow or more than one. They strained their eyes, and the shadows seemed to grow. Soon there could be no doubt: three or four tall black figures were standing there on the slope, looking down on them. So black were they that they seemed like black holes in the deep shade behind them. Frodo thought that he heard a faint hiss as of venomous breath and felt a thin piercing chill. Then the shapes slowly advanced.
"They need to try keeping it together." Glorfindel said.
"To late for that." was Lindir's answer, even thought he was frightened, worried and saddened by most things he had heard and now read in this book was he starting to feel more confident and comfortable in the group.
Terror overcame Pippin and Merry, and they threw themselves flat on the ground. Sam shrank to Frodo's side. Frodo was hardly less terrified than his companions; he was quaking as if he was bitter cold, but his terror was swallowed up in a sudden temptation to put on the Ring. The desire to do this laid hold of him, and he could think of nothing else. He did not forget the Barrow, nor the message of Gandalf; but something seemed to be compelling him to disregard all warnings, and he longed to yield. Not with the hope of escape, or of doing anything, either good or bad: he simply felt that he must take the Ring and put it on his finger. He could not speak. He felt Sam looking at him, as if he knew that his master was in some great trouble, but he could not turn towards him. He shut his eyes and struggled for a while; but resistance became unbearable, and at last he slowly drew out the chain, and slipped the Ring on the forefinger of his left hand.
"That was a great mistake." Erestor said gravely and hopefully will he not pay the highest price for the mistake.
"I can clearly see that this will give me some nightmares, now that is for sure." everyone was now looking worriedly at Lindir.
Immediately, though everything else remained as before, dim and dark, the shapes became terribly clear. He was able to see beneath their black wrappings.
"Ugh… I never wished knowing what was under those things…" Glorfindel said with a shudder, the elflings would not be the only ones with nightmares tonight now that was for sure.
There were five tall figures: two standing on the lip of the dell, three advancing. In their white faces burned keen and merciless eyes; under their mantles were long grey robes; upon their grey hairs were helms of silver; in their haggard hands were swords of steel. Their eyes fell on him and pierced him, as they rushed towards him.
There were many slightly green faces at the unwanted knowledge which would be with them till they can banish the information into the back of they minds.
Desperate, he drew his own sword, and it seemed to him that it flickered red, as if it was a firebrand. Two of the figures halted. The third was taller than the others: his hair was long and gleaming and on his helm was a crown.
"So the Witch-King of Angmar himself had also come." Angränor said in a humourless tone as Glorfindel's eyes gleamed with anger.
In one hand he held a long sword, and in the other a knife; both the knife and the hand that held it glowed with a pale light. He sprang forward and bore down on Frodo.
"Uh…not the best time for that hymn, but if it helps you…" Lindir said with a raised eyebrow.
At that moment Frodo threw himself forward on the ground, and he heard himself crying aloud: O Elbereth! Gilthoniel! At the same time he struck at the feet of his enemy.
Glorfindel smirked gleefully at hearing this, it served that Wraith right what he got.
A shrill cry rang out in the night; and he felt a pain like a dart of poisoned ice pierce his left shoulder.
Everyone knew immediately that something was really wrong when suddenly both Elrond and Miriel jumped up from they seats, they faces ashen like those of the other adults.
"They need to get him as fast to me as it is possible and even then we can only pray to the Valar that it is not to late." Elrond said in a worried tone, things just got truly dark.
"Lindir continue please with the book." Celebrian said in a tight tone as she fought back her tears.
Even as he swooned he caught, as through a swirling mist, a glimpse of Strider leaping out of the darkness with a flaming brand of wood in either hand. With a last effort Frodo, dropping his sword, slipped the Ring from his finger and closed his right hand tight upon it.
"This was the end of the chapter." Lindir said as he went and handed the book to Lord Celeborn while the others started to tell Elrond, Glorfindel and Miriel what they had missed, if for nothing more then to keep they minds busy from the thought of what great peril had befallen Frodo beside the One Ring.
To be continued…