elderberrywine (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
elderberrywine) wrote2009-07-14 09:27 pm
elderberrywine) wrote2009-07-14 09:27 pm
And the rest. . . .
Second half of Chapter Three
It was the sharp rap on the door the brought both of us to our senses, the next morning, for Frodo had not left at dawn’s first light as he had planned.
“In a moment, in a moment,” I called out rather sharply, for my dreams had been extraordinarily pleasant, but Frodo was already scrambling out of bed and donning his ragged garments once again.
The sound of footsteps faded down the hallway, but Frodo shook his head ruefully, as I silently implored him back to bed again, and murmured, “I meant to leave far earlier than this, Sam, dear. I’m quite sure I do not know what to do about this odd effect you have on me, but all logic seems to escape me in your presence.” Bending over me, he kissed me tenderly, and then made his way over the boxes and other paraphernalia to the window. “I’ll be back to the inn with rest of the like-minded riverhobbits in a few hours, Sam. In the meanwhile, talk to your patients today, and determine how many will stand with us. Today is the day I mean to bring this to a head. Take care in all that is to come, Sam, my love, and I will do the same.” Then he was gone, in the white misty morning, and I was alone.
I brought the dishes back to the kitchen, feeling rather guilty about my sharp tongue, and was astounded to find, already sitting in the large common room, a good many of my patients from the day before awaiting the various medicines and poultices that I had spent the previous evening concocting. “My, my,” I muttered in some consternation, as the proprietor grinned, and handed me a hot mug of tea.
“Expect as you’ll be that busy this morning,” he chuckled. “I’ll have a bit of breakfast sent in, and my lad is at your disposal. I must say, this is as fair as an amount of business as I’ve had in many a day, and no mistake. But there just might be another reason for them all showing up besides their aches and pains.”
As indeed there was. I could hear the conversations about me, as I met again with each ailing hobbit in turn, and the return of the wildhobbits, as they called them, in the hills was the chief topic of conversation. Baggins had been quite right about the timing, I realized, for they definitely had the look of a group of hobbits who had been pushed to the brink by the marauding band led by Nethercleft. As I listened, and asked a question or two as I took care of my patients, and nibbled my breakfast as best I could, a better picture of the whole situation began to fall into place.
Apparently, Nethercleft’s hobbits had used the caves in the hills not far from Halfthistle for quite a few years now. This portion of the Shire had unusually porous rock, and the hills to the east and south were known to have quite a number of large caves. They were a desperate looking lot, and the folk of the village made sure they kept their distance, but otherwise the two groups had uneasily coexisted, until this past summer. Traffic on the river had then taken a sharp upturn, and there seemed to be cargo coming from the river to the caves on a more regular basis than before. Any curiosity on the part of the villagers had been strongly discouraged, and there were even reports of one or two of the more curious of the townsfolk having disappeared altogether. There had been talk of sending a delegation of inquiry to the caves but, in the end, fear won out, and none went.
This autumn, however, matters had become even more strained, since the interlopers were becoming not at all loathe to descend upon the local farmers and make off with what provisions they saw fit to take, with only a pittance for payment, and often not even that. The conclusion was clear. Something must be done. But it was obvious to me that until they had some sort of leader, nothing would.
I kept them engaged in conversation, however, after I finished my attentions, and it did not hurt the situation at all that it was a chilly and mizzling day out of doors, conducive to lingering about where there was a warm fire and plenty of company. And it was not more than an hour before that company was increased by the arrival of Bobbin and his party. Farmer Browning was clearly a hobbit of some standing in the community of Halfthistle, and his position on the matter was sought immediately. Before too long, the consensus was clear. The ruffians must be flushed from the caves and the community be rid of them for good. The question of exactly how was, unfortunately still fairly vague, but that situation was to change quite soon.
&&&&&
It was a very different Baggins who abruptly entered the inn, with a score of grizzled river hobbits behind him, than the old and bent hobbit he had presented himself to be on the shores of the Brandywine the previous day. No, now he held himself tall and proud, and his eyes blazed from his begrimed face in a manner that was wondrous to see. There was no doubt in the heart of every hobbit present that a leader had unexpectedly appeared before them. A startled hush fell across the room as he began to speak, and I could no more have helped the pride that swelled my heart than stop my very breath.
“There is a villain in your midst, the like of which the Shire has rarely seen,” he jumped atop a sturdy barrel near the door so that all could see who spoke. “You all know that it is Nethercleft of whom I speak, and you also all know that he and his hobbits have been the scourge of this neighborhood for many a year now. But what you all do not know is the full extent of his corruption. For the past several years now, he has been responsible for a systematic plunder of goods that travel the Brandywine. And most specifically, the Longbottom leaf harvest, renowned throughout the Shire and beyond as the most supreme variety of pipeweed. These thieves have taken the entire crop, shipment after shipment, from the Buckland fields this year.”
“Is that what they’ve been a-draggin’ up in those caves of theirs?” Farmer Browning asked incredulously. “How would you know that, and who are you?”
“As for the first, because my companions,” and here he motioned to the hobbits waiting silently behind him, “and I helped his hobbits bring it up from the river. And as for the second? Well, there is something else you folk need know. Nethercleft has also kidnapped the young heir of Brandy Hall as well, and holds him for ransom in the caves even now.”
There was a sudden collective gasp of horror at this, for Halfthistle was part of Buckland, and Saradoc Brandybuck and his young son were held in high regard by all and sundry. But all were not yet convinced. “How can we be certain if any of this is a bit true?” growled a grizzled hobbit, thumping his half-pint on the table. “I still not be knowin’ who you are, and that pack you brought wi’ya are a fearsome lookin’ lot.”
“I do not answer for their looks,” Baggins replied coolly, as a murmur of grumbled agreement swept the room, “but I can, in point of fact, answer for their bravery. And as for myself, I am Meriadoc Brandybuck’s cousin, and if anyone else has reason to doubt my sincerity, I will take the matter up with them personally.”
“Here, Fred, you used to work at Brandy Hall,” the grizzled hobbit was still not reassured, and nudged the even older hobbit at his side. “Is this young poppycock all he says he is?”
Fred rose on rather wobbling knees and stumped over to where Baggins stood, peering at him closely through rheumy eyes as the rest of the hobbits watched, awaiting his judgment. “Why, bless the stars,” Fred stumbled back in surprise as he finally got a good look at Baggins’ face. “There ain’t any mistakin’ those eyes, no ways! Frodo Baggins, as I live and breathe! We surely did miss you when you left for Hobbiton.”
“Good of you to remember, Fred, and it is certainly fine to see you again, likewise,” Baggins assured him, with a wry smile, and a warm clasp of his shoulder. “I infiltrated his company at Stock,” he continued, turning back to the stunned audience, who was still trying to assimilate that last bit of news. “The hobbits I have brought here with me did not have a choice. They are dock workers from Stock, the last village Nethercleft invaded, and were forcibly conscripted to join his band. We managed to escape under the cover of night, but they are willing to join in combat with you, for they know that their village, and their dear ones still there, will have no peace or safety until Nethercleft is forever gone from these hills.”
“What Baggins says is true,” came the rough voice of one of the riverhobbits standing behind him. “This’d be Jem Reedborn as who’s talkin’. We’re ready to take care of what needs t’be done. Will ye stand w’us?”
I could see the folk of Halfthistle turn to each other with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, but still a trace of mistrust as well. That did it for me. I jumped to my feet and nervously cleared my throat, causing those about me to turn and stare at me. Public speaking has never been my suit, and for a dreadful moment, my mind was blank, but then I locked eyes with Baggins and the words came to me. “I have come here as well to assist you in this undertaking. I truly am a healer, but my name is Samwise Gamgee, and I am proud to call myself a dear friend of Frodo Baggins. I would follow wherever he would lead, and if he says the matter is to be done, then it will be, and there is no more question about it. We have come to rid you of Nethercleft and rescue the heir of Buckland. Who will follow?”
And in the rising murmur of voices, one rang out clear and true. “I will, at that!” and we saw Bobbin’s eager and determined face beaming from the back of the room. “I ain’t afraid o’that villain!”
Public opinion, nearly immediately, fell behind that of Bobbin, and we had our troops.
&&&&&
I found myself, not long after, staring into what appeared to be a trough at the side of a field, overgrown with brush. “And what did you call this again, Bobbin?” I asked dubiously of my companion, who was watching along with myself and the majority of the riverhobbits as the farmer’s lad darted down into the brush and mysteriously disappeared.
“Geordie says as it’s called a holloway,” Bobbin indicated his disappeared friend as the authority on the matter. ‘Tis an old road, and none use it any more, but it’s still there all the same.”
Geordie’s head poked out again, a stray leave or two decorating his short nose, which he blew impatiently off. “Come along, then, ‘tis plenty o’room for the lot of us. They’ll never be thinkin’ o’this holloway, no ways.”
That was a compelling argument, so I followed the lad in and found myself in a curious green underworld. I saw at once that this had once been a road of sorts, but seasons of rainfall, and the porous nature of the local stone, had contrived to sink the route well below the fields that had served as shoulders to the road. It had been abandoned, therefore, as a thoroughfare, and the brush and trees along the sides had grown undisturbed until they grew high enough to join over the top, creating a green verdant tunnel in the midst of everyday fields of hops and oats. Obviously it was a pathway that was in use, if not by hobbits, for I could hear rustling in the thick brush, and the sound of small scurrying animals.
Geordie shrugged when I mentioned this to him. “Naught but wee creatures, Mister Samwise, coneys and mice and birds and the like. They’ll get out of our way fast enough. I’ve found a plump coney for dinner down here many a time, but with so many others here, no way will I’ll be a-sneakin’ up on one today. No matter, we’ve bigger game ahead.”
“And much more dangerous, too,” I added, watching Bobbin and Geordie as they made their way through the growth at the forefront of our line. “I want the two of you lads falling behind us, once we are there. After all, we may have need of messengers to the rest of our company, and you two lads would be just the pair to call on.”
The pair of them, who had turned glum faces around at my first comment, brightened up considerably at the second thought, and went back to forging our path with renewed determination.
Indeed, I realized, marveling as we continued to scramble along at how much steeper the sides of the holloway were becoming, and how much warmer it was down here in the eerie green light, which was exactly what we might have need of, depending where this strange road left us. Baggins, Farmer Browning, Jem as leader of the riverhobbits, and myself had put our heads together before we left the inn, and had devised a plan. Nethercleft would not be surprised, we felt, to see a group of townsfolk from Halfthistle make an attempt to storm his cave fortress. Farmer Browning had taken on the lead of that group, and Baggins had gone with them to show the way, and to make the attempt to free Brandybuck, if at all possible. But what he would not be expecting is a second group to attack, especially the riverhobbits who had managed to escape under cover of darkness, and whom he would expect to be on their way back to their homes at Stock and beyond. It was essential, then, that we arrive in the greatest of secrecy, and wait until we heard sound of the first group attacking before we did so as well. And a pair or messengers would most likely be just what we might need.
The holloway took a few unexpected turns, constantly appearing to be coming to an end to the uninitiated eye, and there was a fork or two as well, so we were grateful indeed for Geordie’s expert direction. The light in the holloway was beginning to glint more golden, a sign that the sun was beginning to set high overhead, when he stopped and indicated a fork that seemed to rise sharply upward. “That way leads out to the back of the hill, behind the caves,” he whispered, turning back to Bobbin and myself.
“What is the land like thereabouts?” I asked with some apprehension. “Is it fields there too?”
“Nay, ‘tis the woods. Nobody lives in these parts, no ways. They say ‘tis the end of the Shire, here.”
“Shire or no, it sounds ideal for our purposes,” I replied with relief, and immediately consulted with Jem Reedborn, who had come up to join us. We agreed that he and I, along with the two lads, should emerge from our cover, initially, and determine how we were situated. Then Geordie would be sent on to find his father, to let the rest of our companions know that we were ready and waiting, and Bobbin would go with him, to be sent back to us only if needs be. Only when Nethercleft and his hobbits were fully engaged with the others would we join in the fray, to maintain our advantage of surprise. The four of us, therefore, poked our heads cautiously from the exit of the holloway, and glanced around.
Our small guide had been correct regarding our location. The holloway had ended because we were now on the higher hills, at the foot of a dark and dank forest. Pine, cedar, and fir grew thickly ahead of us, and the ground, which was soggy from the recent rain, was abundantly covered with moss and ferns. All was silent, in the fading light, save the occasional heavy flap of wings overhead as unseen large birds returned to their nests for the night, in the high tops of the trees.
I gave an involuntary shudder as I looked about. It was not the place I would have chosen to spend a chilly night. Jem, standing at my side, gave an affirming nod. “We’d not be gettin’ much of a fire goin’ this night, no ways,” he agreed. “That way we took was givin’ me the shivers, I don’t mind mentioning, but leastways it was more homey than this.”
“Well, we shouldn’t be here long,” I murmured, endeavoring to make my voice matter-of-fact. “Very well, then, captain,” I addressed the young lad at my side with an attempt at a light-hearted manner. “Take us near the caves, but not too near, mind you. And then once we are situated, it’s off with you to your father and Mister Baggins, and let them know that we are ready when they are.”
He nodded, with a struggle between excitement and apprehension clearly apparent on his dirt-smudged face, and Jem disappeared back down the holloway to motion his hobbits to follow, as stealthily as possible. And then we were off, picking our way carefully down the rocky slope away from the woods, careful of the damp moss-covered stones that made for treacherous footing, and as for myself, desperately hoping that the light would hold out until we reached our destination, for indeed this was not a path I would care to follow in the dark.
Our luck held, however, for just about the time I was truly needing to strain my sight to distinguish bush from boulder, Geordie stopped in front of me and held up a warning hand. “We’re near enough, to be sure,” he whispered, and I suddenly realized what he meant. The steady murmuring sound that I had been assuming to be merely the noise of a nearby tributary of the Brandywine was also covering the muttering and babble of what must have been a fairly large number of hobbits. I began to pick out individual voices, as I listen carefully, and quickly determined that they had no premonition of what was to occur. Most of the conversation was in regard to the preparation of the evening meal, together with the occasional burst of laughter and rude joke. “Very well,” I whispered to both of the lads, when we had found places in the shadow of a large rocky ledge directly behind the caves. From here I could see the narrow path that led to the ledge of the rocky wall high above the river, where the openings of three large caves could be seen, each lit by firelight from within, and a goodly crowd of hobbits milling in and out of each of them. “Your father and the rest of our company should be at the foot of the river, just past the caves. We will be awaiting their attack. Once all Nethercleft’s followers are engaged with them, we will make our own attack. Both of you lads, though, stay out of the fray as best you can. We shall need you if we must send word to each other, and there is naught to be gained by trying to take on these villains yourselves.”
“Don’t you be frettin’ on our account,” Bobbin assured me cheerfully, with a quick squeeze of my arm. “We’ll be there in no time, I promise you!”
I began to add another caution, for it troubled me to have such young lads involved in this matter, but it was too late. In a moment, their small shapes could barely be seen scampering through the rocks in the dusk, and quite soon, they were gone.
&&&&&
I’ll never forget the events of that night, as close to battle as I ever wish to be. Not long after we were all in place, a fearsome noise broke out on the far side of the camp, and I could see the townsfolk storming the bandits’ stronghold, with Farmer Browning and Baggins in the lead. There were only few moments of confusion among Nethercleft’s company, and then they quickly engaged the hobbits from Halfthistle in battle, clearly having been expecting this attack.
My heart sank as I saw both Nethercleft and a burly large hobbit, obviously one of his chief lieutenants, make a concerted attack on Baggins. They had large knives, gleaming in the firelight, whilst his weapon was only a stout staff. That was all it took, and I suspect that we did not wait nearly as long as we should have, but there was no holding back for me any longer. With a great cry that seemed to come from someone else, I snatched up my own cudgel, with which I had armed myself, and bounded down the gravelly ledge that led to the other side of the caves, heedless of my own safety and indeed, anything else but the sight of Baggins holding off two formidable opponents at once. Fortunately, after a moment’s surprise, Jem and his companions were at my heels, yelling deafeningly as well.
Most of Nethercleft’s pack never saw or heard us coming, in the fray, but a few towards the rear nervously turned about at our approach. But before they could alert their comrades, we had joined in the battle as well, and I heedlessly hit about me in a perfect frenzy until I finally made my way to where Baggins fought. With a hearty whack, I disposed of Nethercleft’s assistant, and he fell to the ground unconscious. Baggins gave me a brief thankful smile, and then glanced past me as Nethercleft, suddenly realizing that a new group had entered into the battle, left us with a snarl, and ran up the stony slope to give commands to his subordinates to meet the new threat.
“Good of you to drop in,” Baggins breathed, catching my shoulder in a tight grip. “Bit of a tight spot there. But have a look to Meriadoc, would you?” He gestured to just inside the mouth of one of the caves, where I could see Brandybuck bound to a post. “The perfect time to get him out of this mess would be now, in all this confusion. Have Bobbin take him to the holloway and await us there. He should be safe enough there for the time being.”
I nodded, and briefly gripping his hand in mine, murmured, “Watch yourself, me dear,” and went to do his bidding. As I made my way to Brandybuck though, through the thick of the skirmish and fending off stray blows as best I could, I happened to notice that he had a curious expression on his face. It wasn’t fear, or anger, or anything I would have expected, but rather akin to wary anticipation. As he noticed me approach, he gave me a short nod and frown, as if warning me off. And as I stood there for a moment, undecided, his expression abruptly changed to one of alarm and he let off with a piercing whistle.
“Ho, there, Nethercleft!” he yelled, to my astonishment. “Are these lads having the best of you?”
When I heard Nethercleft’s answering roar of fury, I realized, with a start, that he had been just behind me. Instinctively, I ducked down, and just in time, as a knife whistled through the air where my head had been. I stumbled a bit, having been thrown off by the sudden realization of what might have been my fate, but as I gained my footing, I glanced back up to where Brandybuck was tied, as an enraged Nethercleft thundered past me to his helpless captive.
But to my astonishment, Nethercleft’s hostage grunted something to the tall impassive guard at his side, and with a sudden flick aside of the ropes that had appeared to bind him, both Brandybuck and his guard charged forward to meet the fearsome chief. He had a second knife, gleaming in the firelight by now with blood, and they did not, but it seemed to make little difference to the pair of assailants. They had nothing but their bare hands with which to defend themselves, at least until I heard Baggins’ voice from behind me. “Merry!” he yelled out, and his staff sailed past me and was expertly intercepted by Brandybuck’s companion, who immediately handed it over to the younger hobbit.
“Good of you, Frodo,” grunted the recipient, never glancing away from his opponent, and with the addition of the weapon, quickly started making headway against him.
“That does leave me rather short,” Baggins calmly mentioned, as he stood by my side, catching his breath, “so I’ll just rely on you for a bit.”
“As long as you like, my dear.” I must confess that my heart swelled a bit with pride, as I held off some of the thieves, who were trying to come to the aid of their chief.
But as soon as two of the villains attempted to attack me at once, he stepped forward, and with a swift blow, sent one tumbling senseless to our feet, as the one I had walloped with my cudgel staggered off with little appetite for more. “Very nice,” I heard his murmur, but before I could respond, I saw Brandybuck had managed to evade Nethercleft’s savage knife thrust and his staff came down on Nethercleft’s head with a resounding thunk. Nethercleft staggered forward, knife still raised even though blood was streaming down his face, but the tall hobbit at Brandybuck’s side gave a fierce kick at Nethercleft’s feet at the very same instant Baggins pushed past me and gave the brigands’ chief a hearty shove forward. Nethercleft landed face first on the gravel, and did not move.
The rest of his hobbits, once they saw their leader fall, quickly decided that this engagement was over, and nearly instantly melted into the night, and were never seen again in this part of the Shire, to the best of my knowledge. Farmer Browning and the two lads were soon at my side, as was Jem, and we all stared down at the unconscious hobbit who had been the source of so much grief.
“I leave him in your hands, my good Browning,” Baggins murmured at last. “Unless, of course, Merry, your father would care to have a word on the matter.”
“I’ll gladly go along with whatever the Master of Buckland might suggest,” Browning said grimly, “but it don’t matter much to me. He ain’t goin’ anywhere he likes, for a very long time.”
“Excellent,” Baggins nodded with satisfaction. “Oh, and Merry, you might want to check in the farthest cave. I believe that most of this year’s crop of Longbottom has been tucked away in there. And Reedborn here, and his hobbits, would be glad to help you get it to wherever it needs to go. I will vouch for them entirely. And Gamgee, you might want to look to my shoulder, if you wouldn’t mind. . . ” It wasn’t until he turned and slowly began to sink to the ground, that I saw that his entire side was covered in blood.
&&&&&&
Between Brandybuck and myself, we managed to get Baggins back to the inn, leaving Reedborn and Browning to tackle the confinement of Nethercleft. Bobbin accompanied us, along with his cousin, with whom he had been reunited to their mutual delight. The path was dark and footing uncertain, but the ever resourceful Bobbin had managed to snatch up a lantern from the bandits’ stronghold, and led the way for us. It seemed like far longer than it actually must have been and the quantity of blood, continuing to seep through the strips of my shirt which I had torn off and bound around him before we left, had my heart in my throat the entire way back. Brandybuck said nothing, but his face was grim, and I knew that he was trying his best to jostle his unconscious cousin as little as possible.
It was fairly close to midnight by the time we reached the inn, and were able to lay him on the small cot in the back room that had been assigned to me the night before. I left Bobbin and his master to explain, in great detail, what had happened on the cliffs’ edge in front of the caves Nethercleft had commandeered for so long. The innkeeper, as well as the straggling group seated about the great room, were properly horrified at the tale, but I had no interest in the account whatsoever, and promptly shut myself in the back with Brandybuck and the tall hobbit who had assisted him in the fray and followed him yet.
“How is he, Sam?” Brandybuck blurted out anxiously, as soon as we gently lay his unconscious form on the rough bed. “Will he be all right?”
I had no mind for idle speculation, however, and immediately set them to assisting me. “Start the fire, Merry,” I ordered peremptorily, “and you. . “ Here I paused, not having the slightest idea who this other hobbit was.
“Tobias,” he supplied quickly, touching his forehead.
“Tobias it is,” I nodded, not making any effort to determine why that name seemed familiar. “Two buckets of water, then, Tobias, as quickly as possible. You’ll find some empty ones over by the door, I believe.”
Rolling Frodo gently to his uninjured side, I cautiously cut away the strips of my shirt with a blunt knife, and examined the wound. It was just under his left shoulder blade, and for a hideous moment, I questioned whether the knife had reached his heart. But my training stood me in good stead, and I realized that it would have bled far more profusely if that had been the case. Fortunately, Tobias had by now arrived with at least one bucket of clean water, and I was able to begin gingerly washing the wound.
What I saw when it was clean, however, was disconcerting. The knife had not gone as deep as I had feared, but the slash was wide, and at a site where it would be difficult for the patient to keep from moving it about as it healed. There was no hope for it, then, and now was the time to treat it, while Baggins was still unconscious. “Fetch me a needle, some strong thread, and wax,” I ordered peremptorily, and paid no mind to who left to do my bidding.
While I waited impatiently, I checked my patient over, forcing myself, to the best of my ability, to treat him in an unemotional manner. I could not allow memories of this same smooth skin as seen by firelight, the way the muscles played underneath, my familiarity with every glint and shadow that golden light cast on it, to distract me from what had to be done.
At last Brandybuck returned with what I required, and I cleaned the needle in the pot of hot water at my side and threaded it, biting the thread off sharply. As I rubbed wax into the thread to allow the stitches to go through more easily, I finally looked up to the other two. “Merry, you must go for the moment,” I told him gently, seeing his shocked expression. “Find some clean cloths that I can use as a bandage once I am through. Don’t fret, my dear lad, I’ve done this before. It will heal faster this way.”
Brandybuck swallowed hard, his face still pale, and reluctantly nodded. Not trusting his voice, he lay a gentle hand on Baggins’ head, and then quickly left the room.
“Very well, then,” I turned to the near stranger at my side.
But he spoke up immediately, with no need of instructions. “No worries, sir. I’ve seen this done a time or two. I’ll hold him fast while you work.”
“Samwise Gamgee, and pleased to meet you likewise,” I corrected him, entirely inconsequentially, and emptied my mind to all else but the task at hand.
I suppose it did not take long, but I have no way of judging. I tried to make the stitches neat, and close enough to bind the wound, without any superfluous ones. Frodo had stirred once or twice, moaning and trying to turn, but Tobias held him firmly, and to my immense relief, he did not wake up during the procedure. At last, it was over, and I bent over him to bite off the excess thread. Wiping the blood off of Frodo’s back once again, I could see that the bleeding had slowly considerably, a very good sign, and with the assistance of a closely wrapped bandage, should stop completely before long.
Brushing the hair off of my forehead with a weary sweep of the back of my hand, I murmured my thanks to my assistant. “Just hold him a moment longer, while I get some unguent with which to cover that. And I expect Merry should be just outside the door by now.”
As indeed he was, still pale, and tightly clutching a veritable stack of clean cloths. “It all went well,” I assured him quickly, as I let him in. “He should be fit as ever and back to complaining about being terminally bored in a week or so. There, there, my lad, it is really quite all right, you know,” I felt compelled to add as the young Brandybuck swept me up in a fierce embrace. “I’ll be giving him a sleeping draught, although I’m not sure if he really needs it, but I suspect we could all use a good night’s sleep.”
Merry straightened up at my response, and awkwardly smiled, brushing a quick hand across his eyes. “Farming Browning has offered me, and Tobias,” he added, nodding to his companion, “his hospitality for the night.”
“Well, there you go,” I replied, with relief. “I’ll see how he looks in the morning and we can decide what to do next from there.”
But, despite my admonition regarding a good night’s sleep, there was none for me. I left the entire bed for Frodo’s comfort, and sitting on the floor next to him, held his hand in both of mine, against my cheek, and gratefully listened to his steady breathing as he slept. Watching the flames in the fireplace, as they gradually diminished and died away, my thoughts kept me company until far into the night.
&&&&&
I was awakened, the next morning, by a gentle hand brushing across my face. Drowsily, I luxuriated in the touch until the events of the day before suddenly came back to me. “Frodo!” I exclaimed, my eyes flying open as I straightened up instantly. “My dearest, how are you?”
“I suspect you know better than I,” came the wry answer, as Frodo rolled gingerly onto his good side. “Got nicked rather badly, back there, did I?”
But there was no time to answer, as there was suddenly a rather timid tapping on the door. Giving a hearty yawn and rising from the floor, a trifle stiffly, it must be confessed, I went over and cracked the door open. The last thing I wanted to see, at this moment, was a delegation come to seek out Frodo’s opinions, thoughts, and general wisdom on any particular aspect of this whole affair, but to my relief, it was only Brandybuck, and I tugged him on in before anyone else could notice that visiting hours had apparently begun.
“Hullo, Merry,” Baggins gave his cousin a warm smile and tried to raise himself into a sitting position.
“Now, then, Frodo, do have a care!” I couldn’t help but fuss, rushing back over to him. “All my careful work will be for naught if you move incautiously, you know.”
“Why, what sort of miracles did you have to perform on me, Sam?” Frodo gave a weak laugh as Brandybuck quickly joined me in helping raise him to a more upright position.
“Sam had to sew you up, Frodo!” Merry was quick to inform him, obviously disappointed that the bandaging was in the way of a good view of my work. “As with a needle and thread! I couldn’t watch,” he continued, with noticeable reluctance. “My stomach was getting quite jumpy at the thought of it. But Tobias stayed and helped, and told me all about it afterwards.”
“Tobias? Indeed that brings up quite an interesting point,” Frodo mused, suddenly alert and ignoring my efforts to remove the strips of cloth about himself.
“Frodo, you can chat with Merry all you like on this matter, if you will but raise your arm just the slightest,” I grumbled, gently catching the limb and lifting it as I interrupted him.
“Oh, very well. I say, was this your shirt, Sam? I thought I recognized that button. Very sorry about that, old thing, I’ll have to make that up to you. Anyway, Merry, the subject was Tobias. So what did he tell you regarding the cause of his absence?”
“What was most likely the truth,” Merry replied slowly, with a troubled look on his face. “That he was originally sent to Brandy Hall by Nethercleft to live with us and collect information on the harvest and shipping. And that he unexpectedly fell in love, and married, and began to feel at home with us. After many years with no word from Nethercleft, he thought that he had been forgotten, and was quite happy to be so. But last spring, he received word that Nethercleft was planning to steal this year’s Longbottom harvest, to send it south on the Brandywine, to the Blue Hills, from whence he and Tobias came. Tobias wasn’t at all willing, but Nethercleft threatened to blackmail him if he did not assist.”
“But when I recognized him, I fouled matters up so much that the villains felt compelled to capture me as well. When they decided to hold me for ransom, he felt that matters had gone too far. Nethercleft unsuspectingly allowed him to be my guard, and he arranged it so that I only appeared to be trussed up, whenever necessary. We were awaiting our moment, last night, when Nethercleft might come close enough to me that we could spring on him together, and thanks to all of you, it finally came.”
“Do you trust him?” Frodo asked sharply, intently studying his cousin’s face, as I gingerly lifted the last of the cloth from his back.
“Yes, I do,” Merry lifted his chin decisively. “We had many hours in which to talk, these past few days, and I sincerely believe that he can be trusted.”
“Very well. Since word must have reached your father by now, he will be frantic with worry over you. You need to return home immediately, along with the rest of the hobbits from Brandy Hall, and Tobias will be just the hobbit to accompany you.”
“And Nethercleft?” Merry asked, before sneaking a look at Frodo’s back, which I had just wiped clean. “Oh, I say, Frodo! That is some fine stitching back here! What a pity you can’t see it.”
“Indeed,” Frodo murmured with a wry grin. “But then I would expect no less,” he added, with a warm smile in my direction. “However, you bring up a critical point, Merry. We must discuss the matter of Nethercleft’s disposition before you go. If you wouldn’t mind gathering all the interested parties together, I believe that we can settle the matter over breakfast. And yes, I will be getting up, Samwise,” he muttered in response to my horrified look. “It will heal just as nicely if I am vertical as it would if I were horizontal. Plus, I am famished. The life of a river hobbit is sadly lacking in the proper number of meals, and I plan to compensate for this past week as quickly as possible.
&&&&&
Nature had, at last, relented, and it was a blue sky above us as we glided up the Brandywine. Bobbin and his cousin, Briarfoot, had rented a lovely flat and stable boat, I was gratified to realize, with which to return to Stock and they were delighted to have Baggins and myself along for company. So I had a comfortable seat against some bales of blankets and the like, and Frodo had, as was proper for the convalescence of the wounded hero, his head in my lap, and I was regaling the company with tales, all entirely true, of Bobbin’s resourcefulness and ingenuity. Briarfoot was shaking his head in wonder, and I could see that he was viewing his young foundling cousin in an entirely new light. Indeed, he was soon confessing that, not having fallen naturally into the role of a parent, the fact that young Bobbin was growing up had completely escaped his notice.
“We just never got to talking together that much, I suppose, hobbit to hobbit like,” he confessed to Baggins and myself, as Bobbin beamed happily, “but the lad is full to the brim of ideas. Looks as if I’ve a partner now.”
They went back to their happy discussion regarding improvements to the Leaping Trout, which could have started with the name, in my private opinion, but my attention soon wandered from that topic. “Frodo, me dear,” I murmured quietly to my companion, “what made you realize that Nethercleft was not just some ordinary bandit?”
“Why, what you mentioned about the language in which he spoke to his subordinates, of course, Sam,” he answered, cocking his head back and smiling up at me. “The words you mentioned had me puzzled indeed, until I remembered a rumor I had heard from Cook about Tobias on one of my trips back to Brandy Hall with Bilbo. From the Blue Hills, she said he came, and I just supposed that was a part of the Shire with which I was unfamiliar, and thought no more about it. It was only after I was thinking that the language had the feel of that of the men from the south that we encountered earlier, and yet was not the same, that I remembered that the Blue Hills indeed lay outside of the Shire. And it would stand to reason that if hobbits had settled there, long ago, that their own language would have become quite different from what is spoken in the Shire. That’s when I realized that Nethercleft had come, or possibly had been sent, to establish a trade route between the Shire and the south. Longbottom was the first commodity to be taken, but I have no doubt that it would not have been the last.”
“But how ridiculous, Frodo,” I couldn’t help but respond, with some disbelief. “Surely if they had purchased it in the normal fashion, it would have been easier for all concerned?”
“One never knows,” Frodo mused, his gaze shifting to the trees on the river bank. “One would think so, certainly, and yet the Shire has always been reluctant to deal with outsiders. Perhaps they felt as if they had no choice. In any case, I still think it was wise to deal with Nethercleft as we did. I do not think that the Shire can consider itself insulated from the world at large any longer, and a modicum of restraint can go a long way.”
I could not help but give a skeptical huff at that judgment. I had had to agree that it was impractical to assume that Nethercleft could have been locked up forever, and yet to allow him to leave seemed, at best, imprudent to me. Yet Frodo, Farmer Browning, Jem Reedborn, and even Meriadoc Brandybuck all had agreed that it was best to send him packing from the Shire with a stern warning that the Shire was not such easy prey as apparently was supposed, and that all in this farthing would be on the alert for any nefarious doings for some time to come, and would not hesitate to quickly band together to drive the villains out, should they choose to return. “After all,” Browning had mentioned sternly, “we’ve had a taste of what we can do when we stick together. And many thanks to Mister Baggins, here, for showing us the way.”
Certainly I had no reservations as to agreeing with the last statement, so I kept the rest of my concerns to myself, but of course that had not deceived Baggins in the slightest.
The rest of the trip proved uneventful, and the rain mercifully held off until we arrived in Stock, where it proceeded to make up for lost time.
Both of the Briarfoot cousins quickly offered us hospitality at the inn, but I shook my head. “No need,” I thanked them anyway. “I believe I have a day or two left on the smial I rented. May as well get full value on the thing.”
&&&&&
I leaned back against the cushions, before the crackling fire, content with my life and everything in it. Baggins lay snuggled against me, blowing smoke rings into the already befogged room. His left shoulder was still bandaged but we had managed, quite inventively I must say, to do whatever we could and still not disturb it. But we were currently blissfully sated, the rain was pounding quite entertainingly against the shutters, the stew was bubbling merrily away and the wine was uncorked, and I was beginning to contemplate how the Widow might take to a pile of cushions suddenly appearing in the study at Bag End.
“Do you ever suppose we shall lead placid lives, Frodo dearest?” I mused happily, drawing a playful finger down the length of his sharp nose.
“I would certainly hope not, Sam, my love. You know how very grumpy I get when life seems to be veering into that direction.” He gave a nip to my ear to underscore the point. “Why, would you like that?”
“I suppose I would have married Rosie, or some other village lass, long ago if that had been the case,” I couldn’t help but laugh. “But as it stands, I’m besotted with you, and there’s always mystery and danger when you are about.”
Frodo chuckled then, and blowing his pipe out, laid it to the side. “I suppose it seems that way. But the only mystery that currently attracts my attention is how you manage to be so decidedly alluring, given the fact that I’ve known you since you were a fauntling.”
“Indeed, that is a mystery that demands investigation,” I couldn’t help but laugh, wordlessly encouraging him over me once again. “Perhaps we need to examine the facts of the case once again.”
“I’m sure it’s entirely elementary, my dearest Gamgee,” I heard him breathe in my ear, before his delectable mouth, once again, found mine.
It was the sharp rap on the door the brought both of us to our senses, the next morning, for Frodo had not left at dawn’s first light as he had planned.
“In a moment, in a moment,” I called out rather sharply, for my dreams had been extraordinarily pleasant, but Frodo was already scrambling out of bed and donning his ragged garments once again.
The sound of footsteps faded down the hallway, but Frodo shook his head ruefully, as I silently implored him back to bed again, and murmured, “I meant to leave far earlier than this, Sam, dear. I’m quite sure I do not know what to do about this odd effect you have on me, but all logic seems to escape me in your presence.” Bending over me, he kissed me tenderly, and then made his way over the boxes and other paraphernalia to the window. “I’ll be back to the inn with rest of the like-minded riverhobbits in a few hours, Sam. In the meanwhile, talk to your patients today, and determine how many will stand with us. Today is the day I mean to bring this to a head. Take care in all that is to come, Sam, my love, and I will do the same.” Then he was gone, in the white misty morning, and I was alone.
I brought the dishes back to the kitchen, feeling rather guilty about my sharp tongue, and was astounded to find, already sitting in the large common room, a good many of my patients from the day before awaiting the various medicines and poultices that I had spent the previous evening concocting. “My, my,” I muttered in some consternation, as the proprietor grinned, and handed me a hot mug of tea.
“Expect as you’ll be that busy this morning,” he chuckled. “I’ll have a bit of breakfast sent in, and my lad is at your disposal. I must say, this is as fair as an amount of business as I’ve had in many a day, and no mistake. But there just might be another reason for them all showing up besides their aches and pains.”
As indeed there was. I could hear the conversations about me, as I met again with each ailing hobbit in turn, and the return of the wildhobbits, as they called them, in the hills was the chief topic of conversation. Baggins had been quite right about the timing, I realized, for they definitely had the look of a group of hobbits who had been pushed to the brink by the marauding band led by Nethercleft. As I listened, and asked a question or two as I took care of my patients, and nibbled my breakfast as best I could, a better picture of the whole situation began to fall into place.
Apparently, Nethercleft’s hobbits had used the caves in the hills not far from Halfthistle for quite a few years now. This portion of the Shire had unusually porous rock, and the hills to the east and south were known to have quite a number of large caves. They were a desperate looking lot, and the folk of the village made sure they kept their distance, but otherwise the two groups had uneasily coexisted, until this past summer. Traffic on the river had then taken a sharp upturn, and there seemed to be cargo coming from the river to the caves on a more regular basis than before. Any curiosity on the part of the villagers had been strongly discouraged, and there were even reports of one or two of the more curious of the townsfolk having disappeared altogether. There had been talk of sending a delegation of inquiry to the caves but, in the end, fear won out, and none went.
This autumn, however, matters had become even more strained, since the interlopers were becoming not at all loathe to descend upon the local farmers and make off with what provisions they saw fit to take, with only a pittance for payment, and often not even that. The conclusion was clear. Something must be done. But it was obvious to me that until they had some sort of leader, nothing would.
I kept them engaged in conversation, however, after I finished my attentions, and it did not hurt the situation at all that it was a chilly and mizzling day out of doors, conducive to lingering about where there was a warm fire and plenty of company. And it was not more than an hour before that company was increased by the arrival of Bobbin and his party. Farmer Browning was clearly a hobbit of some standing in the community of Halfthistle, and his position on the matter was sought immediately. Before too long, the consensus was clear. The ruffians must be flushed from the caves and the community be rid of them for good. The question of exactly how was, unfortunately still fairly vague, but that situation was to change quite soon.
&&&&&
It was a very different Baggins who abruptly entered the inn, with a score of grizzled river hobbits behind him, than the old and bent hobbit he had presented himself to be on the shores of the Brandywine the previous day. No, now he held himself tall and proud, and his eyes blazed from his begrimed face in a manner that was wondrous to see. There was no doubt in the heart of every hobbit present that a leader had unexpectedly appeared before them. A startled hush fell across the room as he began to speak, and I could no more have helped the pride that swelled my heart than stop my very breath.
“There is a villain in your midst, the like of which the Shire has rarely seen,” he jumped atop a sturdy barrel near the door so that all could see who spoke. “You all know that it is Nethercleft of whom I speak, and you also all know that he and his hobbits have been the scourge of this neighborhood for many a year now. But what you all do not know is the full extent of his corruption. For the past several years now, he has been responsible for a systematic plunder of goods that travel the Brandywine. And most specifically, the Longbottom leaf harvest, renowned throughout the Shire and beyond as the most supreme variety of pipeweed. These thieves have taken the entire crop, shipment after shipment, from the Buckland fields this year.”
“Is that what they’ve been a-draggin’ up in those caves of theirs?” Farmer Browning asked incredulously. “How would you know that, and who are you?”
“As for the first, because my companions,” and here he motioned to the hobbits waiting silently behind him, “and I helped his hobbits bring it up from the river. And as for the second? Well, there is something else you folk need know. Nethercleft has also kidnapped the young heir of Brandy Hall as well, and holds him for ransom in the caves even now.”
There was a sudden collective gasp of horror at this, for Halfthistle was part of Buckland, and Saradoc Brandybuck and his young son were held in high regard by all and sundry. But all were not yet convinced. “How can we be certain if any of this is a bit true?” growled a grizzled hobbit, thumping his half-pint on the table. “I still not be knowin’ who you are, and that pack you brought wi’ya are a fearsome lookin’ lot.”
“I do not answer for their looks,” Baggins replied coolly, as a murmur of grumbled agreement swept the room, “but I can, in point of fact, answer for their bravery. And as for myself, I am Meriadoc Brandybuck’s cousin, and if anyone else has reason to doubt my sincerity, I will take the matter up with them personally.”
“Here, Fred, you used to work at Brandy Hall,” the grizzled hobbit was still not reassured, and nudged the even older hobbit at his side. “Is this young poppycock all he says he is?”
Fred rose on rather wobbling knees and stumped over to where Baggins stood, peering at him closely through rheumy eyes as the rest of the hobbits watched, awaiting his judgment. “Why, bless the stars,” Fred stumbled back in surprise as he finally got a good look at Baggins’ face. “There ain’t any mistakin’ those eyes, no ways! Frodo Baggins, as I live and breathe! We surely did miss you when you left for Hobbiton.”
“Good of you to remember, Fred, and it is certainly fine to see you again, likewise,” Baggins assured him, with a wry smile, and a warm clasp of his shoulder. “I infiltrated his company at Stock,” he continued, turning back to the stunned audience, who was still trying to assimilate that last bit of news. “The hobbits I have brought here with me did not have a choice. They are dock workers from Stock, the last village Nethercleft invaded, and were forcibly conscripted to join his band. We managed to escape under the cover of night, but they are willing to join in combat with you, for they know that their village, and their dear ones still there, will have no peace or safety until Nethercleft is forever gone from these hills.”
“What Baggins says is true,” came the rough voice of one of the riverhobbits standing behind him. “This’d be Jem Reedborn as who’s talkin’. We’re ready to take care of what needs t’be done. Will ye stand w’us?”
I could see the folk of Halfthistle turn to each other with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, but still a trace of mistrust as well. That did it for me. I jumped to my feet and nervously cleared my throat, causing those about me to turn and stare at me. Public speaking has never been my suit, and for a dreadful moment, my mind was blank, but then I locked eyes with Baggins and the words came to me. “I have come here as well to assist you in this undertaking. I truly am a healer, but my name is Samwise Gamgee, and I am proud to call myself a dear friend of Frodo Baggins. I would follow wherever he would lead, and if he says the matter is to be done, then it will be, and there is no more question about it. We have come to rid you of Nethercleft and rescue the heir of Buckland. Who will follow?”
And in the rising murmur of voices, one rang out clear and true. “I will, at that!” and we saw Bobbin’s eager and determined face beaming from the back of the room. “I ain’t afraid o’that villain!”
Public opinion, nearly immediately, fell behind that of Bobbin, and we had our troops.
&&&&&
I found myself, not long after, staring into what appeared to be a trough at the side of a field, overgrown with brush. “And what did you call this again, Bobbin?” I asked dubiously of my companion, who was watching along with myself and the majority of the riverhobbits as the farmer’s lad darted down into the brush and mysteriously disappeared.
“Geordie says as it’s called a holloway,” Bobbin indicated his disappeared friend as the authority on the matter. ‘Tis an old road, and none use it any more, but it’s still there all the same.”
Geordie’s head poked out again, a stray leave or two decorating his short nose, which he blew impatiently off. “Come along, then, ‘tis plenty o’room for the lot of us. They’ll never be thinkin’ o’this holloway, no ways.”
That was a compelling argument, so I followed the lad in and found myself in a curious green underworld. I saw at once that this had once been a road of sorts, but seasons of rainfall, and the porous nature of the local stone, had contrived to sink the route well below the fields that had served as shoulders to the road. It had been abandoned, therefore, as a thoroughfare, and the brush and trees along the sides had grown undisturbed until they grew high enough to join over the top, creating a green verdant tunnel in the midst of everyday fields of hops and oats. Obviously it was a pathway that was in use, if not by hobbits, for I could hear rustling in the thick brush, and the sound of small scurrying animals.
Geordie shrugged when I mentioned this to him. “Naught but wee creatures, Mister Samwise, coneys and mice and birds and the like. They’ll get out of our way fast enough. I’ve found a plump coney for dinner down here many a time, but with so many others here, no way will I’ll be a-sneakin’ up on one today. No matter, we’ve bigger game ahead.”
“And much more dangerous, too,” I added, watching Bobbin and Geordie as they made their way through the growth at the forefront of our line. “I want the two of you lads falling behind us, once we are there. After all, we may have need of messengers to the rest of our company, and you two lads would be just the pair to call on.”
The pair of them, who had turned glum faces around at my first comment, brightened up considerably at the second thought, and went back to forging our path with renewed determination.
Indeed, I realized, marveling as we continued to scramble along at how much steeper the sides of the holloway were becoming, and how much warmer it was down here in the eerie green light, which was exactly what we might have need of, depending where this strange road left us. Baggins, Farmer Browning, Jem as leader of the riverhobbits, and myself had put our heads together before we left the inn, and had devised a plan. Nethercleft would not be surprised, we felt, to see a group of townsfolk from Halfthistle make an attempt to storm his cave fortress. Farmer Browning had taken on the lead of that group, and Baggins had gone with them to show the way, and to make the attempt to free Brandybuck, if at all possible. But what he would not be expecting is a second group to attack, especially the riverhobbits who had managed to escape under cover of darkness, and whom he would expect to be on their way back to their homes at Stock and beyond. It was essential, then, that we arrive in the greatest of secrecy, and wait until we heard sound of the first group attacking before we did so as well. And a pair or messengers would most likely be just what we might need.
The holloway took a few unexpected turns, constantly appearing to be coming to an end to the uninitiated eye, and there was a fork or two as well, so we were grateful indeed for Geordie’s expert direction. The light in the holloway was beginning to glint more golden, a sign that the sun was beginning to set high overhead, when he stopped and indicated a fork that seemed to rise sharply upward. “That way leads out to the back of the hill, behind the caves,” he whispered, turning back to Bobbin and myself.
“What is the land like thereabouts?” I asked with some apprehension. “Is it fields there too?”
“Nay, ‘tis the woods. Nobody lives in these parts, no ways. They say ‘tis the end of the Shire, here.”
“Shire or no, it sounds ideal for our purposes,” I replied with relief, and immediately consulted with Jem Reedborn, who had come up to join us. We agreed that he and I, along with the two lads, should emerge from our cover, initially, and determine how we were situated. Then Geordie would be sent on to find his father, to let the rest of our companions know that we were ready and waiting, and Bobbin would go with him, to be sent back to us only if needs be. Only when Nethercleft and his hobbits were fully engaged with the others would we join in the fray, to maintain our advantage of surprise. The four of us, therefore, poked our heads cautiously from the exit of the holloway, and glanced around.
Our small guide had been correct regarding our location. The holloway had ended because we were now on the higher hills, at the foot of a dark and dank forest. Pine, cedar, and fir grew thickly ahead of us, and the ground, which was soggy from the recent rain, was abundantly covered with moss and ferns. All was silent, in the fading light, save the occasional heavy flap of wings overhead as unseen large birds returned to their nests for the night, in the high tops of the trees.
I gave an involuntary shudder as I looked about. It was not the place I would have chosen to spend a chilly night. Jem, standing at my side, gave an affirming nod. “We’d not be gettin’ much of a fire goin’ this night, no ways,” he agreed. “That way we took was givin’ me the shivers, I don’t mind mentioning, but leastways it was more homey than this.”
“Well, we shouldn’t be here long,” I murmured, endeavoring to make my voice matter-of-fact. “Very well, then, captain,” I addressed the young lad at my side with an attempt at a light-hearted manner. “Take us near the caves, but not too near, mind you. And then once we are situated, it’s off with you to your father and Mister Baggins, and let them know that we are ready when they are.”
He nodded, with a struggle between excitement and apprehension clearly apparent on his dirt-smudged face, and Jem disappeared back down the holloway to motion his hobbits to follow, as stealthily as possible. And then we were off, picking our way carefully down the rocky slope away from the woods, careful of the damp moss-covered stones that made for treacherous footing, and as for myself, desperately hoping that the light would hold out until we reached our destination, for indeed this was not a path I would care to follow in the dark.
Our luck held, however, for just about the time I was truly needing to strain my sight to distinguish bush from boulder, Geordie stopped in front of me and held up a warning hand. “We’re near enough, to be sure,” he whispered, and I suddenly realized what he meant. The steady murmuring sound that I had been assuming to be merely the noise of a nearby tributary of the Brandywine was also covering the muttering and babble of what must have been a fairly large number of hobbits. I began to pick out individual voices, as I listen carefully, and quickly determined that they had no premonition of what was to occur. Most of the conversation was in regard to the preparation of the evening meal, together with the occasional burst of laughter and rude joke. “Very well,” I whispered to both of the lads, when we had found places in the shadow of a large rocky ledge directly behind the caves. From here I could see the narrow path that led to the ledge of the rocky wall high above the river, where the openings of three large caves could be seen, each lit by firelight from within, and a goodly crowd of hobbits milling in and out of each of them. “Your father and the rest of our company should be at the foot of the river, just past the caves. We will be awaiting their attack. Once all Nethercleft’s followers are engaged with them, we will make our own attack. Both of you lads, though, stay out of the fray as best you can. We shall need you if we must send word to each other, and there is naught to be gained by trying to take on these villains yourselves.”
“Don’t you be frettin’ on our account,” Bobbin assured me cheerfully, with a quick squeeze of my arm. “We’ll be there in no time, I promise you!”
I began to add another caution, for it troubled me to have such young lads involved in this matter, but it was too late. In a moment, their small shapes could barely be seen scampering through the rocks in the dusk, and quite soon, they were gone.
&&&&&
I’ll never forget the events of that night, as close to battle as I ever wish to be. Not long after we were all in place, a fearsome noise broke out on the far side of the camp, and I could see the townsfolk storming the bandits’ stronghold, with Farmer Browning and Baggins in the lead. There were only few moments of confusion among Nethercleft’s company, and then they quickly engaged the hobbits from Halfthistle in battle, clearly having been expecting this attack.
My heart sank as I saw both Nethercleft and a burly large hobbit, obviously one of his chief lieutenants, make a concerted attack on Baggins. They had large knives, gleaming in the firelight, whilst his weapon was only a stout staff. That was all it took, and I suspect that we did not wait nearly as long as we should have, but there was no holding back for me any longer. With a great cry that seemed to come from someone else, I snatched up my own cudgel, with which I had armed myself, and bounded down the gravelly ledge that led to the other side of the caves, heedless of my own safety and indeed, anything else but the sight of Baggins holding off two formidable opponents at once. Fortunately, after a moment’s surprise, Jem and his companions were at my heels, yelling deafeningly as well.
Most of Nethercleft’s pack never saw or heard us coming, in the fray, but a few towards the rear nervously turned about at our approach. But before they could alert their comrades, we had joined in the battle as well, and I heedlessly hit about me in a perfect frenzy until I finally made my way to where Baggins fought. With a hearty whack, I disposed of Nethercleft’s assistant, and he fell to the ground unconscious. Baggins gave me a brief thankful smile, and then glanced past me as Nethercleft, suddenly realizing that a new group had entered into the battle, left us with a snarl, and ran up the stony slope to give commands to his subordinates to meet the new threat.
“Good of you to drop in,” Baggins breathed, catching my shoulder in a tight grip. “Bit of a tight spot there. But have a look to Meriadoc, would you?” He gestured to just inside the mouth of one of the caves, where I could see Brandybuck bound to a post. “The perfect time to get him out of this mess would be now, in all this confusion. Have Bobbin take him to the holloway and await us there. He should be safe enough there for the time being.”
I nodded, and briefly gripping his hand in mine, murmured, “Watch yourself, me dear,” and went to do his bidding. As I made my way to Brandybuck though, through the thick of the skirmish and fending off stray blows as best I could, I happened to notice that he had a curious expression on his face. It wasn’t fear, or anger, or anything I would have expected, but rather akin to wary anticipation. As he noticed me approach, he gave me a short nod and frown, as if warning me off. And as I stood there for a moment, undecided, his expression abruptly changed to one of alarm and he let off with a piercing whistle.
“Ho, there, Nethercleft!” he yelled, to my astonishment. “Are these lads having the best of you?”
When I heard Nethercleft’s answering roar of fury, I realized, with a start, that he had been just behind me. Instinctively, I ducked down, and just in time, as a knife whistled through the air where my head had been. I stumbled a bit, having been thrown off by the sudden realization of what might have been my fate, but as I gained my footing, I glanced back up to where Brandybuck was tied, as an enraged Nethercleft thundered past me to his helpless captive.
But to my astonishment, Nethercleft’s hostage grunted something to the tall impassive guard at his side, and with a sudden flick aside of the ropes that had appeared to bind him, both Brandybuck and his guard charged forward to meet the fearsome chief. He had a second knife, gleaming in the firelight by now with blood, and they did not, but it seemed to make little difference to the pair of assailants. They had nothing but their bare hands with which to defend themselves, at least until I heard Baggins’ voice from behind me. “Merry!” he yelled out, and his staff sailed past me and was expertly intercepted by Brandybuck’s companion, who immediately handed it over to the younger hobbit.
“Good of you, Frodo,” grunted the recipient, never glancing away from his opponent, and with the addition of the weapon, quickly started making headway against him.
“That does leave me rather short,” Baggins calmly mentioned, as he stood by my side, catching his breath, “so I’ll just rely on you for a bit.”
“As long as you like, my dear.” I must confess that my heart swelled a bit with pride, as I held off some of the thieves, who were trying to come to the aid of their chief.
But as soon as two of the villains attempted to attack me at once, he stepped forward, and with a swift blow, sent one tumbling senseless to our feet, as the one I had walloped with my cudgel staggered off with little appetite for more. “Very nice,” I heard his murmur, but before I could respond, I saw Brandybuck had managed to evade Nethercleft’s savage knife thrust and his staff came down on Nethercleft’s head with a resounding thunk. Nethercleft staggered forward, knife still raised even though blood was streaming down his face, but the tall hobbit at Brandybuck’s side gave a fierce kick at Nethercleft’s feet at the very same instant Baggins pushed past me and gave the brigands’ chief a hearty shove forward. Nethercleft landed face first on the gravel, and did not move.
The rest of his hobbits, once they saw their leader fall, quickly decided that this engagement was over, and nearly instantly melted into the night, and were never seen again in this part of the Shire, to the best of my knowledge. Farmer Browning and the two lads were soon at my side, as was Jem, and we all stared down at the unconscious hobbit who had been the source of so much grief.
“I leave him in your hands, my good Browning,” Baggins murmured at last. “Unless, of course, Merry, your father would care to have a word on the matter.”
“I’ll gladly go along with whatever the Master of Buckland might suggest,” Browning said grimly, “but it don’t matter much to me. He ain’t goin’ anywhere he likes, for a very long time.”
“Excellent,” Baggins nodded with satisfaction. “Oh, and Merry, you might want to check in the farthest cave. I believe that most of this year’s crop of Longbottom has been tucked away in there. And Reedborn here, and his hobbits, would be glad to help you get it to wherever it needs to go. I will vouch for them entirely. And Gamgee, you might want to look to my shoulder, if you wouldn’t mind. . . ” It wasn’t until he turned and slowly began to sink to the ground, that I saw that his entire side was covered in blood.
&&&&&&
Between Brandybuck and myself, we managed to get Baggins back to the inn, leaving Reedborn and Browning to tackle the confinement of Nethercleft. Bobbin accompanied us, along with his cousin, with whom he had been reunited to their mutual delight. The path was dark and footing uncertain, but the ever resourceful Bobbin had managed to snatch up a lantern from the bandits’ stronghold, and led the way for us. It seemed like far longer than it actually must have been and the quantity of blood, continuing to seep through the strips of my shirt which I had torn off and bound around him before we left, had my heart in my throat the entire way back. Brandybuck said nothing, but his face was grim, and I knew that he was trying his best to jostle his unconscious cousin as little as possible.
It was fairly close to midnight by the time we reached the inn, and were able to lay him on the small cot in the back room that had been assigned to me the night before. I left Bobbin and his master to explain, in great detail, what had happened on the cliffs’ edge in front of the caves Nethercleft had commandeered for so long. The innkeeper, as well as the straggling group seated about the great room, were properly horrified at the tale, but I had no interest in the account whatsoever, and promptly shut myself in the back with Brandybuck and the tall hobbit who had assisted him in the fray and followed him yet.
“How is he, Sam?” Brandybuck blurted out anxiously, as soon as we gently lay his unconscious form on the rough bed. “Will he be all right?”
I had no mind for idle speculation, however, and immediately set them to assisting me. “Start the fire, Merry,” I ordered peremptorily, “and you. . “ Here I paused, not having the slightest idea who this other hobbit was.
“Tobias,” he supplied quickly, touching his forehead.
“Tobias it is,” I nodded, not making any effort to determine why that name seemed familiar. “Two buckets of water, then, Tobias, as quickly as possible. You’ll find some empty ones over by the door, I believe.”
Rolling Frodo gently to his uninjured side, I cautiously cut away the strips of my shirt with a blunt knife, and examined the wound. It was just under his left shoulder blade, and for a hideous moment, I questioned whether the knife had reached his heart. But my training stood me in good stead, and I realized that it would have bled far more profusely if that had been the case. Fortunately, Tobias had by now arrived with at least one bucket of clean water, and I was able to begin gingerly washing the wound.
What I saw when it was clean, however, was disconcerting. The knife had not gone as deep as I had feared, but the slash was wide, and at a site where it would be difficult for the patient to keep from moving it about as it healed. There was no hope for it, then, and now was the time to treat it, while Baggins was still unconscious. “Fetch me a needle, some strong thread, and wax,” I ordered peremptorily, and paid no mind to who left to do my bidding.
While I waited impatiently, I checked my patient over, forcing myself, to the best of my ability, to treat him in an unemotional manner. I could not allow memories of this same smooth skin as seen by firelight, the way the muscles played underneath, my familiarity with every glint and shadow that golden light cast on it, to distract me from what had to be done.
At last Brandybuck returned with what I required, and I cleaned the needle in the pot of hot water at my side and threaded it, biting the thread off sharply. As I rubbed wax into the thread to allow the stitches to go through more easily, I finally looked up to the other two. “Merry, you must go for the moment,” I told him gently, seeing his shocked expression. “Find some clean cloths that I can use as a bandage once I am through. Don’t fret, my dear lad, I’ve done this before. It will heal faster this way.”
Brandybuck swallowed hard, his face still pale, and reluctantly nodded. Not trusting his voice, he lay a gentle hand on Baggins’ head, and then quickly left the room.
“Very well, then,” I turned to the near stranger at my side.
But he spoke up immediately, with no need of instructions. “No worries, sir. I’ve seen this done a time or two. I’ll hold him fast while you work.”
“Samwise Gamgee, and pleased to meet you likewise,” I corrected him, entirely inconsequentially, and emptied my mind to all else but the task at hand.
I suppose it did not take long, but I have no way of judging. I tried to make the stitches neat, and close enough to bind the wound, without any superfluous ones. Frodo had stirred once or twice, moaning and trying to turn, but Tobias held him firmly, and to my immense relief, he did not wake up during the procedure. At last, it was over, and I bent over him to bite off the excess thread. Wiping the blood off of Frodo’s back once again, I could see that the bleeding had slowly considerably, a very good sign, and with the assistance of a closely wrapped bandage, should stop completely before long.
Brushing the hair off of my forehead with a weary sweep of the back of my hand, I murmured my thanks to my assistant. “Just hold him a moment longer, while I get some unguent with which to cover that. And I expect Merry should be just outside the door by now.”
As indeed he was, still pale, and tightly clutching a veritable stack of clean cloths. “It all went well,” I assured him quickly, as I let him in. “He should be fit as ever and back to complaining about being terminally bored in a week or so. There, there, my lad, it is really quite all right, you know,” I felt compelled to add as the young Brandybuck swept me up in a fierce embrace. “I’ll be giving him a sleeping draught, although I’m not sure if he really needs it, but I suspect we could all use a good night’s sleep.”
Merry straightened up at my response, and awkwardly smiled, brushing a quick hand across his eyes. “Farming Browning has offered me, and Tobias,” he added, nodding to his companion, “his hospitality for the night.”
“Well, there you go,” I replied, with relief. “I’ll see how he looks in the morning and we can decide what to do next from there.”
But, despite my admonition regarding a good night’s sleep, there was none for me. I left the entire bed for Frodo’s comfort, and sitting on the floor next to him, held his hand in both of mine, against my cheek, and gratefully listened to his steady breathing as he slept. Watching the flames in the fireplace, as they gradually diminished and died away, my thoughts kept me company until far into the night.
&&&&&
I was awakened, the next morning, by a gentle hand brushing across my face. Drowsily, I luxuriated in the touch until the events of the day before suddenly came back to me. “Frodo!” I exclaimed, my eyes flying open as I straightened up instantly. “My dearest, how are you?”
“I suspect you know better than I,” came the wry answer, as Frodo rolled gingerly onto his good side. “Got nicked rather badly, back there, did I?”
But there was no time to answer, as there was suddenly a rather timid tapping on the door. Giving a hearty yawn and rising from the floor, a trifle stiffly, it must be confessed, I went over and cracked the door open. The last thing I wanted to see, at this moment, was a delegation come to seek out Frodo’s opinions, thoughts, and general wisdom on any particular aspect of this whole affair, but to my relief, it was only Brandybuck, and I tugged him on in before anyone else could notice that visiting hours had apparently begun.
“Hullo, Merry,” Baggins gave his cousin a warm smile and tried to raise himself into a sitting position.
“Now, then, Frodo, do have a care!” I couldn’t help but fuss, rushing back over to him. “All my careful work will be for naught if you move incautiously, you know.”
“Why, what sort of miracles did you have to perform on me, Sam?” Frodo gave a weak laugh as Brandybuck quickly joined me in helping raise him to a more upright position.
“Sam had to sew you up, Frodo!” Merry was quick to inform him, obviously disappointed that the bandaging was in the way of a good view of my work. “As with a needle and thread! I couldn’t watch,” he continued, with noticeable reluctance. “My stomach was getting quite jumpy at the thought of it. But Tobias stayed and helped, and told me all about it afterwards.”
“Tobias? Indeed that brings up quite an interesting point,” Frodo mused, suddenly alert and ignoring my efforts to remove the strips of cloth about himself.
“Frodo, you can chat with Merry all you like on this matter, if you will but raise your arm just the slightest,” I grumbled, gently catching the limb and lifting it as I interrupted him.
“Oh, very well. I say, was this your shirt, Sam? I thought I recognized that button. Very sorry about that, old thing, I’ll have to make that up to you. Anyway, Merry, the subject was Tobias. So what did he tell you regarding the cause of his absence?”
“What was most likely the truth,” Merry replied slowly, with a troubled look on his face. “That he was originally sent to Brandy Hall by Nethercleft to live with us and collect information on the harvest and shipping. And that he unexpectedly fell in love, and married, and began to feel at home with us. After many years with no word from Nethercleft, he thought that he had been forgotten, and was quite happy to be so. But last spring, he received word that Nethercleft was planning to steal this year’s Longbottom harvest, to send it south on the Brandywine, to the Blue Hills, from whence he and Tobias came. Tobias wasn’t at all willing, but Nethercleft threatened to blackmail him if he did not assist.”
“But when I recognized him, I fouled matters up so much that the villains felt compelled to capture me as well. When they decided to hold me for ransom, he felt that matters had gone too far. Nethercleft unsuspectingly allowed him to be my guard, and he arranged it so that I only appeared to be trussed up, whenever necessary. We were awaiting our moment, last night, when Nethercleft might come close enough to me that we could spring on him together, and thanks to all of you, it finally came.”
“Do you trust him?” Frodo asked sharply, intently studying his cousin’s face, as I gingerly lifted the last of the cloth from his back.
“Yes, I do,” Merry lifted his chin decisively. “We had many hours in which to talk, these past few days, and I sincerely believe that he can be trusted.”
“Very well. Since word must have reached your father by now, he will be frantic with worry over you. You need to return home immediately, along with the rest of the hobbits from Brandy Hall, and Tobias will be just the hobbit to accompany you.”
“And Nethercleft?” Merry asked, before sneaking a look at Frodo’s back, which I had just wiped clean. “Oh, I say, Frodo! That is some fine stitching back here! What a pity you can’t see it.”
“Indeed,” Frodo murmured with a wry grin. “But then I would expect no less,” he added, with a warm smile in my direction. “However, you bring up a critical point, Merry. We must discuss the matter of Nethercleft’s disposition before you go. If you wouldn’t mind gathering all the interested parties together, I believe that we can settle the matter over breakfast. And yes, I will be getting up, Samwise,” he muttered in response to my horrified look. “It will heal just as nicely if I am vertical as it would if I were horizontal. Plus, I am famished. The life of a river hobbit is sadly lacking in the proper number of meals, and I plan to compensate for this past week as quickly as possible.
&&&&&
Nature had, at last, relented, and it was a blue sky above us as we glided up the Brandywine. Bobbin and his cousin, Briarfoot, had rented a lovely flat and stable boat, I was gratified to realize, with which to return to Stock and they were delighted to have Baggins and myself along for company. So I had a comfortable seat against some bales of blankets and the like, and Frodo had, as was proper for the convalescence of the wounded hero, his head in my lap, and I was regaling the company with tales, all entirely true, of Bobbin’s resourcefulness and ingenuity. Briarfoot was shaking his head in wonder, and I could see that he was viewing his young foundling cousin in an entirely new light. Indeed, he was soon confessing that, not having fallen naturally into the role of a parent, the fact that young Bobbin was growing up had completely escaped his notice.
“We just never got to talking together that much, I suppose, hobbit to hobbit like,” he confessed to Baggins and myself, as Bobbin beamed happily, “but the lad is full to the brim of ideas. Looks as if I’ve a partner now.”
They went back to their happy discussion regarding improvements to the Leaping Trout, which could have started with the name, in my private opinion, but my attention soon wandered from that topic. “Frodo, me dear,” I murmured quietly to my companion, “what made you realize that Nethercleft was not just some ordinary bandit?”
“Why, what you mentioned about the language in which he spoke to his subordinates, of course, Sam,” he answered, cocking his head back and smiling up at me. “The words you mentioned had me puzzled indeed, until I remembered a rumor I had heard from Cook about Tobias on one of my trips back to Brandy Hall with Bilbo. From the Blue Hills, she said he came, and I just supposed that was a part of the Shire with which I was unfamiliar, and thought no more about it. It was only after I was thinking that the language had the feel of that of the men from the south that we encountered earlier, and yet was not the same, that I remembered that the Blue Hills indeed lay outside of the Shire. And it would stand to reason that if hobbits had settled there, long ago, that their own language would have become quite different from what is spoken in the Shire. That’s when I realized that Nethercleft had come, or possibly had been sent, to establish a trade route between the Shire and the south. Longbottom was the first commodity to be taken, but I have no doubt that it would not have been the last.”
“But how ridiculous, Frodo,” I couldn’t help but respond, with some disbelief. “Surely if they had purchased it in the normal fashion, it would have been easier for all concerned?”
“One never knows,” Frodo mused, his gaze shifting to the trees on the river bank. “One would think so, certainly, and yet the Shire has always been reluctant to deal with outsiders. Perhaps they felt as if they had no choice. In any case, I still think it was wise to deal with Nethercleft as we did. I do not think that the Shire can consider itself insulated from the world at large any longer, and a modicum of restraint can go a long way.”
I could not help but give a skeptical huff at that judgment. I had had to agree that it was impractical to assume that Nethercleft could have been locked up forever, and yet to allow him to leave seemed, at best, imprudent to me. Yet Frodo, Farmer Browning, Jem Reedborn, and even Meriadoc Brandybuck all had agreed that it was best to send him packing from the Shire with a stern warning that the Shire was not such easy prey as apparently was supposed, and that all in this farthing would be on the alert for any nefarious doings for some time to come, and would not hesitate to quickly band together to drive the villains out, should they choose to return. “After all,” Browning had mentioned sternly, “we’ve had a taste of what we can do when we stick together. And many thanks to Mister Baggins, here, for showing us the way.”
Certainly I had no reservations as to agreeing with the last statement, so I kept the rest of my concerns to myself, but of course that had not deceived Baggins in the slightest.
The rest of the trip proved uneventful, and the rain mercifully held off until we arrived in Stock, where it proceeded to make up for lost time.
Both of the Briarfoot cousins quickly offered us hospitality at the inn, but I shook my head. “No need,” I thanked them anyway. “I believe I have a day or two left on the smial I rented. May as well get full value on the thing.”
&&&&&
I leaned back against the cushions, before the crackling fire, content with my life and everything in it. Baggins lay snuggled against me, blowing smoke rings into the already befogged room. His left shoulder was still bandaged but we had managed, quite inventively I must say, to do whatever we could and still not disturb it. But we were currently blissfully sated, the rain was pounding quite entertainingly against the shutters, the stew was bubbling merrily away and the wine was uncorked, and I was beginning to contemplate how the Widow might take to a pile of cushions suddenly appearing in the study at Bag End.
“Do you ever suppose we shall lead placid lives, Frodo dearest?” I mused happily, drawing a playful finger down the length of his sharp nose.
“I would certainly hope not, Sam, my love. You know how very grumpy I get when life seems to be veering into that direction.” He gave a nip to my ear to underscore the point. “Why, would you like that?”
“I suppose I would have married Rosie, or some other village lass, long ago if that had been the case,” I couldn’t help but laugh. “But as it stands, I’m besotted with you, and there’s always mystery and danger when you are about.”
Frodo chuckled then, and blowing his pipe out, laid it to the side. “I suppose it seems that way. But the only mystery that currently attracts my attention is how you manage to be so decidedly alluring, given the fact that I’ve known you since you were a fauntling.”
“Indeed, that is a mystery that demands investigation,” I couldn’t help but laugh, wordlessly encouraging him over me once again. “Perhaps we need to examine the facts of the case once again.”
“I’m sure it’s entirely elementary, my dearest Gamgee,” I heard him breathe in my ear, before his delectable mouth, once again, found mine.
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And Sam never would have managed that bit of a river cruise on his own. Yay, Team Bobbin!
Thank you so much, m'dear.
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This is such a great story -- heart-stopping excitement, a believable (and aptly named) band of characters, Frodo being at least as sexy when he's masterful as when he and Sam are canoodling, bandit caves...
You may not want to be distracted from your other series but I'm always eager for more Baggins/Gamgee. :)
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Ah, yes, you see Bobbin got an upgrade near the end, so to speak. This seems to be a perfect corner of the Shire for nefarious doings, and I certainly hope to see him again, especially since he now has Geordie for a second-in-command. And Sam, needless to mention, continues to find Frodo to be sex-on-a-stick, and it's fun to be able to write him first person so that he can confide his opinion to us.
Well, the quote from the first volume, for Waymeet, is already underway and shall be pure crack and unconnected to any series, but that quote from TTT? A splendid opening for a Baggins/Gamgee, IMHO. *rubs hands in glee*
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I always enjoy reading about a supposed timid folk developing some spine at the most inopportune time for the villain that is; poor Nethercleft couldn’t have gotten a more deserved punishment. Being caught and captured by these lesser-hobbits and having everyone knowing what he got up to and failed at was very satisfying.
Good tale sweetie! Hope to hear more of their adventures.
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All too often, it seems like good folk just need a bit of a prod to stand up to the villains. One of them couldn't have done much, but a whole group of them with Frodo to lead? Done AND done.
So very glad you liked it! And there definitely will be more of the lads to come. . . .
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Hey EBW, I think my favorite bits were the trip through the holloway - a little scary and mysterious; and Bobbin and Sam's journey down the River looking for Frodo. I was so relieved when Sam spotted him on the shore!
And it's always good to have a bit of fist-o-cuffs in any good mystery. I'm glad that Tobias was not one of the bad guys, but I thought Merry's father would have had Nethercleft taken to the lockholes, for a little while at least.
I'm always so delighted with the romantic love our hobbits have for each other - very sweet, loving, and sexy. I can't wait for your next tale of excitement and adventure for Baggins and Gamgee. Thank you so much!
*hugs tight*
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You know, I thought a lot about what was to be done to Nethercleft, and figured that hobbits really wouldn't have had any long-term lockup. So, since he was not local, off he went. Which, of course, means he can always show up again - heh. I'm sure you are quite right about Saradoc, but he didn't get a vote in the matter, although I bet he has Some Words with Merry about the matter later!
Thank you so much once again, and it's looking like some more Baggins/Gamgee might pop up in Sept. *eyes
*gives you a good squishy hug back*
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Frodo wounded! I wasn't expecting that at all, but thank goodness Samwise is a healer. I do love a bit of h/c, myself.
And, as always, I love the way you treat the love between these two lovely hobbits. *melts*
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I think Bobbin is going to be useful - he just might show up again. ;)
And it did seem such a shame not to put Sam's new occupation to good use - hee!
Thank you so very much, my dear. *hugs*
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It's great to be able to write in a more educated Sam's voice, first person, and since it's Holmsian canon, it just seems to go. Sam's an observer, in any version of LOTR, and that helps. Plus he has an eternal fascination with Frodo, which is all to the good, as he can join the rest of us in that crowd. ;D
Thank you so much, my dear!
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