Chapter Three: The Dusty Frog Tavern

Good-natured laughter filled the dining hall of the Dusty Frog Tavern. The hobbits opted to forego elevenses in order to make good time on the road. They munched on the apples and seed cakes they packed for the trip, however, as they approached Frogmorton the growling in their stomachs began to remind them of their earlier sacrifice. The three travelling hobbits stopped for lunch to satisfy their shameless appetites and thirst.

Pippin relaxed on the bench and filled his pipe with Longbottom Leaf as he surveyed all the activity going on around him. He watched as his cousins poured over Shire maps Frodo had brought with him so they could learn the land south of The East Road. None of that interested Pippin--not as much as the pretty tavern maids. Pippin hadn’t yet worked up enough nerve to make conversation with any, especially since they were all older and in their tweens, but he had all sorts of imaginary conversations going on in his head. Each one ended up with the lass surrendering her heart to the young lad, and then serving him the largest platter of food he’d ever seen. He liked the other gender well enough, and since turning fourteen this past spring Pippin no longer saw lasses as intruders of his plans and schemes, however, his desires were still ruled by his stomach.

Pippin found that his older cousin, Merry, was much more suave in the area of lasses. When their serving maid brought their lunch, Pippin closely observed as Merry sweet-talked her into an extra helping of mushrooms. Merry’s soft, flattering speech had apparently worked it’s magic, because soon afterward a very large bowl laden with steaming mushrooms was laid before the tween. Pippin admired his older cousin’s skill; he made up his mind to try the same thing at supper when they stopped over in Stock for the night.

Pippin’s attention wandered back to his cousins at the table. “...Right here”, Frodo said as he tapped his finger in an unseen spot on the map. Merry furrowed his brow in concentration. “That will be a long march, Frodo. That portion of the land is treacherous and uneven for a pony; I can’t see us getting there and back in less than two days time.”

“Well, at any rate, I have to think of how I’m to get a very heavy sack over there”, Frodo sipped his ale and pointed to the wooded area south of the Stockbrook. “I should hate to think of us carrying it all that way.”

The comment of carrying anything for any long distance caught Pippin’s attention. “I think we should use the pony as Frodo said.”, said Pippin.

Merry looked up from the map and glared at Pippin. “And how, pray tell, do you suggest we do that without the pony throwing a shoe? The land between Woodhall and Woody End is rough.”

Pippin felt the stares of both his cousins bore into his head. “I’ll think of something!”

Frodo drank the last of his ale and slid the empty mug to the middle of the table. “Perhaps all three of us could think on it for a while as we ride on towards Stock. Although I would rather find a way that isn’t dangerous....and not carry it.”

Merry took Frodo’s hint. He drained the last of his mug, rolled up the map and bound it with a leather thong. “On to Stock, then!”

“Let me drive!” Pippin shouted from the back of the wagon.

Merry continued to gaze forward, holding the reins steady, “Pippin, the last time I let you drive, I feared for my life!”

Pippin’s pride was injured. “I’m better at it now. My father lets me drive to and from the fields with Pim all the time.”

“And the pony lived?”

“Yes, and Pim, too!” Said Pippin sardonically. “It’s not fair that you do all the driving, Merry!”

Merry felt a nudge from his smirking cousin sitting next to him, “Let the boy drive, Merry. I seem to remember another eager driver not too long ago.”

“But at least I didn’t whine about it.” Said Merry, drawing in the reins. Then he caught Frodo’s arched eyebrows. “I didn’t!”

Merry brought the cart to a stop and handed the reins over to Frodo to hold until he and Pippin changed seats. Watching Pippin climb over from the back, Merry added, “And don’t kill us!”

To everyone’s relief (including his own), Pippin got off to a smooth start.  The bridle jingled in a soothing rhythm as he drove the cart and steered the pony quite well for the first hour. The jingling music entranced Frodo, lulling him in a half-dream state while fidgeting with a golden trinket in his trouser pocket. He awoke with a shock as he felt the wagon thud hard onto the road and a fair amount of wind rushing against his face. “What’s going on?” He shouted at Pippin.

“He’s killing us!” Merry clutched the back of the wagon seat. “Stop her, Pippin!”

“I’m trying!” Pippin yelled back, straining with the reins. The small cart jumped about as it ran over bumps and ruts in the dirt road, jerking its passengers in every direction. Frodo took the reins out of Pippin’s hands and tried to bring the pony to a stop, but his efforts were in vain. A deep rut in the road cracked and broke one of the wheels making the cart lean precariously to one side and tossing a frightened Merry into the road.

“Merry!” Pippin yelled. Frodo grabbed a fistful of Pippin’s shirt with one hand and yanked him back to keep him from jumping out, while still pulling on the reins with the other.

“Stay in the cart!” Frodo shouted. With one of the wheels gone, the pony slowed down; the heavy weight of the cart dragging behind the pony enabled Frodo to bring her to a halt. Both hobbits then jumped out and ran back to check on Merry. They could see him further back in the road on his hands and knees.

“Are you all right?” Frodo asked, running to his side. “How do you feel?”

“I’m all right.” Merry made no attempt to move. “I’m only dazed.”

Frodo helped him up and took him to the side of the road, sat him down and then settled himself down next to Merry. Frodo’s hands were shaking. “What happened, Pippin?”

“I…I don’t know.” Pippin was near tears. “She kept pulling forward and so I pulled back. Then she really took off and wouldn’t stop. That’s when you woke up, Frodo.” He knelt next to Merry, “I dreadfully sorry--to both of you.”

For as much as he loved to tease his young cousin, Merry would never hold a grudge against him. “I know you are. I’ll be fine.” He said he felt fine, but his countenance told otherwise.

Frodo wasn’t going to let Pippin off the hook so easily. “No more driving for you, Pippin. Not until Merry and I give you lessons in pony training!” Then he gathered himself to get up. “Now you can help by coming with me to unhitch the cart and put our packs on the pony. Merry, you stay put for the moment.”

It took close to an hour before the pony was laden with the travelers’ packs and ready to go on without the wagon. Frodo walked a little ways off the road and beyond the trees that lined it. Standing upon a low hill overlooking The Yale, he saw at once the land roll away into a lovely countryside and then further out overgrown with thickets, then a thick line of trees in the distant haze blocked the rest of his view. Frodo knew that further, on the other side of those trees, lay the Stock Road…and the Woody End. He turned round and went back towards the East Road where his friends waited.

Pippin, having rearranged his items inside his pack, was sitting next to Merry on the road and tying it back up as Frodo approached them. “I have a proposal to make.” Said Frodo. Merry and Pippin looked up at him. “I am in need of haste. Instead of walking all the way back to Whitfurrows, let us go directly over The Yale and cross the Stock Road to the south.” He watched Merry sigh.

Pippin’s jaw dropped. “I know I’ve fouled things up, dear Frodo, but that will take at least a day’s march on foot!”

“I know that, dear Pippin,” Frodo replied, using the same address Pippin used with him. “but as I said, I am in need of haste. I would not propose this if I weren’t.”

Merry was a little calmer. “I understand your haste, Frodo, but we’ve brought very little provisions--and we ate most of it already. We planned on taking our time and staying at the Inns along the road.”

Frodo sat down next to his favourite cousin and sidled up to him, grinning. “Do you remember what we used to do when we were young lads at Brandy Hall?”

Merry looked at Frodo and knew what he was referring to. “But that was when we were mere boys, Frodo. If we were to be caught now, we’d be in a lot of trouble.”

Pippin gazed at his cousins, “You know, I have a feeling that I’ve been left out of these plots.”

Frodo looked over Merry to Pippin, “You have, for the most part, but it is because we barely had time to make any plans, let alone go into a lengthy dissertation of my personal doings.”

This time, Pippin wasn’t letting Frodo off the hook so easily. “You had plenty of time back at The Dusty Frog! I thought you could trust me, cousin.”

“I do, Pip!” Frodo protested, “But...”

“But what?” Pippin looked Frodo straight in his eyes.

Frodo returned his gaze. “Pippin, there are some things I cannot share with everyone.”

Pippin’s disappointment shone in his countenance. “But you could share them with Merry?”

“It’s not that simple...” Frodo looked away.

“Neither am I!” Now angry, Pippin stood up with his pack and walked away towards the line of trees off the road and through the bushes.

Before Merry realized what his young friend was doing, Pippin was already headed down into the little valley. “Pip! Wait!” Merry ran after him. Then he stopped just shy of the bushes; he felt torn. Do I stay with Frodo, or do I run after Pippin?

Frodo called after him from the tree-lined ridge, “Go after him, Merry!”

Then Merry turned to his cousin, “Why? When I catch up to him, what will I tell him? I can’t tell him why cousin Frodo wants to make it to the Woody End before midnight tomorrow. And the reason I can’t is because you haven’t told all to me, either.” Merry replied crossly. “Tell me Frodo--what do I tell him? I know he’s angry because you had the chance to say something in Frogmorton, but chose not to.” Merry looked at him, “Are we your friends, or not? I can tell you that I’ve entrusted him with deeper secrets than your own today, and not once has he failed me in that trust.”

Frodo sighed. “I cannot tell you, Merry--or Pippin, because I’ve been charged to not say anything.”

“Are you in trouble?” Merry asked, growing concerned for his beloved friend.

Frodo shook his head, “No, dear cousin, I am not. But if you don’t run after Pippin now, you will never catch up to him, and then we will both be in it deep with Paladin!”

“Stay here!” Merry yelled over his shoulder, now running after Pippin. “We’ll return shortly!”

Merry was gone from his sight when Frodo replied softly, “But I can’t wait.”