Chapter 32. Make New Friends

The next morning there was a stir of excitement at the outskirts of the camp, and Ulrich’s guards were distracted from their close watch. Not that it would do Ulrich any good. His chains were sturdy, he was firmly staked to the ground, and he had no one to assist him in escaping, even if he had any desire to return to a ruffian’s lot.

He watched with interest to see what would happen. It didn’t take much to divert him. His life, for the nonce, consisted of dragging his chains as he walked, shackled, to his doom in Minas Tirith, or resting between stages. Any variance was to be savoured slowly, lest he allow his mind to dwell on what was left behind, and what lay ahead.

How odd. Pavilions that had been half-taken down were hastily erected again. It looked as if they’d be staying in one place, at least for the day. A reprieve of sorts, but what was the cause?

Bergil was called away and a young guardsman took his place. 

 ‘What’s the word?’ Ulrich said companionably.

His young guard shot him a nervous glance and refrained from answering.

Ulrich sighed. At least they might have assigned him a garrulous companion. Even the hostile hobbit had spoken more words to him than any of the Men. And Elessar, his old friend, had not come to see him since the shackles were put on. Not that the prisoner could blame the man; he’d been friends with “Ulrich” and not “Reinadan” the ruffian.

The King wandered at the outskirts of the camp; he appeared to be casting about for a trail. As Ulrich and his guard watched, Elessar moved purposefully back and forth over the ground, stiffening suddenly and calling an order. He walked away from the camp, a group of guardsmen at his heels.

 ‘What’s it about?’ Ulrich said. His guard gave no answer, simply craned after the departing search party—for they gave every appearance of searching for something.

Another guardsman called to Ulrich’s companion. He hesitated, then said to the prisoner, ‘Stay put!’

 ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Ulrich returned pleasantly. He gave his chains a demonstrative yank. Yes, the stake held firm.

The guard nodded and stalked away to confer with several others.

Ulrich closed his eyes and leaned back against the rock they’d staked him near. Ah, but the Sun was warm and pleasant, and there was a cool breeze at the moment. He’d be hot and sweating soon after they began to march, of course, but for now he’d enjoy the sunshine.

 ‘ ‘lo,’ a small voice piped.

Ulrich opened his eyes to see two tiny hobbit lasses standing before him. ‘Hullo,’ he answered, keeping a smile on his face, staying quite still so as not to alarm these little ones. He could only imagine the repercussions should they begin to cry and the guardsmen jump to conclusions. 

 ‘What’s your name?’ one of the twain said. Twins they were, he saw, and if their hair were not arranged differently from each other he’d have thought he was seeing double.

 ‘Ulrich,’ he said, though really, he had no claim to the name. Still, Reinadan was dead. He’d died long ago, in story, and soon the story would be made truth. ‘What’s yours?’

 ‘Lapis,’ the one said.

 ‘Lassie,’ chimed the other, but her sister gave her a poke and turned back to Ulrich.

 ‘She’s really “Lazuli”,’ she corrected, ‘but everyone calls her “Lassie”.’

 ‘You can call me “Lassie” too,’ that lass said. ‘All my friends do.’

 ‘But you don’t even know me,’ Ulrich said, bemused by these little ones and their easy ways.

Lassie held out a diminutive hand. Ulrich hesitated, but she gave him a commanding look and so he reached tentatively to meet her. She put her hand in his palm and made a little courtesy. ‘Lazuli Took, at your service, and your family’s,’ she said formally.

 ‘Ulrich, at yours,’ he responded, his hand swallowing her tiny one in a gentle squeeze. Like holding a butterfly, it was. When he released Lazuli, her sister Lapis put out her hand and offered her service as well.

He wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but soon he had a tiny hobbit lass perched on each of his knees, conversing so busily that he could hardly get a word in edgewise.

 ‘Those chains look so uncomfortable,’ Lapis said at last, eyeing him critically. ‘Why do you keep them on?’

 ‘It is a long story,’ Ulrich said. 

 ‘That is what Da always says when he doesn’t want to tell us something,’ Lassie said wisely.

 ‘Lapis! Lassie!’ a new voice said breathlessly. ‘What are you doing? Get away from there!’

Ulrich looked up. An older hobbit lass stood before them, like enough to be their sister, and yet unlike. She was fairer and taller than most of the hobbits he’d seen, with a gracefulness that made him think of the old stories of fairies, and the wide-eyed look of a startled doe.

 ‘This is our new friend,’ Lassie pouted, even as Forget-me-not, greatly daring, stepped close enough to grab each younger sister’s wrist and yank them to safety.

 ‘His name is Ulrich,’ Lapis contributed.

Forget-me-not turned a dark look on the ruffian. ‘I know very well what his name is,’ she said, her voice melodious even when filled with fear and anger. ‘I don’t know what mischief you intended,’ she continued, ‘but...’

 ‘I intended no mischief,’ Ulrich said, ‘honestly I did not. I apologise for alarming you, miss. We were only talking.’

 ‘We were!’ the twins corroborated with one voice. ‘We were only talking!’

Forget-me-not hmphed, and even that sound was music to the ears. Ulrich wondered who this lass was. ‘Da will have a thing or two to say about that!’

Ulrich’s guard had noticed the presence of the three young hobbits and hurried back from his conference. ‘Here now, little misses,’ he said officiously. ‘You ought not to be here. Your father wouldn’t like it!’

 ‘Here now yourself,’ Forget-me-not said regally. ‘When I tell my father the Thain—the Ernil i Pheriannath—about your lack of attention to your duties, and he tells the King...’

 ‘Please, miss,’ Ulrich said, even as the guardsman was gulping a protest. If the King determined that the young guardsman had neglected his duties he’d likely face a flogging. So the real Ulrich had told Reinadan, when reminiscing about life in the army of Gondor, before he’d resigned his place and wandered North to put the past behind him.

Forget-me-not flashed him a severe look, now that her sisters were safely out of his grasp. ‘It is to your credit that you intercede for him,’ she said, ‘but do not imagine that it will gain you any favour.’

 ‘I have no such delusions,’ Ulrich said dryly. ‘Please, miss, I meant no harm. I was only reminded of my own little daughters, sorely missed.’ He swallowed hard, and could not continue.

The hobbit lass softened slightly, took a deep breath, and nodded to the guardsman. ‘Do not relax your vigilance again,’ she said sternly, and taking a twin in each hand she walked away.

***

Ferdi came that evening, bearing two plates. He had to argue with the young guardsman to approach Ulrich, and in the end he ordered the guardsman off “in the name of the Ernil i Pheriannath, and don’t come back until you’ve had your own supper!”

 ‘You have to be firm with these guardsmen,’ he said, handing Ulrich his plate and settling nearby with his own dinner.

It was slices of roast again, but before Ulrich could soil his fingers picking up a slice, Ferdi had jumped to his feet, saying, ‘Wait, allow me!’

Ulrich watched, bemused, as the hobbit used his own fork and sharp-edged knife to cut up the prisoner’s meat and then sat back down.

 ‘I... thank you,’ he said.

 ‘Don’t mention it,’ Ferdi said carelessly, applying himself to his meat and vegetables.

 ‘Did you not fear that I would wrest the blade from your hand and threaten you with it?’ Ulrich asked, then lifted a spoonful of meat to his mouth as he awaited the answer.

Ferdi astonished him by laughing heartily. At last the hobbit said, ‘You had the youngest daughters of the Thain in your grasp... you could have used them to win your freedom! I have never before known a ruffian who did not use a hostage to his advantage.’ 

 ‘I am not a ruffian,’ Ulrich said with dignity.

 ‘I begin to believe you,’ Ferdi said. They ate together companionably, their talk ranging widely from one topic to another.

Ulrich asked him about the excitement, and the unexpected stay.

Ferdi shook his head. ‘A guardsman disappeared last night,’ he said. ‘They don’t know what happened to him, or at least they didn’t, last I heard.’

 ‘I don’t like the sounds of that,’ Ulrich said.

 ‘Nor did the King,’ Ferdi said. ‘But he’s got double the guardsmen standing watch, and each one on the perimeter is within sight of the two on either side, so there ought not to be any more disappearances.’

He finished his dinner and when the young guardsman returned from the mess the hobbit rose, to bow to the prisoner. ‘My wife is waiting for me,’ he said, ‘and the children will be wanting their story. May you have a restful night.’

 ‘And you,’ Ulrich said, and hesitated.

 ‘Yes?’ Ferdi said.

 ‘Thank you,’ Ulrich said humbly.

 ‘It was my pleasure,’ Ferdi said. ‘Good night.’