CHAPTER 2: UNEXPECTED NEWS 

“Uncle Saradoc?” Berilac’s voice sounded slightly impatient.

With a start, Saradoc realized that his nephew must have spoken his name more than once. “I’m sorry, Beri. I was just thinking.”

“It’s all right, uncle. They’ll be back in about four days, they said.”

Saradoc stood up and gave his nephew’s shoulder a squeeze. “You’re a good lad, Beri. I appreciate your help.”

Berilac blushed, but was saved having to reply by the sound of a pony rapidly approaching.

“Master Brandybuck! Master Brandybuck!” It was one of the Banks lads, who helped to tend the Brandywine Bridge. He dismounted at a run.

“Easy, lad, catch your breath! Now, what is it?”

“There are Men at the Bridge. They want to come into the Shire!”

Berilac paled, but the Master of Buckland remained calm. “Are there now? I’m assuming they’ve posed no threat so far, or you’d be blowing the Horn-call, not bringing a message in person.”

“No, they’ve not done anything wrong. They’ve set up camp north of the Road--there are quite a few of them, but only two came to talk to us at the gate.” For one of the few innovations of Sharkey that had been allowed to remain in the Shire was the gate across the Bridge. “They said they’ve business with Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin--only they called them Sir Meriadoc and Sir Peregrin. And they’re dressed in those same kinds of outfits that Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin wear a lot of the time. They said they want permission to enter the Shire.”

Saradoc smiled. He was suddenly enlightened. He turned to his nephew who was still looking a bit puzzled, though certainly relieved to know that these Men were not ruffians and enemies. “Beri, didn’t Merry tell us that the Men in the South will celebrate the twenty-fifth of Rethe as the New Year?”

“Yes, he did. He said it was because that was the day Frodo saved the world and brought about a new age.” Berilac was still not sure what was going on, but it was obvious that his uncle had some idea in mind.

Saradoc turned to the messenger. “Lad, you go on up to the Hall, tell them I said to feed you, and that I want my pony saddled up. I’ll be going back with you. Beri, you also get a pony. I want you to go after Merry and Pippin, let them know they have company. Remind Merry of the date. He’ll know what it’s about then.”

“All right, Uncle Saradoc. I’m on my way.”

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“You know, Merry, it would have saved a great deal of trouble if we had just left this stuff at Bag End to begin with,” said Pippin. He was impatient with the slow pace of the journey by cart. On ponyback, and unencumbered, they would have been in Hobbiton a long time ago, instead of only a little more than halfway there.

“Oh, yes, Pip. Brilliant. Leave it there for the S-B.s and Sharkey! It would have been nothing but kindling by now. At least this way, Frodo gets almost all his things back.” Merry shook his head. Pippin had changed and grown in a lot of ways, but patient he would never be.

“Ah, well, yes.” Pippin sat back, only slightly abashed, and jiggled his foot. If he couldn’t ride, he'd rather walk. Well, no, maybe not, with his knee. But a cart was so slow. He fidgeted.

Merry noticed. He decided to try a change of subject. “Sam will be really upset when he finds out Frodo’s been ill while he was gone.”

“He should be. He’d been warned by Lord Elrond, just like I had about you. He should have remembered.” Pippin was still angry at Sam over this.

“Don’t,” said Merry.

“What do you mean ‘don’t’?” asked Pippin, although he knew perfectly well.

“Don’t give him a hard time over it. He’s harder on himself than either of us would ever be on him. Also, Frodo would be really upset if he realized you were angry at Sam, and why. We‘re not even supposed to know that Frodo was sick.”

“I suppose.” Pippin sat back, quietly.

Merry began to count in his head--one, two, three, four, five--his cousin’s foot start to twitch. He suppressed a smile. “Sing for me, Pip.”

Pippin brightened up. “Oh! All right, then!” He thought for a moment, and then started in.

Old Tom Bombadil was a merry fellow;
bright blue his jacket was and his boots were yellow,
green were his girdle and his breeches all of leather; ,
he wore in his tall hat a swan-wing feather, ,
he lived up under Hill, where the Withywindle,
ran from a grassy well down into the dingle.,
Old Tom in summertime walked about the meadows ,
gathering the buttercups, running after shadows, ,
tickling the bumblebees that buzzed among the flowers ,
sitting by the waterside for hours upon hours….” (1)

Merry grinned as Pippin sang on. It was an old song Bucklanders had known for years, but it was a lot more fun to listen to, now he knew it was mostly true. It was rather a long song, and when Pippin finally finished, he paused to drink from his waterskin. Then he started in on a bawdy tavern song he had learned in Minas Tirith; Merry joined in on the choruses.

Then they sang together, old Bilbo’s favorite song about “The Road Goes Ever On”. After this, both were quiet for a time, thinking fondly of the old hobbit in Rivendell, and wondering how he fared.

Then Pippin’s voice soared.

Orthannen im viól,
Coil e dû,
Or hiriath naur,
Na rovail mae sui ’waew,
Man prestant i ardhon?,
Cerithar ain iliad dim ú thenin? (2)

“Pip, that was beautiful! What’s it mean, do you know?” For though Pippin did not speak or understand Elvish, he’d learned several songs in that language. He only needed to hear a song a few times to learn it by heart, whether he knew what it meant or not. He’d also learned a couple of Rohirric songs as well.

“Not a clue, actually,” he answered. “Legolas sang that to Frodo and Sam in Ithilien, while we waited for them to wake up. I never asked him what it meant, I just liked how it sounded, soaring up, like flying. Of course, he sang it better.” Pippin was completely unselfconscious about his singing. He knew he sang well for a hobbit.

Merry chuckled. “Yes. Well. He’s an Elf.”

They had been travelling some considerable time as they sang, and were coming in sight of the Three Farthing Stone, when they heard behind them the rapidly approaching sound of hooves, galloping by the sound of it.

Merry pulled over and the two of them jumped out. They still travelled armed and armored, though they believed the last of the ruffians had been run out before Yule. But they quickly realized it was only a hobbit on a pony.

“Hoy! Merry! Pippin!”

Berilac? Merry’s eyes widened in fearful alarm. Could something be wrong with his parents? Pippin squeezed his arm reassuringly.

But Berilac was there. He stopped the pony. “Merry, Pippin, Uncle Saradoc sent me to find you and tell you. You have guests; Men dressed in livery like yours, waiting at the Bridge.”

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(1) Taken from “The Adventures of Tom Bombadil” from The Tolkien Reader

(2) Taken from the Soundtrack of the motion picture The Return of the King

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