CHAPTER 56

The assembly had made good progress. There had not been much need for discussion or debate over the issues of messengers, and though the issue of trade was a vital one, it was decided that it was too soon to be deciding any details about that. Time enough for that when the roads were actually built, and the settlements in the wilderness came to be. And of course, the confessions of the Bankses had made the task of clearing up Lotho’s dealings in the South much simpler.

Hobbits were also agreed on the restrictions for Men to enter the Shire. It would obviously have to be something of great import--such as this embassy from the Kings--to get the Thain *and* the Master *and* the Mayor to agree on allowing them in. And in seven years, they would be able to tell if it were working out or not.

This left the question of an embassy of hobbits; it was going to be a bit more difficult, as decisions had to be made on who to send. Paladin suggested that the assembly take the next day off before dealing with this final issue.

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After tea, Sam approached Frodo.

“Mr. Frodo, I know that you said you needed me to be here, and I know you were kind enough to have Rosie and Mari here, too, but we’ve only two weeks to go until the wedding. Do you think we might be getting back to Bag End soon?”

Frodo nodded understandingly. “I am sorry about that, Sam. Give us a day or so, and then, if we are still not finished, you may take Rosie and your sister and go on back to Hobbiton.”

Sam looked distressed. “And leave you here on your own?”

Frodo stared at him in amazement. “On my own? In a smial full of Tooks and other relations? Not to mention Merry and Pippin?”

“Well, sir, Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin are fine, but your other relations, well, will they really understand?” Sam didn’t like having to spell it out. He still felt guilty about being gone in Rethe when Frodo had his illness. But he couldn’t say so, since he wasn’t even supposed to know about it.

Frodo sighed. “No, they probably don’t. But they don’t have to. I’ll be fine. Besides we may be able to wrap things up before then. Don’t fret.”

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“Merry?”

“Yes, Freddy?” Merry had gone to check on his pony at the Took stables, and Fredegar had found him there.

“You told me once that you were afraid of heights.”

“Oh my, yes. At least as afraid of heights as you are of the River.” Merry wondered where this conversation was going.

“Then how did you manage on your journey? I’ve heard some of it from you and Pip, and Legolas and Gimli have told me more. You had to climb hills and mountains and towers. Gimli told me of all the long drops in the caverns of Moria, and sleep in trees in the Golden Wood, and I know that the Ent who carried you about in the forest was quite tall. How did you do all the things that you needed to do, if you were afraid of heights?” He looked very solemn as he asked, and Merry could tell there was more behind the question than he had really said.

“Well,” said Merry thoughtfully, “I truly was afraid a lot of those times, I mean heart right down in my toes, and afraid I’d lose my lunch afraid. But I had to keep it under control. First of all, there was Pip, who didn’t need the sight of me gibbering and screaming to undermine his confidence; and there was Frodo, who was doing all he could to hang on to his own fears and didn’t need to be worried for mine. And there was the fact that there were so many other *real* things to be afraid of--Black Riders, and Orcs and so forth. I had a responsibility not to let my fear overtake me.” Merry looked at his friend closely. “What’s this all about, Freddy?”

“Since Folco is gone, the Shire has lost something for me. I’m starting to get over the feeling that I will break into pieces at every reminder, but the reminders are still painful. I’ve been thinking--” he stopped and drew a deep breath, “seriously thinking--of volunteering to go with the embassy.”

Merry looked at him, stunned. The last person he would ever imagine wanting to leave the Shire was Fredegar Bolger. But then he thought about what the Shire would feel like to him if it no longer held Pippin.

“The only problem,” Freddy continued, “is that I wouldn’t want to make a fool of myself every time we had to cross a little bit of water. Do you think I could overcome that?”

“Fredegar, you are brave enough to overcome anything. You waited at Crickhollow knowing Black Riders were after us, you stood up to Lotho’s bullies and led a rebellion, you survived being in the Lockholes. If you truly wish this, you could do it. But I promise you it won’t be easy. You’d still face that fear every time you came to a river crossing.”

His friend looked hopeful. “But you think I could do it?”

“I’m sure you could.” He smiled. “In fact, I think it would be good if you did. You would make an excellent ambassador, and you have already shown you can make good friends with other races. You would be a great representative of the Shire.”

“Thank you, Merry. I’ll talk to my father tonight.”

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Mellor and Eradan looked at their small prisoner. As they had feared, the Thain’s messenger had declined to take him into custody, but told them that word had already been sent, and they would soon know what the Thain wished.

Dago had barely spoken since his failed attempt to bribe Mellor. It had shaken him badly to realize how little he knew. He now was beginning to think that his capture might have been the best thing for him. Still, the idea of being Marked and banished put his heart right down in his toes. And for the first time he realized how dangerous banishment could be. He sighed, and then wished he had not, as it drew their attention. He found their gaze disconcerting, especially that of the Northerner, Mellor, who seemed to see right through him with a combination of amusement and disgust. The other Ranger, Eradan, looked at Dago like he was something nasty he had stepped in.

“How soon do you think we might be rid of him?” asked Eradan.

“It’s been a day and a half since the message went out, and if it were sent at top speed, I expect another day and a half to two days before they fetch him.”

They both glanced his way. “All right, Mr. Bracegirdle, it’s time.”

The hobbit nodded resignedly. They had not restrained him in any way during the daytime, but at night, before one of them slept--for they never both slept at once--they would bind him.

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A strangled cry next to him, and Pippin sat bolt upright. Bergil was moving restlessly next to him, in the throes of a nightmare. Pippin reached out to the lad, as he often had to Merry or Merry to him. “Easy, Bergil, I’m here, lad.”

“NO!” Bergil cried out, waking wide eyed and breathing raggedly.

Pippin held him and patted his back as the child wept. “There now, Bergil, I’m right here. Do you want to tell it? You don’t have to, but sometimes it helps.” Pippin knew only too well that it did not always help.

“It--it was the old Steward--he--he hanged Father for disobeying him!” Bergil shuddered.

Pippin felt a chill run down his spine and clear to his toes. Denethor was a figure out of his own nightmares. That grim, proud old man, so sure that he, and only he, could know the right thing to do. So stern and inflexible. Pippin had no doubt that if Denethor had somehow survived his own pyre that Beregond would indeed have hanged for his disobedience that night, no matter that it had been done to save the life of the Steward and his son.

“Well, lad, we know it never happened, and you are awake now.” Pippin turned to his bedside table and struck a candle. “How about a cup of tea?”

Bergil sniffled and nodded.

Pippin got up and went to the small hearth in his room. A fire had been laid but not lit, as the evening had been mild. He lit it, and then drew forth the little kettle of water that was always kept there. Soon the wonderful scent of athelas filled the room. It almost always helped to settle one down after an ill dream.

He fixed two cups and handed one to Bergil, and they sipped, and found some pleasant things to speak of. But just as they were beginning to feel sleepy again, there came a sharp rap on the door.

“Pippin? Pippin!” It was Paladin’s voice.

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Merry was riding, riding, seated before Dernhelm, riding with the Rohirrim over the plains; the hooves were pounding, pounding--

The insistent pounding, and the sound of his name, called softly but urgently, finally filtered into his consciousness. “Merry? Meriadoc?” He roused.

“Uncle Paladin?” he called, “all right, all right, I’m coming.” He stumbled from the bed, and fumbled to the door, and drew it open. “What’s wrong, Uncle Paladin? Is something wrong with Pip?”

“Pippin’s fine. I just spoke to him, too. The King’s Rangers at Sarn Ford have captured Bracegirdle. I’d like for you and Peregrin to fetch him back as soon as possible.”

Thoroughly awake now, Merry nodded. “Of course, Uncle Paladin. Give me a moment to dress and arm.”

“Certainly, lad. Come with Pippin to my study when you are ready.”

Merry dressed quickly, and was still adjusting his armor when he rapped on Pippin’s door.

“Come in, Merry,” came his cousin’s voice.

As he opened the door, he caught the familiar scent of athelas and gave Pippin a worried look.

Pippin shook his head. “Bergil had an unpleasant dream, so we had a cup of tea.” Bergil smiled at Merry as he helped Pippin into his armor.

“Be careful, Sir Pippin and Sir Merry.”

“We will, Bergil,” said Merry.

Pippin pulled Bergil down, and kissed his brow. “Get some rest, ‘cousin’.”

Bergil grinned, and climbed back into the bed.

A few moments later in front of the Smials, they were taking their leave of the Thain.

“Good-bye, Father, and do me a favor if you please.”

“Anything I can, son.”

“Ask Mother and Aunt Esme to keep a close eye on Bergil. I think he is a bit homesick and is missing his father.”

Paladin nodded, and watched his son and his nephew ride off into the night.

When they had trotted out of sight, the two Knights of the South pulled up and grinned at one another.

Pippin patted Sable’s neck. “Well, shall we see what these lads can do?”

Merry grinned. “Pybba’s from Rohan; I *know* what he can do! But let’s see anyway.”

And leaning forward, they rode like the wind.

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