CHAPTER 5

The constant going back and forth for hours on end had finally wearied Merry to the point that he was willing to admit he needed rest. His father and Frodo were also tired. They came out of the tunnels, and found Esmeralda waiting for them with food and drink. Other searchers went in to take their place, knowing that they would begin the search where the light left off.

“Where’s my father?” Saradoc asked his wife.

“Menegilda came and fetched him away about an hour ago, insisting he go and rest a while. And I am going to insist on the same for the three of you.”

Merry started to cry softly. They should have found Pippin by now. They had been looking forever. He didn’t care if someone thought he was being a baby for crying, he was so tired. He did not even know which of his family picked him up and carried him over to one of the pallets. But when the familiar form lay next to him, he realized it had been Frodo.

He could hear his parents talking softly.

“It’s nearly morning, Esme.”

“I know. Sara, when Rory comes back, I am going to ask him to send for Paladin and Tina. We can’t wait much longer for that…”

But he was too tired to listen further. As he drifted away into sleep he thought, stupid little hobbit, why did he have to go in there? Why?

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Pippin stirred, coughing. Where was he? Why was it so dark?

Then he remembered. He was so thirsty. His head hurt; his stomach burned, he was so hungry. He tried to sit up, and couldn’t. He felt around him, and touched the roughness of the boards and lathe that had surrounded him.

He coughed again, and then started to cry. He was going to die, here all alone in the dark. He just knew it. What would it be like to die? He thought of Merry, and his parents, all sad because he was gone forever.

He wished he could go back to sleep again, and get away from the horrible thoughts, but now he was afraid if he did he would never wake up again. And he’d be here forever, and no one would ever know.

And what was that sound? Were the rats returning? His terror overcame his despair, but he was too weak to scream.

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It was mid-morning when Merry woke up again. He no longer felt so tired, but he was still horribly discouraged. In just a few hours, it would be two whole days since anyone had seen Pippin. He turned and sat up at the touch of Frodo’s gentle hand upon his shoulder. His cousin held out a mug--it was warm milk, sweetened with honey and cinnamon, and he sipped it gratefully.

“Are you up to continuing, Merry?” Frodo asked softly.

Merry nodded. He got up and went over to where the lamps had been. But they were out of lamps and lanterns, and were now on candles.

Frodo and Saradoc took several unlighted tapers with them, as well as a lighted one apiece, and started in. Merry picked up another bundle and followed. They retraced their steps through the areas that had already been searched, until they came to the darkened tunnels that had not.

Merry took the tapers as they were lit, and found cracks or crannies where he could place them, then would move forward to join his father and cousin once more.

Suddenly Frodo stiffened, and held his candle up. So far they had been needing to open doors to search the rooms, but just ahead-- “Uncle Sara, is that door open?”

Saradoc looked startled. He had been distracted by thinking of the signs of rats he kept coming across. Several times he had heard the animals skittering away as their lights approached. He had held his tongue. It didn’t do to think of little Pippin troubled by rats. And if the thought had not yet crossed Merry’s mind, he was not going to put it there.

The two searchers darted ahead. Merry was trying to place a candle in a crack that was too large. The candle just would not stay upright, and there was no smaller or more suitable spot to wedge it nearby. He saw them speed up, and forgetting about standing the candle in place, he snatched it up to follow.

Half a dozen large rats scattered at the approach of the light, one of them darting past Merry’s foot, startling a cry out of him as it passed.

They heard the whimper, and the slight cough, before they saw him.

“Pip!” Merry cried, dashing into the room past his father and Frodo. All of them held the candles aloft and glanced about the large room. It was large and barren, making it hard to tell from which direction the sounds came.

Then the light from Frodo’s candle caught the edge of the rubble pile.

“M-mer?” came a weak little voice.

“I’m here Pip!” Merry called.

“Pippin, can you come to us, lad?

Frodo’s light finally found the area near the top of the pile. “He can’t move, Uncle Sara--see?”

Two broken boards, leaning against one another over Pippin’s head were supporting a framework of lathes, which were also partially supported by the broken beam. Any sudden movement was likely to dislodge the whole structure down upon Pippin’s head. Even his slight stirring caused one of the boards to shift.

Merry stood there, pale and trembling. They had found him alive, but they couldn’t get to him easily.

“Pippin, be still, dearest!” called Frodo.

Saradoc shifted his candle about, and then picked up another broken board. “If we can wedge this up between the front two boards--”

“--it should support them enough to get him down.” finished Frodo. “Here, let me try.” For it was clear that the pile of dirt and stone would not support Saradoc’s greater weight.

Frodo took the board, and set foot on the edge of the mound of debris. Dirt, stones and small pieces of wood came pelting down. “I’m afraid even my weight is too much,” he said.

“I can do it,” said Merry.

Saradoc looked at his son’s set face, and nodded. “Go ahead. Frodo, don’t hand him the board until he gets up there.”

Very slowly and carefully, Merry began to clamber up; there were splinters of wood and old nails sticking out, and he had to rely on the candles that his father and Frodo were holding. Finally, he was nearly up to where Pippin lay trapped. He planted one foot onto a sizeable piece of rock that seemed to be fairly well lodged in place. He put one end of the board there, holding it in place by the side of his foot, he wedged the other end up between the lathe and the two supporting boards. The whole structure shifted slightly, and he stopped, holding his breath. Carefully, he took his hands away. It held.

Pippin’s eyes glittered in the candlelight, and Merry could see he was pale and bruised. “’m glad you’re--not--a rat,” the lad said breathlessly. He coughed.

“Sshh. So am I. Be still.” With his hands, he broke away part of the lathe, and reaching through the framework, tucked his hands up under Pippin’s armpits and pulled forward. Pippin slid free, but so did everything else.

With gasps of horror, Saradoc and Frodo watched as the whole flimsy stack of debris collapsed. But somehow, Merry, holding firmly to Pippin, skidded down the outside of the falling mass, and rolled to the floor.

A quick check showed that the lads had suffered no more than small abrasions in their fall.

Saradoc took Frodo’s candle. “Frodo, there is plenty of light lining the way back. Take Pippin and go as fast as you may!”

Frodo nodded, and Merry reluctantly let loose his grip on Pippin. With the little Took bundled protectively in his arms, Frodo raced down the tunnel, back the way they had come.

Merry looked up at his father. “We found him,” he whispered.

“We did. I am very proud of you, Merry. You kept your head.”

“I’m so tired, Da.”

“I know, son.” He picked Merry up. “I’m carrying you out.”

Merry had no intention of arguing. He was weary to the bone.

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Rorimac looked at the white face of his daughter-in-law. “All right, Esme, you are right; I will send for your brother now.”

“I know you wanted to wait a bit longer, Rory, but really, Paladin and Tina have the right to know. I hate to send bad tidings as well, but--”

Just then, Frodo burst through the entrance, calling “We have him! And he‘s alive!” Esmeralda turned to see the limp form of her little nephew in Frodo’s arms.

With a glad cry, she reached for him. Heaving for breath, Frodo passed his burden over.

“Dody!” Rory called out to his nephew the healer.

Dodinas, who had been speaking with Merimac turned to see they had found the lost lad. He went over and took Pippin from Esmeralda, and laid him down upon one of the makeshift pallets. He took off the torn and soiled little shirt, and placed his ear to Pippin’s chest. Pippin gave a little cough. Then the healer took his small fingers in his and examined his hands, and pinched the skin on the back of his wrist. Finally, he took off his pendulum--a piece of amber, set in copper wire, and hanging from a cord of leather, and dangled it over the child’s prone form. He breathed a sigh of relief at the calm circular patterns it made in most places.

“We need to get water and nourishment in him right away. Water, juice and broth, a little at a time, but as much as he will take. He has a bit of a rattle in his chest, but it is not deep or settled. I think it mostly a reaction to the moldiness and mustiness of the air in there. As soon as he’s had a bit of water--thank you, Frodo--” he held Pippin up, holding the cup to his lips, as the little one took thirsty sips. “Easy, lad, easy. Not too much at one time, now.” When Pippin had finished drinking, he lay back down. “As I was saying, take him upstairs and give him a warm bath. I want to check his scratches, and put an astringent on them, to avoid infection. I’ll bring a tonic for the cough, as well. Pop him into bed, and start making sure he drinks plenty of nourishing fluids. He is probably going to spend a couple of days a-bed.”

Just then Saradoc and Merry exited the tunnels. Merry hurried over to where Pippin lay.

“Is he going to be all right, Cousin Dody?” he asked anxiously.

Dodinas placed a reassuring hand on Merry’s head. “Yes, Merry-lad, he’s going to be fine.” He looked down at Merry. “You need to take a bath as well. You have some cuts and scrapes too, I see. I’ll tend them also.”

Merry flushed. He had not even noticed them.

Frodo picked Pippin up gently, and he, Esmeralda and Merry headed back up to their own quarters. Saradoc lingered. He wanted to talk to his father about the rats.