Chapter 7

Boromir tramped his way forward to join the wizard and the Ranger.  “Gandalf,” he began, “Pippin and the other little ones –“

“We see them, Boromir,”  Gandalf cut him off, then grimaced an apology.  “We cannot carry them; it is too draining on our own strength.  We cannot alternate them on Bill; the poor pony is overburdened as it is.  I am at a loss.”  As he spoke, he batted at the sides of his mouth, rubbing out the ice crystals that were forming there from his warm breath in his beard.

“In Gondor,” the soldier began, “there is a game the children play in winter.  They lay upon pieces of wood riveted to metal runners, and use this device to slide down hills at great speed.”  The man smiled, for the moment lost in old memories.  “I played so myself as a child.  It is marvelous fun.”

“A sled,” Gandalf said.  Both the wizard and the Ranger nodded; the toy was known to them.  “That would certainly be useful.  But we have no planks of wood, no runners, no –“

“We have my shield.”  Boromir grinned, laughter in his eyes.  “Did I turn it over and tie a length to the arm-grip, I could easily pull one or two halflings seated upon it.  The little ones could rest and still move along at speed.”

Aragorn chortled.  “A most excellent idea!”  His dark eyes returned to the exhausted hobbits, huddled and shivering in the deep snow.  “And most needed.   Come, Boromir.  Let us explain your idea to the halflings.”

Upon having Boromir’s plan described to them, the hobbits regarded the improvised sled doubtfully.  It took several tries to discern the optimum method of travel; the first try, Merry and Pippin sat side by side on the shield as Boromir pulled.  The shield up-ended and dumped them both backwards into the snow.  After more experimentation (and spills), they discovered if the hobbits sat in opposite directions, one hand on the arm-grip, their weight was evenly distributed and the shield slid easily over the snow.  After their initial apprehension, they enjoyed this method of travel immensely and all of the hobbits were able to take turns resting as the Company continued their trek.

At their next halt, the hobbits had recovered their strength sufficiently to want to play with this fascinating new entertainment.  Boromir obliged them by holding on to the leather strap commandeered as a length and spinning in place until he was quite dizzy.  Like children, the four laughed and shrieked as they took turns shooting around him in an ever-quickening circle, until they lost their hold on the arm-grip and slid off into the snow.  Sam was so wobbly, he had to sit in the snow for some time after his turn.  To all the Big Folk’s surprise (but the wizard, who had known him long), it was the Ring-bearer who most enjoyed the play.  Frodo hung on to the arm-grip with grim determination, his dark curls whipping about his flushed face, urging the spinner on to ever-faster efforts.  Those beautiful eyes shone with delight. 

When Boromir needed to stop, Gimli surprised them all by volunteering.  With his center of gravity closer to the ground and his enormous strength, the dwarf was able to twirl them around faster than the man.  The hobbits were ecstatic, and Gandalf regretted calling a halt to their play and hushing them when they grew too loud.  More than providing the hobbits needed respite, Gandalf was glad that the play allowed the Ring-bearer to forget, for however short a time, the burden that burned with cold against his skin.

The mid-day halt was a short one, fireless and cold.  The tree-line had thinned out, and the few trees they saw were twisted and stunted.  There was no cover, only long vistas of snow and rock.  Gandalf feared he had let the hobbits play too long, and that their giggles and cries might have drawn unwanted attention to the Company.  They saw no change in their surroundings, no stealthy movement in the snow or calls from far-away, yet suddenly the mountain seemed aware of them again.  It was as if the landscape watched.  The Company found themselves drawing closer together, talking in soft whispers, and Legolas now took the watch and kept it.  The elf turned constantly where he stood at the edge of the Company, shading his eyes with his hand against the intense glare, his clear far-seeing eyes never still.  Instead of their usual brief nap, Gandalf and Aragorn urged the others to finish their rations as quickly as they could and resume the march away from this cold, exposed place.

The knowledge that they could rest when they needed to seemed to afford the hobbits greater strength and they grew quite adept at changing places without requiring the walkers to halt.  A quick roll off the shield and a quick dive on, and the change was accomplished.  Frodo replaced Merry on the shield, knees drawn up and one hand fastened to the arm-grip between them, freeing the other to rub off the little balls of ice that had accumulated in the hair on his large feet.  Some of the hair was inevitably pulled out, and Boromir, walking ahead, grinned to hear the muttered exclamations behind him.

The terrain was becoming rougher, more steep.  Boromir was inclining his body forward now, and was pulling with both hands and the strap over his shoulder.  The hobbits foresaw the end of their easy rides.  Having regained his wind, Frodo was about to roll off when the leather length snapped.  It did not ravel or fray; it snapped in one instantaneous moment.  Frodo threw himself forward and his hands grasped the rim of the shield as Boromir turned, puzzled by the sudden cessation of the dragging weight.  The shield started sliding backwards, down the steep hill Boromir had been struggling up.  Sam made some inarticulate cry.  Frodo made no sound at all as he tried to toss himself off, but the shield began to spin like a saucer, round and round, and the hobbit could find no purchase.  Boromir threw himself forward, hands reaching for the shield.  Frodo’s eyes raised to his, his face terrified but silent.  Then the shield was picking up speed, coasting backwards down the hill.   In the space between one heartbeat and the next, the hobbit was out of sight.

The force of Boromir’s leap had carried him several feet forward in the snow.  The leather strap remained in his hand, and his eyes took in the worn end, broken where it would have been tied around the arm-grip.  Where the strap would have taken the shield and its passengers’ weight as it whirled around and around.  The leather strap dangled in his hand limply, a faint wind fluttering its end.

“Where is he?  I don’t see ‘im!”  Sam ran to the edge of the incline, staring down.  He struggled down a few feet, then lost his balance and fell, sprawling in the cushioning snow.  The hobbit looked back at the shocked Company over his shoulder.  “Well, aren’t you lot coming?  We’ve got ‘ta go get him!”

Gandalf strode down to the prone hobbit, digging his staff in the snow to steady himself.  He lifted Sam easily to his feet.  “And we will, Samwise.  But not blindly, not in panic.”  He turned to the Elf, who had moved up with Aragorn and so was too far from the hobbit to catch him, even with elven speed.  “Legolas, you are the swiftest among us.  Will you go and fetch him back?”

“Of course, Gandalf.  Sam, do not fear.  Frodo and I will return shortly.”  The elf leaped lightly upon the unbroken snow, his light boots making almost no imprint in the fine powder.

“Wait!”  Aragorn ran forward to join them, spare blankets in his arms.  “Take these.  And this.”  To the blankets, he added a first-aid kit.  Pippin’s eyes grew large and he pushed himself up against Merry.  “Just in case, Pippin,” the Ranger reassured him.  “Once he got over his scare, your cousin probably enjoyed the ride.  I shouldn’t wonder if he won’t want to do it again.”  The quick smile he gave the halfling was not echoed in his eyes as he looked over Pippin’s head to the wizard and the elf.

Putting his head close to the other two, Aragorn murmured, “Legolas, bring him back quickly.  It is growing colder rapidly.  It was not so many days ago that he was ill.”  Sam, standing before Gandalf with the wizard’s hand still on his shoulder, looked up at him anxiously.  The Ranger turned his head to look down at the ploughed furrow in the snow and smiled, despite his worries.  “At least you have a clear trail.  It will not, I think, tax your tracking skills too greatly.”

The Elf awarded him a look of mock distain.  “I think I shall manage, Aragorn.  Gandalf, Samwise, we will return in but a few minutes.”  With that, the elf leaped lightly past Gandalf and Sam, and was off down the steep hill with almost as much speed as the shield.

Aragorn climbed over to Boromir, who was still fingering the broken strap and staring after the hobbit.  He laid a hand on the soldier’s shoulder and was surprised to feel him start.  Before he could speak, Boromir said in a soft, strained voice, “I should have of watched the length.  Of course I should have watched it!  Any fool knows that strips of over-stressed leather breaks.”

Aragorn regarded him with some dismay.  “No one blames you, Boromir, and I will not allow you to blame yourself.  It was an accident.  None of us thought to keep an eye on the strap – none of us.”  His eyes turned to the distant, fast-moving figure of the elf.  “It is time we rested anyway.  Gandalf, we would be all less visible if we halted below the crest of this hill.  Sam, will you lead Bill down?  Pippin –“ the youngster did not notice him and the Ranger wondered if he was remembering being separated from the Company and lost a few days earlier.  “Pippin?  Pippin!”

Merry shook his cousin gently and jerked his head towards Aragorn.  Blushing at his inattention, the young hobbit tore his gaze from the slope and faced the Ranger.  “Pippin,” continued Aragorn more gently, “would you and Merry break out some firewood and prepare a fire, in case it is needed?  Do not light it yet; I am hoping that they will return quickly and we can move on to find a more sheltered campsite before night.  But Frodo may be in need of warming immediately.”

Boromir moved forward and placed a hand on each halfling’s curly heads.  “Come, you two.  I will lift down a bundle of wood for you.”  The three climbed carefully down the slope to where Sam was fastening a nose-bag to Bill’s headstall.  Gandalf returned to Aragorn’s side and the more expansive view from the crest of the hill.  Gimli joined them there, rubbing his eyes against the blinding brightness of sun-glare, which was causing all of their eyes to tear and blur the monochromatic landscape.

* TBC *