CHAPTER 25

The next morning after breakfast, Berilac decreed that another swimming lesson was in order. He, Rolly and Denny coaxed and chivvied their reluctant students down to the beaver pond. Freddy was tired, all of them were, having been up so late to watch and worry over Bergil, but now the child was out of danger, and sleeping. Mistress Poppy and Viola were also finally getting a bit of well-deserved rest this morning. They had agreed that they would have their own lesson with Legolas after luncheon that afternoon.

They arrived at the pond and stripped down to their smalls.

While Rolly and Denny worked with Jolly and Mosco, who both had begun to get the hang of actually swimming, Beri took Freddy a slight distance away.

They repeated some of the exercises of the first lesson, and then Berilac stood back in slightly deeper water.

He held out his hands and taking Freddy’s in his own, said “Now, Freddy, kick!”

This had been the sticking point. Freddy had a hard time with the notion of letting his feet leave the security of the sandy bottom of the pond.

Squinting his face with determination, he flung backwards with his feet, which now flailed wildly splashing everywhere. Still, at least he was not standing on the bottom. In spite of his amusement at the expression on Freddy’s face, Berilac kindly refrained from laughing. “That’s good! Now, don’t kick quite so hard; try not to splash.”

“Sorry,” Freddy spluttered, and his feet slowed down.

“Well,” said Beri encouragingly, “we are getting somewhere at last…”

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Back at the encampment, the two captains were having a conversation.

“This has put us back quite a bit,” said Éothain. “And we shall not be able to hasten when we do get underway, for I feel that the healers will wish us to travel slowly at first, for the boy’s sake.”

“Mistress Poppy indicated that it might be another day or so before she’d even begin to guess when Bergil might travel. I do not know how we will make up the lost time. We shall probably be at least a week longer on the road, perhaps two.”

Éothain nodded. “I agree. I do not grudge the time spent to help the lad heal--we are all fond of him. But I do fear that if we are overlate in arriving at Edoras, the King will be worried.”

Targon nodded. A few days either way was only to be expected, but a week or more would be cause for definite alarm. The King of Rohan would be more than a little concerned if they were that late. And of course, one of the first things he would do would be to inform the High King in Gondor. That would alarm everyone. He pursed his lips and took a deep breath through his nose.

“What do you think we should do?” he asked, deferring to Éothain, as it would be his King in Meduseld they would need to worry about first.

The Rider sat quietly for a few moments, obviously thinking furiously. Finally, he nodded, as though coming to a decision. “I think that what I shall do is send one of my Men ahead--perhaps Leodwald--to inform my lord cousin that we have been delayed, and why. But I think it best to wait upon Mistress Poppy’s verdict on Bergil’s health, so that he will be able to tell Éomer King just *how* much delayed we are.”

Targon nodded. “That sounds like an excellent plan. I can also send written messages to Gondor, and let them know as well of what has occurred. And since Bergil is on the mend, I shall have him send a letter to his father then, so that Beregond may be assured of his son’s health.”

Then he continued. “We’ll be having another problem caused by our delay as well.”

“Stores.”

“Yes. The delay here will cause us to use up a considerable amount of our supplies.”

“There are no more settlements along the Greenway between here and the Gap, are there?”

“No, however they told me in Tharbad that there may be found the occasional isolated homestead, set back off the road. Perhaps we could send a couple of the Men to scout, see if they could purchase some supplies--”

“Danulf,“ said É othain.

“And Adrahil, I think,” said Targon. “And I shall give them coin rather than chits, for I do not believe that any so solitary will be able to make use of the chits.”

“I hope they will be able to find something.”

“As do I. However, I do not wish them to go further than they may return by this time tomorrow.”

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Berilac and Rolly and Denny stood back and watched their pupils, as they tried to swim towards them. It was clear that Freddy and Mosco would probably never be graceful in the water, but they had managed to learn how to propel themselves, how to float, and how to tread water. Jolly was doing quite well--he seemed to be a natural.

Freddy still splashed a great deal more than he needed to, and Mosco found he had to keep moving or he’d start to sink. Fortunately, he’d learned enough to keep from panicking when that started to happen.

Jolly swam right up to the three teachers, a big grin on his face. “Wait until I get home!” he laughed. “I can’t wait to see my Dad’s and Ma’s faces when I tell them I’ve learned how to swim like a Brandybuck!”

Berilac laughed, and clapped him on the back. “We might just have to turn you into a riverhobbit!”

Freddy and Mosco put their feet down as soon as they came to where they could touch the bottom.

“Do you think we know enough yet?” asked Freddy hopefully.

Beri shook his head. “I think perhaps at least one more lesson, to be safe.”

Freddy and Mosco looked at one another in dismay. “Oh.”

“Come now, fellows, it hasn’t been *that* bad, has it?”

The two looked at one another and sighed. Mosco shrugged, and Freddy said grudgingly, “Oh, I suppose not.”

They came up on the bank, to dry off and get dressed, for all of them were very hungry, and Mosco still had to make lunch when they got back.

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Imagine their surprise on arriving at the campsite, to find that for once, lunch had *not* been prepared by a hobbit.

Instead, Gimli had prepared the meal, making up what seemed to be a very thick stew of dried meat and vegetables. He had also made some flatbread on the griddle--but much thinner than what the hobbits were used to. He showed them how to put a scoop full of the stew on the bread and fold it up to eat.

It was very different to what the hobbits were used to, yet they found it tasty enough, and filling, though there was less variety than one would find in a hobbit-cooked meal. Mosco, however, looked at the thickness of the stew with dismay, for he and Berilac were to prepare supper, and it looked as though Gimli had used up a lot of the day’s stores for luncheon. Still, he said nothing; much as he enjoyed cooking, he was grateful not to have to after the exertion of the swimming lesson.

Poppy and Viola had awakened, and had their meal.

Legolas went over to them. “Mistress Poppy, Miss Viola, are you sufficiently rested, that we might go and have the swimming lessons you asked of me?”

Poppy put the last bite of her food into her mouth, and nodded. After a brief moment to swallow, she said “Yes, I think it would be good to go and get it over with, if we can, this afternoon. Bergil is doing well, and getting the rest he needs. His cousin Borondir is watching over him, and can send word if he has a setback.”

Legolas suppressed a smile. Borondir’s relationship to Bergil would hardly have counted at home in Gondor, but the hobbits counted it as quite close indeed. He nodded gravely. “Very well, then Mistress Poppy. I suggest you bring towels and a change of garments with you.”

Poppy blinked, but nodded, and then turned to Viola. “Go and fetch them, dear.” Viola did as instructed, and Poppy rose, and went over to the basin kept for such a purpose, and washed her face and hands.

Berilac had been listening to the conversation with interest, but he sighed. It would have been nice to teach Viola, but he could certainly see Mistress Poppy’s point. Still, even if Legolas *was* the oldest person in the company, he hardly looked it. Legolas caught his eye, and gave him a reassuring smile.

“I shall take very good care of Miss Viola for you, Berilac,” he said quietly, “for I should hate to answer to your cousins if I did not.”

Beri blushed bright red.

Legolas went over to some of the bundles which had been unloaded from the pack animals, and retrieved a spare blanket, which he draped over one arm. He turned to see the two hobbitesses returning, and greeting them with a smile, led them off.

Mosco came over to Berilac, as he stood watching them walk away. “Beri--do you want to fish with Rolly, Denny and Leodwald, or would you rather go foraging with Jolly and I?”

“What’s Freddy up to?” he asked.

“Oh, he’s going to go sit with poor Bergil for a while. I think he wants to talk to him.”

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When they reached the beaver pond, Legolas took the blanket and draped it over the lower limb of one of the alders, so that it hung down and created a little screen. He smiled at Poppy and Viola reassuringly.

“If you ladies would care to attire yourselves for the lesson?” He was trying to be as gentle as he possibly could. He was very well aware of hobbit sensibilities about certain things after the time he had spent in the Shire.

Poppy nodded, and Viola blushed. They went behind the blanket for a few moments and removed their outer garments. When they emerged a few minutes later attired only in their shifts, their eyes went wide to see that Legolas had removed his tunic and boots.

He stood at the edge of the water, and held a hand out to either side.

“Shall we?”

Viola took his hand trustingly, and after a moment’s hesitation, during which her face went white, so did Poppy. The healer had agreed to this as being a reasonable issue of safety, but now it came to actually entering the water, she felt a good deal of trepidation. For the first time since leaving the Shire, she felt her age.

“Perhaps,” she said tremulously, “I am too old to learn such tricks.”

Legolas twitched a smile at her. “You most assuredly are not too old, my child,” he said.

Startled, she looked up at him, and then giving a weak chuckle, she took his hand, and allowed him to lead them into the water.

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Freddy had assisted Gimli with the clean-up after lunch, and then had taken a few words with the captains. He nodded at their decision to send two of the Men scouting for extra supplies--it was something he had been wondering about himself. Reassured, he watched them send the two Men off on their errand, and then turned to the tent where Bergil was.

He wanted to see and talk to the child.

Borondir was sitting by Bergil, telling him a story of some mischief he had been into himself as a boy. Bergil was sitting propped up by means of a pack padded with a blanket, placed at his back, and was sipping at some tea--one of his medicines, by the herbal smell of it.

The child was pale, and had circles of weariness beneath his eyes, but his expression was alert, and he smiled to see Freddy.

“Hullo Bergil, Borondir.”

“Hullo, Mr. Freddy!” replied Bergil. The Man nodded pleasantly.

“Borondir, I would be glad to stay with Bergil for a while. I--I wished to talk to him.”

“Certainly, Master Fredegar.” He stood, and then bent down to ruffled Bergil’s head. “I will see you later,” he said, and went out.

Freddy sat down beside Bergil, who gave him a puzzled look.

“Is something the matter, Mr. Freddy?”

Freddy smiled. “Not now. But we were very worried about you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault. Anyway, I am very glad you are going to get well. And I have something for you. Close your eyes.”

Bergil did so, surprising himself with how easy it was to close them and want to keep them closed. He had slept for hours; he shouldn’t still be tired, he thought. Then he felt Freddy placing something in his hand.

“Open your eyes.”

Bergil looked down at the object in his hand, and his jaw dropped. “But--but--Mr. Freddy! That’s--”

“That’s Folco’s flute, lad. I want you to have it.”