Chapter 118. We have a council

We are all very weary indeed when Our Big Man calls a halt. We have travelled instead of resting through this day. It seems odd to me, after so many days of travelling in the dark and resting during daylight to avoid the spying birds or other enemies seeing our passage. But That cannot be helped now, as Tall Hat said when we left the flat shelf where our troubles with snow first began.

The wind blew cold as we stumbled down the slope, ah, hours ago it was! ...not yet noon, and we have walked the daylight through, and now the grey light is waning fast. With night falling, I have no illusions that the cold wind will blow any warmer. I am glad for my shaggy coat and fur-tufted ears, but I worry for my hobbits. They stopped shivering soon after we fell into a steady walking rhythm, once we were no longer struggling through snow, but if we are stopping, they will no longer be warmed by the exercise.

However, Tall Hat brings out the small bottle of cheer, “a mouthful apiece”, that he provided when we were high upon the side of the Mountain and the snows threatened to bury us and the Other Big Man (the one with the shield) warned Tall Hat that it would be the death of the Halflings.

I quickly sample the scents wafting from my hobbits, then sigh in relief. None of them smells as if he might be close to death.

Sadly, this time, there is no warming stuff for me to lick from the wizard’s palm, and I think about the Fair One passing the small bottle to the Dwarf first, after my hobbits had a mouthful each, and the Dwarf protesting that only one mouthful remained!

...but the Fair One had already melted into the darkness, murmuring something about taking the first turn at watching, before the Dwarf had even had the chance to shake the bottle to gauge the contents, that he might know how much to sip in order to leave something for the Wood Elf. 

‘Drink,’ Tall Hat tells him. ‘You’ll need it more than he does.’

The Dwarf bristles... and then he drinks.

The drink must be as warming as I remember, I think, for even though we have halted, and the wind blows cold... and colder... my hobbits have not yet started shivering. As a matter of fact, I hear them speaking with unforced cheer as they munch on the food my Sam has distributed, having seemingly gained some energy from his mouthful of the stuff. Yet I deem they are too weary to continue walking through the darkness. Even the movements of the Big Men are heavy, as if they are weighted down already without taking on the burden of carrying hobbits along on their backs – one apiece for the two Big Men, the Fair One, and myself, would seem to make the most sense. My legs, too, are heavy, and I cannot seem to help my head drooping as I listen to the soft conversation of my companions.

But it seems we will remain here for a time, at least some time to rest, if not the entire night, for Tall Hat calls a council, and the Party gathers together. Yes, even the Fair One comes in from the darkness, accepts his packet of food from my Samwise, and dines quietly as he listens, though he stands a little apart from the others as if listening both to the discussion and the nightly noises in the darkness that surrounds us. I swivel one ear forward and the other back to follow suit.

I am relieved to hear that we cannot go on again tonight, and I can smell varying degrees of relief from my hobbits. 

Master, I think, is impatient to go on, weary as he may be. I think I am right in this impression, for his first question concerns where we are to go when we have finished resting.

I lift my head and prick my ears forward, forgetting the nightly noises behind me, on hearing the mention of the blessed Valley, and my hobbits seem equally hopeful – no. Not all my hobbits.

Alas, poor Master. He, too, would gladly go back – but that way lies shame and defeat. And Tall Hat agrees. 

Does this mean he will send the other three Hobbits back to the Valley? I do not think my Sam would follow any such command. Thinking of my Sam and disobedience together in the same thought is difficult, if not impossible, and I shake my head to clear it.

‘Steady, Bill,’ my Sam says at once with a soothing pat, and I rub my face against him.

But I have missed some of the conversation. I lay my ears back at the smell of dread that permeates the air, not only from my hobbits but from the two Big Men – and even the Fair One! Only the Dwarf seems to agree with whatever it is Tall Hat is recommending. 

And now a vote of some sort seems to be happening. I know what voting is; I have seen such a thing more than once from hobbits picnicking in our pasture, and my dam explained to me what we were witnessing. Of course, those hobbits were voting on pleasant things, such as Should we lay out the picnic cloth here, and enjoy the warmth of the Sun? Who votes for the shady spot under the trees by the stream?

This vote sounds grim and fills me with foreboding. Only the Dwarf sounds eager. Though Our Big Man votes yes for whatever it is we are voting for – my companions are voting for, that is, for I know too little to nod or shake my head and choose to stand very still and listen and try to understand – his response confuses me, for though he says he will follow Tall Hat, if I did not hear his words clearly, I would take from his tone that he is actually saying no.

I start to shake my head, though I am not adding my vote – and I dearly hope my companions do not take it as such, for I understand too little of the current talk, and if my vote were to be taken as the deciding factor, why... I shake my head again at such whimsy, and immediately worry that my companions will take my response as my having strong feelings about the matter. And so I force myself to hold absolutely still, even to holding my breath, which is not something ponies or horses are wont to do, I must say.

I let my pent-up breath out again in a soft, prolonged snort on hearing the Master say he does not wish to go, but neither does he wish to refuse Tall Hat’s advice. Rather, he wishes to sleep, and then vote.

Perhaps this is the best course to take.

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Author notes:

Some thoughts here are derived from “A Journey in the Dark” from The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien.

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