Frodo blundered through the dense, opaque gray fog towards distant voices calling his name: "Frodo, Hoy! Frodo!"
Suddenly the calls changed to shrill cries of "Help! Help!". He tried to run towards them, struggling up the steep slope, frantically shouting his friends' names until his breath gave out. Then a high, horrible, unHobbitlike scream froze the blood in his veins and stopped him in his tracks. It was followed by a second scream and then a third. And finally, after a long terrible silence while the fog darkened around him, another cry of "Frodo!"
"Here! I'm coming!" weak with relief he finished scrambling up the steep side of the down and staggered towards the voices.
"Frodo! Mr. Frodo!" Sam materialized out of the thining fog and they fell into each others arms.
"Sam! Sam, what happened?"
Before he could answer Sam was displaced by Merry and Pippin, hugging their cousin in passionate relief and both taking at once.
Merry: "Where did you go?"
Pippin: "All of a sudden you were just gone!"
Merry: "Really Frodo you must be more careful!"
Pippin: "What if you had run into the Barrow Wights too?"
"Barrow Wights!" Frodo gaped. The fog had thinned to a few drifting whisps, the stars shone bright overhead giving enough light for Frodo to see a tall, cloaked figure looming up behind his friends. He gasped in horror tried to shove Pippin behind him.
"No, no, it's all right Mr. Frodo." Sam reassured quickly.
"I am no Wight." the figure said with a note of amusement in her voice.
"This is Miss Lightfoot," Sam explained, "She rescued us."
Frodo blinked. What was a Woman of the Big Folk doing out on the Downs?
"What brings four Hobbits out of the Shire and onto the Barrow Downs?" she asked almost like an echo of his thought.
"We..we were making for Bree."
"You would have done better to stay on the road."
"We weren't on the road, we were taking a short cut." Frodo stammered.
"That was unwise." she said coolly. Her head turned sharply in response to something the Hobbits could not hear or sense. "As is staying out on the Downs at night, even for me." She unslung the bow she carried over her shoulder and nocked an arrow. "This way." ***
The shelter the Woman brought them to looked uncomfortably like a barrow, walled with great stones and roofed with a mound of turf.
She lit a lamp on a stand next to the door, then crossed the long, stone floored oval room to light a second on a cupboard at the far end. six cots, three to a side, stood with their heads to the wall and piles of neatly folded blankets at their feet. They looked enormously long, nearly long enough for two Hobbits lying head to foot. Wood was stacked next to a raised slab between two stone plinths supporting the roof with fuel for a fire laid ready upon it. Lightfoot lit this too and turned to face her guests, still huddled by the door.
"Come in."
The Hobbits, moving as a clump, took a few uncertain steps farther into the room. Frodo had seen only three other Big People in his life; Gandalf, Tom Bombadil and his wife. But Lightfoot was taller than any of them and far more beautiful than Goldberry. Tom's wife had been like one of her pretty lilies this Woman made Frodo think confusedly of sleander white trees and stars glittering high above the mists. Her bright eyes reminded him of Elves.
She put back her hood and took off her long green cloak revealing black hair plaited and coiled around her head, a calf length coat of worn dark green leather laced closed and divided for riding like the skirt beneath it and a long, narrow sword belted around her waist. She did that off as well and laid it with her cloak on one of the cots.
"Is-isn't this a barrow?" Pippin quavered.
"It was meant to be one," she agreed calmly, "but abandoned unfinished for some reason. My people have used it as a guard post since the days of the Witch Wars. Are you hungry?"
A question Hobbits rarely answer with a no and one well calculated to raise their spirits. There was a table and several stools between the hearth and the cupboard, as oversized as the cots and clearly made for very Big People indeed. The food was rather disappointing; rolls of dried meat, flat hard bread, and dried apples and pears. But there was also a cordial Lighfoot poured from a leather flask, gold colored and tasting of honey and apricot that filled the Hobbits with warmth from top to toe and wiped away their fears.
Frodo even felt brave enough to ask about the Barrow Wights. "In the Shire it is said they are the ghosts of the ancient folk buried in the mounds."
The Woman's eyes flashed alarmingly but her voice was clear and calm as she answered. "That is not true. These are the graves of my ancestors. Some are from the time of the Kings but others are far older, from the Elder Days before Men entered Beleriand to join the High Elves in their war against the Great Enemy. The Souls of those buried in them have long since passed into the West and beyond the Circles of the World.
"The Wights are evil spirits out of the Witch Kingdom who cloth themselves in the bones and garments of the ancient dead. My kinsmen and I avenge that descecration when we may, but there are many other dangers in the Wild these days now Sauron has returned."
Frodo swallowed. "So we have heard. We were warned to stay off the road."
"No doubt your advisor had good reason for his words, but friends as well as enemies watch the roads out of the Shire. In any case I doubt he meant for you to try to cross the Barrow Downs so close to nightfall."
All four Hobbits blushed. "We fell asleep," Merry admitted shamefacedly, "when we stopped for lunch, and didn't wake til near sundown."
Lightfoot nodded as if that was to be expected. "It is best not to stop or rest in the Downs unless in some protected place like this. Even in daylight they are not truly safe."
"If I might ask, ma'am, what were *you* doing out here all alone if it's so dangerous?" Sam reddened to the ears as the bright eyes turned his way but met them stoutly.
"The Downs lie on my path homeward." she answered mildly, apparently unoffended. "And I am armed and on my guard against Wightish spells." she stood up. "Try to get some sleep. As I said this place is defended, the Wights cannot enter here."
"Like Tom Bombadil's house." said Merry.
Lightfoot shook her head. "Not so strongly protected as that - but sufficient for Wights and their like." (1) she turned towards the lamp on the cupboard.
"Don't blow it out!" Merry, Pippin and Sam cried all together.
She smiled at them, quite gently. "I wasn't going to." her eyes turned to Frodo. "Light and fire are the best defense against wraiths."
Like Black Riders? Suddenly he was sure Lightfoot knew more about them than she was letting on - maybe even everything. His hand went involuntarily to the pocket holding the Ring but he felt no desire to bring it out - quite the opposit. Almost as if the Ring didn't want Lightfoot to see it. ***********************************************
1. The 'protection' on the Ranger Shelter needs a stong and practiced will behind it to be most effective, just as defensive walls need warriors behind them to repel foes. If the Hobbits were alone they would not be safe even in the shelter.
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