Setting the Captives Free Chapter Three by Pippinfan
Chapter Three...
Chapter Three
When the Sun had chased the Moon over the western horizon, She shone pale, but warm, which promised an afternoon of another temperate day. The company broke their fast with bread, strips of dried beef, and water from a nearby stream. Pippin packed his gear and readied his pony for the last stretch of their journey. Nearby, a conversation took place between a couple of the accompanying lads.
“Sam’s done a fine job o’ spreadin’ the victuals round to everyone,” said one hobbit, “but we’re runnin’ low.”
“I hope we find some food when we get there,” replied the other. “The Chief’s Men did a lot o’ gatherin’, but very little sharin’.”
“Aye,” agreed the first hobbit. “I heard there’re cellars full o’ the Shire’s harvest hidden away there.”
“We’ll look for any food hidden after we’ve opened the Lockholes and have seen to the hobbits inside,” Merry interrupted the exchange, firmly ensuring their first priority was people then food. “Right now, we probably have more in our bellies than they do. Consider this - unless one or two stubborn Men have foolishly returned to their post or stayed behind, then who’s been feeding the prisoners?” Merry’s words quelled any further outbursts about the lack of rations.
Sam quickly stowed his cooking pans and put out the campfire. He called to the hobbits helping him, “Let’s finish our business here and move on!”
When he heard Merry’s words, Pippin’s heart fell to his toes, his knees almost buckling beneath him before he could get his foot into the stirrup. Speechless, he looked over to his cousin who caught his gaze. Pippin mouthed to him, “Fredegar!” Likewise, Merry silently gave a nod in response to Pippin and then set about saddling his own pony.
“We have to hurry!” Pippin beseeched his cousin. “We must rescue Fatty!”
“And so we are,” Frodo put in, having overheard Pippin. His eyes overlooked the meadows nearby. “The grass is still green here, so I’d say that these ponies have more in their bellies than we do at this point. Most of the journey is behind us; I agree that we should make haste. The prisoners have probably been without water, too.”
Nothing further needed to be said; everyone quickly finished last minute tasks and then climbed into their saddles.
Hours later, the Sun was at her zenith when Michel Delving came into view a long way up the road. A sudden urgency came upon the Travellers and company; they urged their mounts to a faster pace. The last few miles lay ahead as did their mission. Soon, thundering hooves roared in Pippin’s ears as they galloped towards the town. His Tookish determination focussed on only one thing: to save Fredegar. As they neared the outskirts of town the company slowed to a trot. There was a crowd of hobbits standing in front of the Town Hall.
“Ho, there!” Pippin heard a hobbit call out to them; an elder hobbit who appeared to be the leader of the small gathering. “Are ye new shirrifs sent by the Chief t’ keep order?”
Pippin and Merry were first to slide out of their saddles and walk towards the group. “No, we are not,” replied Merry. The town-hobbits stood back when they saw the two taller hobbits advance toward them dressed in exotic finery from foreign parts. Merry continued, “We’re hobbits like you, most of us from Hobbiton and Bywater, and we’re here to tell you that the Ruffians have were overthrown the day before last and we’re here to open the gates of this prison to set free those left inside.”
Hobbits like them? Not one town-hobbit moved. The two advancing hobbits could have easily been diminutive Men sent to “keep the peace”, as they would often put it. The town-hobbits were used to trickery and lies and therefore did not trust these newcomers.
Frodo dismounted to stand beside Merry and Pippin. “He is telling the truth,” he announced. “Please stand aside or give us aid.” Ponies and hobbits filled the empty town square as various riddles began to unravel.
“Name’s Tate,” said the leader, still not quite sure if he should offer his hand in friendship yet. “If ye’re from Hobbiton or Bywater, then how did ye get all the way here without gettin’ caught by the Chief’s Men?”
Pippin replied, “Do we look as if we’re footpads belonging to the Chief? My cousin has told you that Lotho’s Men were defeated two days ago and are now scattered and pursued to the borders. We’re here because there are hobbits locked up inside the old storage tunnels and we mean to get them out with your help or no.”
Tate addressed the rescuers, feeling convinced that the new group of hobbits didn’t pose a new threat. “I mean t’ help ye,” he said, then the rest of his group made the same pledge.
Continued...
Chapter Three
When the Sun had chased the Moon over the western horizon, She shone pale, but warm, which promised an afternoon of another temperate day. The company broke their fast with bread, strips of dried beef, and water from a nearby stream. Pippin packed his gear and readied his pony for the last stretch of their journey. Nearby, a conversation took place between a couple of the accompanying lads.
“Sam’s done a fine job o’ spreadin’ the victuals round to everyone,” said one hobbit, “but we’re runnin’ low.”
“I hope we find some food when we get there,” replied the other. “The Chief’s Men did a lot o’ gatherin’, but very little sharin’.”
“Aye,” agreed the first hobbit. “I heard there’re cellars full o’ the Shire’s harvest hidden away there.”
“We’ll look for any food hidden after we’ve opened the Lockholes and have seen to the hobbits inside,” Merry interrupted the exchange, firmly ensuring their first priority was people then food. “Right now, we probably have more in our bellies than they do. Consider this - unless one or two stubborn Men have foolishly returned to their post or stayed behind, then who’s been feeding the prisoners?” Merry’s words quelled any further outbursts about the lack of rations.
Sam quickly stowed his cooking pans and put out the campfire. He called to the hobbits helping him, “Let’s finish our business here and move on!”
When he heard Merry’s words, Pippin’s heart fell to his toes, his knees almost buckling beneath him before he could get his foot into the stirrup. Speechless, he looked over to his cousin who caught his gaze. Pippin mouthed to him, “Fredegar!” Likewise, Merry silently gave a nod in response to Pippin and then set about saddling his own pony.
“We have to hurry!” Pippin beseeched his cousin. “We must rescue Fatty!”
“And so we are,” Frodo put in, having overheard Pippin. His eyes overlooked the meadows nearby. “The grass is still green here, so I’d say that these ponies have more in their bellies than we do at this point. Most of the journey is behind us; I agree that we should make haste. The prisoners have probably been without water, too.”
Nothing further needed to be said; everyone quickly finished last minute tasks and then climbed into their saddles.
Hours later, the Sun was at her zenith when Michel Delving came into view a long way up the road. A sudden urgency came upon the Travellers and company; they urged their mounts to a faster pace. The last few miles lay ahead as did their mission. Soon, thundering hooves roared in Pippin’s ears as they galloped towards the town. His Tookish determination focussed on only one thing: to save Fredegar. As they neared the outskirts of town the company slowed to a trot. There was a crowd of hobbits standing in front of the Town Hall.
“Ho, there!” Pippin heard a hobbit call out to them; an elder hobbit who appeared to be the leader of the small gathering. “Are ye new shirrifs sent by the Chief t’ keep order?”
Pippin and Merry were first to slide out of their saddles and walk towards the group. “No, we are not,” replied Merry. The town-hobbits stood back when they saw the two taller hobbits advance toward them dressed in exotic finery from foreign parts. Merry continued, “We’re hobbits like you, most of us from Hobbiton and Bywater, and we’re here to tell you that the Ruffians have were overthrown the day before last and we’re here to open the gates of this prison to set free those left inside.”
Hobbits like them? Not one town-hobbit moved. The two advancing hobbits could have easily been diminutive Men sent to “keep the peace”, as they would often put it. The town-hobbits were used to trickery and lies and therefore did not trust these newcomers.
Frodo dismounted to stand beside Merry and Pippin. “He is telling the truth,” he announced. “Please stand aside or give us aid.” Ponies and hobbits filled the empty town square as various riddles began to unravel.
“Name’s Tate,” said the leader, still not quite sure if he should offer his hand in friendship yet. “If ye’re from Hobbiton or Bywater, then how did ye get all the way here without gettin’ caught by the Chief’s Men?”
Pippin replied, “Do we look as if we’re footpads belonging to the Chief? My cousin has told you that Lotho’s Men were defeated two days ago and are now scattered and pursued to the borders. We’re here because there are hobbits locked up inside the old storage tunnels and we mean to get them out with your help or no.”
Tate addressed the rescuers, feeling convinced that the new group of hobbits didn’t pose a new threat. “I mean t’ help ye,” he said, then the rest of his group made the same pledge.
Continued...