AT YOUR SERVICE

 

'Well Masters,' said Nob, 'I've ruffled up the clothes and put in a bolster down the middle of each bed. And I made a nice imitation of your head with a brown woollen mat, Mr. Bag - Underhill, sir,' he added with a grin.

Pippin laughed. 'Very life-like!' he said. 'But what will happen when they have penetrated the disguise?'

'We shall see,' said Strider. 'Let us hope to hold the fort till morning.'

'Good night to you,' said Nob, and went off to take his part in the watch on the doors.

‘Strider’, The Fellowship of the Ring

Nob drove the small waggon north from Stock, humming a tune. He had picked up all the bundles of pipeweed that the Pony needed, and at a good price, but was glad to be homeward bound. At last he reached the turnoff to the Brandywine and crossed over the Bridge, daydreaming about roasts and pickles (and what a lovely ale The Golden Perch in Stock always had on hand). Suddenly, a curious sight among the ancient trees on the east bank made him gasp, then stop the horses with a frightened flick of the reins.

A small village of pavilions and waving flags had sprouted out of the grass! None of this had been here a week ago! Was it magicked up by some wizard? It had been a long time since the Troubles, and as he sat staring, frightened by the strangely-dressed Big Folk roaming about and uncertain whether or not to turn back and sound the alarm, or hide somewhere until the apparitions vanished, someone called his name and waved in a friendly manner. Nob found himself grinning as the tall Man walked across the grass towards his waggon. There was no mistaking that long stride, even after all these years.

“Strider!” Nob exclaimed as Aragorn reached him. The hobbit saw that he was dressed real nice, and smiled in a more relaxed manner than he had ever seen the grim Ranger manage before.

“It’s good to see you again,” Nob said earnestly. “Why, you look just fine.”

“Thank you, Master Nob.” Aragorn saw a sudden glint of tears in the hobbit’s eyes. “What is the matter?”

“We needed you, Strider,” Nob whispered. “You went away, and all the Rangers with you. Where did you go?”

“I regret we were not here to render aid when danger threatened,” Aragorn said gently. “I was needed elsewhere, and my men as well, to fight a hard battle in the South against a desperate foe.”

“I understand,” Nob said, although he didn’t, not really. “Everything’s better now. We’ve not seen any ruffians since Captains Brandybuck and Took, that is, Master Merry and Thain Peregrin now, set everything to rights.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Aragorn said gravely. “My friend, when you and your family remember those hard times, and toast Captains Brandybuck and Took, raise a glass as well to Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee. You would not be free to travel this road, this land... indeed, this Middle-earth... had they not achieved a mighty task that will be sung about when our children’s children have come and gone. Will you do that for me?”

“I promise,” Nob said, quite overcome with all the questions bumping together in his mind. He listened to local gossip, of course, but had discounted as fanciful most of the strange stories circulating about the Travellers. Mayor Gamgee and that Mister Baggins, sung about by Big Folk? But he was distracted by something Strider was saying.

“I am delighted to see you, Master Nob,” Aragorn said. “I have wished to thank you for your past service.”

“My... my service?” Nob asked hoarsely.

“Indeed,” Aragorn said. “You set forth after dark on that fearful night, found Merry Brandybuck, and brought him back to us; you helped divert the Black Riders’ attention from Mr. Baggins and his company; and I know that you gave up a well-earned night’s sleep to keep watch over the inn, and all of us.”

“You remember all that?” Nob asked. “I just did my job, sir.”

“That is all anyone can do,” Aragorn said gently. He took the hobbit’s hand and laid two large coins in it – one silver, and one gold. Nob gasped in amazement.

“For me, Strider? Th… thank you,” Nob stuttered. “I’ve never had this much money in my hand since... why, ever! Did you find treasure out there Beyond?”

“I did indeed,” Aragorn said with a smile. “All the treasure I could want, and more. Are you hungry, Nob? Or did you stock up on provisions at the Perch?”

“I did!” Nob laughed.

“I never doubted it. You are welcome to camp with us if you have time. Merry, Pippin, Sam, and their families are meeting us here in a few days. I know they’d be as happy to see you again as I am.”

“I’d like to stay, Strider, but I’m still quite a distance from Bree, and my wife is due to have our third child right soon.” Nob’s face was so joyful, Aragorn felt his heart warm.

“Congratulations, my friend. I am delighted to know that you are well and happy. Please convey my greetings to your wife. And Nob, should you ever be in need, have a letter sent to me. Any Ranger you see will know where I can be reached.”

“I will,” Nob said earnestly. “Thank you again for sharing your treasure with me. With another little one coming... well, I surely can use the extra coin. It was awful good to see you, sir. I’d best get going.”

Aragorn reached out and touched his brow for a moment, then smiled and walked away.

Nob flicked the reins lightly to start the ponies walking again. As he left the pavilions behind, he realized that he was still grasping the heavy coins. He opened his hand and looked at them. There was a tree on one side that resembled the banners flying over Strider’s encampment. And on the other side... Could that possibly be Strider, and next to him one of the beautiful ladies he had spied near one of the tents? Barliman had said something, years ago, about Strider living in a castle and drinking wine out of golden cups, but who had believed such a thing?

The hobbit laughed, and tucked the precious coins into a deep pocket. Just a coincidence, he thought. Still, if the King ever does come back, I hope he’s like Strider. That would be truly wonderful. 

As he rode on, he realized that the warm and peaceful feeling Strider’s touch had given him had not faded, and soon his quiet humming became a glad song, enlaced with words in an ancient tongue he had never before heard nor spoken.

* END *