Chapter 58. To Beg Aid of the King

As they passed through the North Gate of Buckland, the party of hobbits saw, as usual, the tall horses of the King's guard waiting by the Bridge. The riders swung down from their horses, and one walked ahead of the others, long legs eating up the distance between the two groups.

'Strider,' Pippin said as he reached them, not a delighted shout this time. Looking closely, the King could see the Thain's face was strained, his son Faramir wore no expression, and Sam looked as if he chewed upon a bitter morsel that he could not stomach, much less swallow.

'Has something happened to Merry?' Elessar asked.

'No,' Pippin said, then, 'Well, yes. He is not well, Strider, but we hope he will be better soon. May I introduce his cousin Merimas, who has come to represent him.' Merimas bowed to the King, and Pippin fell silent. Elessar could see that this was a difficult meeting for all the hobbits.

The rest of the King's entourage reached them, and Elessar said, 'Allow me to present, in my turn, the Counsellors of the North-kingdom representing the Hobbits and Men of Breeland, Mr Underhill, and Mr Butterbur.' The latter was a short, fat, red-faced Man, with bald head and greying eyebrows, whose face creased in a smile to greet the hobbits. 'Mr Took, Master Gamgee, indeed it is good to see you again. O, and my friend here really is named Mr Underhill, not like your Mr Underhill, mind.' The hobbit nodded, a smile lifting the corner of his mouth. He'd been there, that long-ago evening in the Prancing Pony, and had at the time warmly greeted as a long-lost relation the Baggins who'd passed himself off as an Underhill.

'Come,' said Elessar. 'Let us sit down and talk.' He waved his arm towards the browning meadow by the Road, where several guardsmen had spread out blankets to accommodate the King and his Counsellors.

They seated themselves, and the guardsmen retreated to a discreet distance. The hobbits were silent, waiting for the King to speak. 'You sent to me for aid,' he finally said.

Pippin raised his eyes to the King's. 'We are in a fix, and no mistake, Strider,' he said.

'Why was nothing of this said, the other day, when we left you off at the Bridge?' the King asked quietly.

'We didn't know, ourselves,' Pippin said. 'Each Farthing knew of its own bad harvest, but was hoping to trade for food with the other Farthings, to tide them over until next year's harvest.'

Mr Butterbur gave a choking laugh, and the others turned to him. 'Breeland was hoping to trade with the Shire for food,' he explained.

Pippin smiled slightly. 'So our messengers said,' he answered. 'We've plenty of dust to trade, Mr Butterbur, but no food, I fear.'

'How much did you harvest?' the King asked quietly.

'Harvest?' Pippin said, and Sam laughed softly. Merimas shook his head.

When Elessar turned to him, Sam said, 'We might as well have kept the seed in the storeholes, at least we'd have something to eat for a little while longer. 'Twas wasted in the ground.' The King's eyes widened, and the four from the Shire nodded soberly.

Mr Underhill sucked in his breath and exchanged glances with Barliman Butterbur. 'Breeland is better off than the Shire, it seems, hard as it is to believe,' he said.

'How much food do you have then?' Elessar pressed.

'The hobbits of the Shire will eat for a month, perhaps a little more,' the Thain said with difficulty, forcing himself to meet the King's eyes. Merimas kept his gaze on Pippin, and Sam kept his eyes cast down. 'We are out of rope, Strider, at the end of our resources. We've come to you, frankly, because there's nothing else we can think to do.'

Elessar felt his way carefully, not wanting to offend his Counsellors and old friends. 'Breeland has already requested aid of the King,' he said. 'I will be sending swift messengers to Rohan and Gondor. We will send immediate aid by waggon from Rohan, and load ships in Gondor to sail down the Anduin and up to the Havens or up the Baranduin with enough food to take the drought-stricken lands through to the next harvest.'

'We will pay for whatever we receive,' Pippin said suddenly. 'We do not come to you as beggars, Strider.'

'No thought was further from my mind,' the King said. 'Gondor owes a great debt to the Shire.'

'We will pay, Strider,' Pippin said, his voice firm. He locked gazes with the King until the other nodded.

'All those details remain to be worked out,' the King said. 'What I need to know is an approximate number of Shirefolk we're talking about. I have numbers for Breeland already, but need to know how many more waggons to send.' The Consellors went over numbers with the King, who gave low voiced instructions to a scribe sitting near at hand.

'I think you can expect the waggons to arrive near the end of October, perhaps the beginning of November,' the scribe said, 'If the Rohirrim have the waggons... we know they've horses enough, and storehouses of foodstuffs. From all reports, the Road is in good repair and the bridge at Sarn has been completed.'

'Sarn Ford?' Samwise asked.

'Yes, we've dredged the Baranduin to allow passage of ships up and down the River, and put in a drawbridge at Sarn to take the place of the Ford there,' the scribe explained.

'Settlement is increasing along the River and the Road,' the King said. 'The empty lands are not so desolate as they used to be.

The King and his Counsellors continued their discussion. At one point, a guardsman came forward to serve the King. Though he offered refreshment to the Shirefolk, they had brought their own food and stubbornly refused to share the King's, wanting to underline their desire for independence despite the desperate situation they found themselves in. They did not decline the wine he brought, however, though they insisted that he and the Breelanders partake of some of Buckland's famous brandy that they had carried to the meeting.

 It was a strained and difficult meeting, and the King's heart was in his words when he finally bade his old friends farewell, and expressed the hope that their next meeting would be a happier one. It was with a heavy heart that he mounted his horse for the long ride to Bree, to set in motion the plan to save the Shire, and Breeland.