CHAPTER 17

It only took a couple of days until they were once more into the routine they had established before they had stopped at Tharbad.

The third day, Freddy was riding with Targon, talking about Gondor, and how it had changed since the return of the King. Jolly was watching, thinking about how well Captain Freddy seemed to be doing.

Mosco rode up alongside. “Good morning, Jolly.”

“ ‘Morning, Mr. Mosco.” He inclined his head a bit at the greeting.

“You know, you are a part of this embassy, Jolly. You do not have to say ‘Mr.’ to me.”

Jolly laughed. “That’s what Captain Freddy and Mr. Beri have said, too. But it’s hard to change the way I’ve spoke all my life. Now I know how poor Sam feels. Mr. Frodo and Captain Merry and Captain Pippin been trying to get him to stop saying ‘Mr.’ for years now.”

“Well, whatever makes you comfortable, Jolly. But remember that it is all right--you *are* part of this mission.” Mosco was quiet for a moment. “I know you were part of the Rebels--those who were are the only ones who call Freddy ‘Captain’. I still find it amazing that Freddy Bolger was a leader of the Rebellion, even though I was there when--when they killed Folco.”

“Aye,” said Jolly, “that were really the start of it, them Ruffians murdering poor Mr. Folco. But there’s always been more to Captain Freddy than met the eye to my way of thinking.”

“I wish that I had been able to do something. But my parents--my mother especially, wouldn’t have it. They were too frightened after--after that. It was a breath of fresh air when Merry and Pippin and the others came back, and drove the Ruffians out.”

“That it was. But Captain Freddy, he did as much as he could before they caught ‘em, locked ‘em up in the Lockholes. Tom and me was lucky not to be caught with ‘em. We’d taken some foodstuffs back to Bywater, to our old Dad--he was seeing to it that it got to them as needed it--and stayed on a day or two. Then word came the band had been captured and marched to Michel Delving. Not much else to be done after that.”

“Some of your exploits are quite famous--I do think ‘How Fatty Popped the Pimple’ is one of the most popular songs in the Shire.”

Jolly laughed. “That song is not very truthful, Mr. Mosco. We did raid that leaf shipment, and it upset old Pimple no end, but it never happened the way the song said it did.”

“So, what *did* happen, then?”

Jolly thought a moment, back to that day when they struck one of their most successful blows against the so-called Chief…

Tom and Jolly Cotton, Noddy Brownlock, Diccon Hayward, Sparrow Tunnelly and Barley Harfoot crouched behind the shrubbery on the hill overlooking the road from Harcot to Longbottom. It was nearly noon, and the Forelithe Sun was at her peak. It would be a long day.

There was a tiny whistle--one of their own signals, and suddenly they were joined by their Captain. Freddy Bolger was looking grim and determined.

“Look lively lads. I’ve had the signal that the waggons are on their way. The word we had from old Farmer Goold is that there are six of them. They are being driven by hobbits, but there are four of the Men riding with them. From what the *miller*” and Freddy stopped and spat after that word, though all knew whom he meant, but the name of ’Sandyman’ seldom passed Freddy’s lips-- “had to say in his bragging, this shipment of leaf is very important to the Pimple. Apparently his main customer in the South has personally ordered this leaf, and already paid a premium price. The Pimple is going to be in a good deal of trouble with that customer if the leaf never arrives.”

The others nodded. They knew most of this already, though they were pleased to discover that there would only be four Men guarding the shipment.

Bows and slings were readied.

It was less than a quarter hour before they saw the dust of the approaching waggons, and soon they were within sight.

Captain Freddy, Tom, Diccon and Sparrow stood up slowly, notching arrows to their bows, while the others readied stones in their slings.

“Make sure every arrow finds its mark,” whispered Freddy. “We’ll not get another chance.”

The caravan stopped as they came upon the log which lay across the road. One of the Men harshly yanked one of the hobbit drivers down and ordered him to move the log out of the way. They looked about warily, but never saw the hobbits where they had hidden.

Four arrows were loosed and found their marks. The Men dropped where they stood. The hobbits who had been driving the waggons looked about in confusion for an instant, when suddenly the stones found their targets. Three of the hobbits slumped where they sat, two jerked back as they were struck elsewhere than their heads. The last one jumped from the waggon and attempted to hide beneath it.

Freddy and the others scrambled down the hill and approached the waggons, bows drawn, arrows nocked. Tom and Jolly went to look at the bodies of the Men they had shot…

Jolly stopped for a moment, shuddering. “Are you all right, Jolly?” Mosco asked, concerned.

He drew a deep breath. “Aye, that I am. But it was just thinking about it, you see…”

“Captain Freddy!” called Tom. “Look at this!”

Jolly was quietly being sick on the verge.

Three of the dead Men were no surprise, but the fourth, somewhat shorter and more ill-favored--Freddy gasped at the sight of the blood--it was not red like the others, but black. He gulped, as he looked at it.

“What do you suppose that means, Captain Freddy?”

Freddy shook his head. “All I can suppose is that this Man is not like the others. He does not look ugly enough to be a goblin, nor would he be out in the daylight if he were, but I think it may mean that he is at least part goblin. The old stories say goblins and orcs and other creatures of the Dark Lord have black blood.”

Meanwhile the others of the band had rounded up the hobbit drivers. Most of them were as pleased as not to have been stopped. They had been coerced into working for Lotho by threats of violence to themselves or their families. But there were two, a pair of Bracegirdles, who were loud in their protestations.

“You won’t get away with this! The Chief’ll soon put an end to this outrage!” shouted one.

Freddy leaned in until he was almost nose to nose with the other hobbit. The smile he wore was more feral than anything else. In a low, almost pleasant voice, he said “Your Chief *is* the outrage. And sooner or later, someone will put an end to it.”

The Bracegirdle quailed under the glitter in Freddy’s eyes.

Freddy turned around to the others. “Bind these two.”

They soon had their hands tied behind them, none too gently.

“Sparrow!” Freddy called.

“Yes, sir?”

“You know what to do with the waggons, and these other hobbits?”

“I’ll be seeing ‘em into Tookland, unless any of ‘em wish to stay with us?”

Two of the four wished to join up with the Rebels, but two of them were worried about their families.

“We’ll see to your families for you, and they can join you in Tookland. You go ahead with them and see them to Isembold; he’ll get them into the Took’s bounds where they will be safe, and the Thain’ll make good use of the leaf.”

He turned to the Bracegirdles, who quailed beneath his gaze. “These two will make a nice present for their Chief.”

The rest of the hobbits busied themselves with removing the Men’s bodies, and then Sparrow, the other four drivers, and Noddy drove off with the waggons of leaf.

He turned his attention to the prisoners. “Blindfold them. They will be with us for a few days. We need to make our way back to Hobbiton.”

Jolly laughed. “Them two Bracegirdles was none too happy with their lot for the next little while. We was all on short rations by then, and they got what was left *after* the rest of us. And we never let ‘em take off their blindfolds. It took us nigh on ten days to make our way back, having to hide as we did. Finally…”

What in the world was that thumping at the door to Bag End? thought Lotho irritably. The Sun was barely peeping her way over the horizon. If those insolent Men thought he was going to put up with this sort of thing…

There was another loud thump, just before he opened the door.

No one stood there, but there were clods of dirt all over the front step. Also on the front step, trussed up like fowls for the roasting, with gags in their mouths and naked as the day they were born, were the two Bracegirdles who had been in charge of the leaf delivery in the South Farthing. There was a note tucked into the ropes binding one of them.

Lotho’s eyes popped. Bending down, he snatched the note.

“Lotho--

Here’s a little present for you.

By the way, the Thain sends his thanks for the six waggon-loads of Longbottom Leaf.

Until we finally get a chance to meet face to face,

I remain

Your Enemy,

F. Bolger”

From their hidden vantage point, Freddy, Tom and Jolly had a good view of Lotho screaming his curses. He relieved his feelings by kicking at the two hobbits bound at his feet, until his mother came to the door behind him, and yanked him by the ear.

“We took off then, and went back to Dad’s place, hid up in the barn for a while, before we headed back out to our place in the Woody End.”

“Well,” said Mosco, “it’s interesting to hear how it really happened. The song had at least a dozen Men, and Lotho himself driving one of the waggons.”

Jolly shook his head. “No, the Pimple would never have done such a thing, too much like work. And it’s as well he didn’t. If Captain Freddy had caught *him*, it wouldn’t have been pretty. No hobbit’s ever killed another a-purpose since the Shire began, but I think if he ever had got his hands on either Sandyman or the Pimple, that would have changed. And I don’t think it would have been good for him. As it was, both of ‘em got their comeuppance at the hands of the very Men they thought they was bossing, which to my mind seems right fitting.”

“It happened just before they got caught, right?”

Jolly pursed his lips and thought a moment. “Nigh on a month. It were a week or so before Sharkey came. The band took a waggon-load of foodstuffs--flour and ‘taters and such--that had been ‘gathered’ but not shared. We killed three more of the Men that time. Tom and me, we took it home to our old Dad--he was seeing to it that it really *was* getting shared with them as it was *supposed* to get shared with. But one of the hobbit drivers, he pretended to want to join up with us, and he turned traitor on us instead. The day Tom and me was supposed to meet back up with Captain Freddy and them, that was the day we got word as they’d been caught, and was being marched to the Lockholes.”

Jolly sighed. “You know, they was treated so bad, starved and beaten; we never saw Diccon Hayward again, and Sparrow Tunnelly, his health never been the same since. Tom and me, we sometimes felt kind of guilty that we didn’t get caught with the rest of ‘em.”

Mosco nodded. “I know word of what Freddy did put heart in a lot of us, but when he was caught, it rather took the wind out of everyone who’d been hoping. And all my mother could do was say ‘See, I told you so. Aren’t you glad you didn’t get mixed up in that business,’ and all I could think was ‘No, mother, I’m not in the least glad’, for I felt terrible that I’d been of no use at all.” He sighed. “Of course, it didn’t do to say so, for mothers never seem to understand that kind of thing. She meant well, after all.”

They looked ahead, to where Freddy rode alongside Targon, talking and laughing, with Legolas and Gimli on the other side.

“Well, I’m right glad to see Captain Freddy doing better. He was so grim and full of sorrow, and though he would joke with us, it was always bitter jokes with a sting to ‘em.” Jolly smiled. “But now he seems as though a weight’s been lifted.”

“I think it has,” said Mosco. “When I saw him grieving over poor Folco’s body, I wasn’t sure he’d live through that grief.”

“Well, he has,” answered Jolly, “and he’s doing right well. I’m proud to say I know him.”