CHAPTER 23

While Poppy watched Bergil, Viola sat in the shade of a tree resting. It was cooler than in the small tent she shared with the healer. She was tired, but she was used to being tired--it was all a part of learning to be a healer after all.

She was worried about their young patient. Because they had been unable to get all the water out of his lungs, due to the broken ribs, this infection had set in. And unfortunately, it did not seem to be getting better as quickly as Poppy expected. Yet the Captains did not seem unduly alarmed, and Fredegar had told the healers that according to what Merry, Pippin and Frodo revealed, it seemed hobbits tended to heal more quickly of such things than Men did. So they were keeping watch, and trying not to be panic-stricken over the seeming lack of progress.

Berilac came over and sat next to her. “How are you doing, Viola?”

She sighed, and leaned back against the tree. “I’m tired, of course, and concerned about Bergil, but otherwise I am fine. How did the swimming lessons go?”

Beri gave a rueful chuckle. “Better than I expected in some ways, not as well in others. Jolly took to it like it was second breakfast--he is learning very quickly. Mosco is doing as well as the usual beginner. But Freddy is having a struggle. He is trying very hard, though, and I think if he can just stop *thinking* so much, he will do well.” He sighed. “I wish I could be teaching you,” he said softly.

Viola gave him a shy smile. “Well, Mistress Poppy has decreed that as Master Legolas is the oldest member of the company, he is the only proper one to teach the two of us, since there are no other females who can teach us.”

Berilac nodded. “That’s the way it’s normally done in Buckland, I must confess, unless the lasses are very young. If they are younger than their mid-teens, then usually any sibling or cousin can teach them to swim. But if they are older than that, then it must either be another female or the senior male of their family. Or their husbands,” he added. “Because mostly the Bucklanders do learn to swim early, and it’s the lasses who marry into the family who have to learn as adults.” He laughed. “I remember my parents telling the stories of my mother’s learning to swim. She’s a Proudfoot by birth, and was scandalized to find out that anyone living in Brandy Hall is expected to learn how to swim. She thought up all kinds of excuses to postpone the lessons from my father. And then when she finally did learn how, discovered she enjoyed it very much. After that, he was hard put to keep her *out* of the water. When my Grandmother Proudfoot came to visit, she nearly fainted when my mother told her she went swimming almost every day in the summer!”

“Everyone in Brandy Hall must learn to swim?”

Berilac nodded. “Yes. That started in Grandfather Rory’s day.” He looked solemn. “At one time, those who married into the family from the Shire were not really expected to learn how to swim, but after Frodo’s parents drowned, Grandfather decided to change that. He always believed that if Drogo had known how to swim, then he might have saved both himself and Primula. The evidence showed that she probably struck her head on the boat, and was unconscious. Drogo could not swim at all, and…”

Viola shuddered. The tale of the Bagginses' untimely end was usually held up as a reason for *avoiding* swimming and boating and any bodies of water larger than a bathing tub.

“I have seen Frodo Baggins at the Great Smials from time to time, ever since I became Mistress Poppy’s apprentice. He has always had an air of melancholy.”

“Yes,” said Beri. “I can remember when he still lived at Brandy Hall. He could be lively and full of mischief, and got into his share of scrapes, like most lads; but the least little reminder of his parents, and he would go all quiet, and try to get off by himself. I don’t remember when Merry was born--I was only a babe of two at the time. But I do remember when Merry was a faunt and old enough to toddle about. You seldom saw him far from Frodo’s side. And as long as he had Merry with him, then he’d be his lively and cheerful self. But I also remember the grown-ups watching him like a hawk; he was never allowed anywhere near the River alone.”

Viola suddenly realized what Beri meant. “His melancholy was *that* severe?”

“I suppose it must have been, looking back. Of course, I didn’t really understand it myself. But I remember overhearing my Da and Uncle Sara talking once, about how it was just as well that Bilbo took him away from Buckland and the River.”

The young healer sighed. “It’s so sad.”

“It is. But he’s turned out a remarkable hobbit. And I think that all the pain he went through when he was young helped him later on.”

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Borondir and Anwynd exchanged a heartfelt sigh. The four prisoners had sulkily balked at every turn.

“Strip down to our smallclothes?” Dago had yelled indignantly.

“Would you rather go into the water fully clothed, and then have to stay in wet clothing the rest of the day?” asked Borondir.

Clovis cursed, and then bit his tongue as Anwynd held up a rather soiled handkerchief and waved it in front of him.

Clodio said nothing, but wrapped his arms tightly about himself.

The Men stared at the hobbits, and the hobbits stared stubbornly back.

Finally, with an exasperated shrug, Anwynd said “We *could* just throw them in the middle, to see if they will sink or swim. It is not the best way to teach, but has been known to work every once in a while.”

Borondir shrugged. “I don’t suppose we want to drown them. That’s the whole idea behind teaching them. Still if they won’t cooperate…”

Dago spluttered indignantly, Clodio turned even paler, Clovis even redder. Finally, Cado began to unbutton his shirt. “This is ridiculous,” he said. “We might as well do it and get it over with. I don’t suppose they will actually drown us, as they want us alive to give to their king.”

Dago looked briefly startled, then he too, began to remove his shirt. Soon enough, the other two followed suit, though with obvious reluctance.

The two Men gave one another an eloquent glance. If it had been so much trouble getting them to disrobe, how difficult was it going to be to actually get them into the water?

A few hours later, the Men allowed them to dry off and get dressed.

“Do you think they will need another lesson?” Borondir asked Anwynd.

The Rider shrugged. “They can now tread water and keep themselves afloat for a while if they should happen to fall in deep water. I suppose that’s the best we can hope for.”

The Gondorian nodded. It was the bare minimum, and could scarcely be called swimming, but it would have to do, for the two soldiers had no intention of putting up with the sullen prisoners for a second time.

They gladly herded them back toward the campsite.

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Mosco had brought down several squirrels with his sling that afternoon, so Rolly and Denny decided on squirrel stew for supper. Seasoned with herbs and cooked with some dried vegetables, as well as some fresh mushrooms and wild onions that had been found earlier in the day, when the swimmers were returning from their first lesson, it smelled wonderful. Rolly used some of the flour in their stores to make dumplings for the stew, and Denny had found some wild watercress to make a salad.

Poppy was coaxed from Bergil’s side to take supper with the others; Anwynd offered to sit with the child.

“It is no trouble to me, little Mistress, for I am fond of him, and I miss my pupil.” Poppy nodded. All the Men were very fond of the child. The Gondorians, of course, had known him from infancy and were good friends with his father, but the Rohirrim had traveled with him for many months, and had come to appreciate the child’s earnestness and good cheer. And Anwynd of course, had been teaching him to play the flute.

Anwynd took a bowl of the stew for himself, and another with mostly broth for Bergil. The others gathered round the fire, and ate. Again the atmosphere was subdued. Worry for Bergil had made all of them solemn, and the lack of his cheerful presence among them was keenly felt. Everyone had begun to realize just how much the child had done to keep spirits up among them.

The meal was soon finished, and the company sat around quietly, with only the occasional remark passing for conversation.

But as the Sun began her final descent into the west, they heard the notes of Anwynd’s flute coming from the tent. He was playing the melody of a sweet lullaby well-known in the South. All stopped to listen, and there was silence as they allowed the music to direct their thoughts.

Freddy could not help but think of Folco, especially as when that lullaby finished, the player began another, this one of the Shire, taught to Anwynd by Pippin. He felt the tears well up, but the ache, though deep, was not piercing. He thought of Bergil, now as well. For the first time in several days, he took out Folco’s flute, and began to examine it.

The tears then fell, and they were as much his worry for Bergil as they were grief for Folco.

He laid his head on his knees, and did not look up as he heard and felt someone sitting down on each side of him in silent companionship. He didn’t need to look to know that it was Legolas and Gimli.