Chapter 6. Hold Thou Firm against All Evil

The westering Sun was just kissing the Tower Hills, and Elanor sighed. She wondered what they looked like, those hills, what she would see standing atop one of them. Would she be able to see the Sea?

Sometimes she dreamed of the Sea, smelled the salt air, heard the booming waves, felt them curl about her feet, pulling at the sand she stood upon, and the dream would linger into her wakening until her mother would have to speak sharply to recall her to the mundane tasks of the day.

Surely this evening, the folk of Greenholm would render their decision, and on the morrow she'd be off again to familiar haunts, turning her back on the wide world, as yet unexplored, unexperienced.

'Are you tired, Sister?' Frodo asked solicitously. 'We can go back now, if you like.'

'No,' she said wryly. 'I'm sure someone will be coming to get us at any moment. Regi, undoubtedly, or Ferdi, or even Father.'

'Not, perhaps, some handsome young scion of Greenholm?' Frodo teased.

'Frodo!' she said, annoyed, and he laughed, glad to have managed to get a rise out of her.

'I rather fancied his brother, myself,' Rose said smugly, and it was Frodo's turn to frown.

'You oughtn't flirt so outrageously,' he said sternly. 'It isn't proper.'

Rose giggled, but Elanor agreed. 'You aren't just hurting yourself,' she said, 'but all of us, especially Father. Our behaviour reflects on him, you know, and he's counting on us...'

Her younger sister pouted. 'I was only having a bit of fun.'

'You can have your fun back in Hobbiton,' Frodo said, then hurriedly corrected himself, 'or not, I mean, not your kind of fun. It's going to get you into trouble, Rose.'

'Trouble! Faugh!' Rose said pertly. 'I know exactly what I'm doing.'

'I'm afraid so,' Elanor said soberly. 'And Mum and Dad wouldn't like it, you know they wouldn't.'

'You're just envious, that I get all the attention,' Rose said with an irritating smile, 'but you know you'd turn a few heads if you'd just try.'

'I don't want to turn heads,' Elanor said.

'That's obvious,' Rose answered haughtily.

***

From the cover of the long grass nearby, One-eye grasped the arm of the Man next to him, gave a squeeze, and the signal went down the row. These bright-haired lasses, now... curls shining in the sunset light like spun gold, and only the one lad with them. Easy pickings. He licked his lips and smiled. He could almost feel the weight of gold in his hands...

***

'I'm going to tell Dad to leave you behind in Hobbiton,' Frodo said. 'You're obviously picked too green, you've got to ripen a bit more.'

'Don't you dare!' Rose said, 'or I'll tell him about the time--' she did not finish her threat, for several great forms erupted from the long grass, throwing sacks over herself and Elanor and bearing them up, throwing them over powerful shoulders with enough force to knock the air, and the screams from their lungs.

Frodo tried to resist, only to be knocked dazed to the ground with the swing of a club before he could sound the alarm, and then... he was alone. His sisters were gone, melted into the long grass, in the dusk, and Reginard was helping him to sit up.

'What happened?' the steward snapped.

'Ruffians,' Frodo gasped. 'They took Ellie, and Rose...' Dread seized his heart.

'Did you see which way they went?' Regi demanded.

'Towards the woods,' Frodo answered.

'Can you stand?' At his nod, Regi hauled him to his feet. 'Run for help,' the steward added. 'I'll be following them, leaving a trail for you.' He held up a sheaf of papers. 'The farmers' letter to the Thain,' he said. 'We'll put it to good use.' He would tear bits off and strew them behind him as he followed the ruffians into the gathering gloom, to make a trail easier to follow than footprints in the dark.

Frodo nodded and ran shouting the alarm.

The ruffians heard the shouts, and cursed.

'Discovered already!' one of them grumbled.

'Ah, well, sounds like one of the little rats,' One-eye said philosophically. 'At least it isn't the guardsmen. 'Twould be difficult to outrun their horses, but we can surely outdistance a little rat, and once we're in the woods...'

'What if they fetch the guardsmen?' another panted. Little the lass might be, but she was still a burden, especially for one on the run.

'That'll take time,' One-eye said confidently. 'They were on their way back to the outpost, after all, when Red saw them, and it'll take time for the little folk to muster. We'll be well into the woods by then, and you know they've never followed us through the darkness.'

'We've never taken one of their lasses, before, neither,' another grumbled.

'Bunch of cowards, the lot of them,' One-eye said. 'They've never been able to stand up to us, and if any do happen to follow, well, we're bigger than they are...'

Regi ran smoothly behind the ruffians. Though their legs were longer, he was unburdened, and they were hampered by their desire to leave as little sign as possible, where he did not have that worry. As a matter of fact, he kept tearing bits off the pages he held and dropping them as he ran. Good thing the Thain insisted that all those who worked for him must be able to run far and shoot well. It stood Regi in good stead in this instance.

The ruffians reached the edge of the wood and passed in. Regi slowed, caution warning him that they might post a sentry to warn of pursuit. He moved as quietly as only a hobbit can. There was a sentry, indeed, but he did not see the steward slip by.

Reaching a clearing well within the cover of the trees, the ruffians stopped to catch their breath.

'Start a fire,' One-eye ordered. 'I doubt they'll pursue us until the morning light. They're farmers, not trackers. There's no way they'll find our trail in the dark.' On second thought, he added, 'Make it a small one, just in case...' He looked to the two who carried sacks. 'Let us see what we have caught.'

The sacks were removed, and he caught his breath. Little folk they might be, but these lasses were lookers for all that, long tresses of golden curls, tumbling down over their shoulders in the firelight, large eyes, wide with fright, rosebud lips. He felt a stirring within himself, fought it down, made himself think of the gold. 'A very nice prize, indeed,' was all he allowed himself to say. 'We are going to be rich!'

One of the ruffians ran a dirty finger down a creamy cheek from ear to point of chin. 'We don't need to sell both of 'em, surely,' he growled. 'Can't we keep one for ourselves?' The lass gasped, dread in her eyes, and One-eye smiled grimly. It would be difficult to convince his men, but he would try.

'They're worth more than their weight in gold, if we deliver them unspoilt,' he said firmly. 'Unspoilt, mind.' He looked around the circle of faces. 'Think of it. You could have one night of pleasure this night, sure, but the gold we'll get will buy you a lifetime instead.'

They were wavering, and he sensed things could go either way at this juncture. He clinched his authority by issuing an order. 'Bind 'em,' he said. 'But be gentle. We don't want to leave any marks.'

Soon the lasses were safely bound, and the ruffians turned to cooking up a quick bite over the fire. Regi watched from the cover of the trees. It showed their confidence, he thought, that they even had a fire. Obviously they expected no pursuit, and no trouble this night.

The steward waited until the ruffians had gathered around the fire, roasting meat they'd cached earlier, jostling for the choicest bits, boasting jovially about what they'd do with the gold once they had it. They were so confident in their success, and the impotence of little folk, that they did not even set a guard upon their captives once they'd trussed them, simply leaving them to lie like logs just outside the firelight.

Regi crept around to Rose, holding a finger to his lips as he emerged from the shadows. She quickly suppressed a gasp, and he nodded approvingly, then took out his knife and carefully cut her bonds. Drawing her into the shadows, he breathed into her ear, 'There's a climbable tree just behind us... wrap yourself in my cloak, cover your hair, climb up as high as you can and stay absolutely still.'

Wide-eyed, she nodded, taking his cloak and moving towards the tree he indicated. He would free Elanor next, send her up the tree, have her share the cloak and cover that golden hair so that it would not draw the eyes of searching ruffians. Then he'd lead the Men well away, through the woods, give them the slip, and come back for the lasses. It was the only plan he could think of, and it was a good one, if all went well.

But all did not go well. As he was cutting Elanor's bonds, he saw her eyes widen, just before blackness claimed him. He had not heard the soft step behind him as One-eye came to check on the captives after he'd eaten his fill.

He held up the limp body, shouting for the others. 'Look!' he said. 'Looks as if the rats go out in the dark after all!'

'How many are there?' someone demanded.

'Don't know,' One-eye said. 'Let's find out. Red, you go back and check with Three-fingers, see how many entered the woods.' He looked around. 'Hey!' he said suddenly. 'Where's the other lass?'

The ruffians looked about the clearing stupidly. Clearly the bird had flown. 'Look about,' One-eye ordered. 'See if you can find any sign of her.'

'I've an idea,' an evil-looking ruffian said. 'Let's waken this one and ask him what he did with her.'

'And just what makes you think he'll talk, Chase?' another said.

The evil-looking Man laughed nastily. 'There's ways,' he said darkly. 'Bind him to a tree, while I see what's what.'

One of the searchers came forward with Regi's bow and quiver. 'Lookee what I've found,' he said. 'A pretty toy.'

One-eye took the weapon from the other. 'I used to have one just like this when I was a lad,' he said, running appreciative fingers along the length of polished wood. 'Sweet, very sweet indeed.'

'Let me see that,' Chase said. He examined the bow, and the quiver of arrows, then said, 'Throw a bucket of water over him, I think we're about to have a nice little chat.'

Elanor watched, terrified, as a bucket of cold water was thrown into the steward's face, and he choked and spluttered, raising his head to stare defiantly at the ruffians. He hung, at a Man's eye level, from his arms by ropes tied to branches of a large beech; more ropes around his chest and legs held him securely against the trunk of the tree.

Chase stalked up to him. 'Rope a little too tight for your liking?' he asked pleasantly. 'We could loosen it, but I fear you might fall.'

The steward made no answer, meeting the ruffian's gaze without expression.

'Where's the girl?' Chase demanded suddenly. At the other's lack of response, he delivered a ringing slap, calculated to hurt without damaging the prisoner, or sending him back into unconsciousness, out of the reach of the inquisitor.

'What have you done with her?' he asked, with another slap. The hobbit gave no answer.

Red came jogging back with Three-fingers, to report no sign of pursuit. 'He must have been happening by, seen us take the girls, and followed.'

'Good,' One-eye smiled. 'With any luck they won't be missed until the morning, and by then we'll be well away.' He turned back to the interrogation. 'See if we can find the other one. You may take an hour or two, but after that, we're moving on.'

Chase nodded. 'If she's anywhere near, we'll have her.' He smiled at the steward. 'Tell us where she is, and things won't go so ill with you,' he said. 'You think you have troubles now? Just wait...' He stepped back and snatched up the bow and quiver from where they'd been dropped after the others had examined them.

'Nice little toy,' he said. 'Always wanted one of these...' He strung the bow, clumsily, and pulled an arrow from the quiver. Nocking it to the string, he raised the weapon, aiming it at the steward. Elanor gasped, and One-eye strode forward, protesting.

'He won't be able to tell us much if you kill him,' he said.

'Just watch,' Chase answered. He drew back the string and let fly. The arrow buried itself in the tree beside Regi's left ear.

'Nice shot,' One-eye said, 'but you might have killed him. You thinking to scare him into talking?'

'Naw,' Chase said in frustration. 'I was aiming for the gut. Good place for a wound, very painful, and soon they beg to tell you all they know, more than you ever wanted to hear, if you will just put them out of their misery.'

One-eye began to smile. 'So,' he said, 'that's your game...' He held out his hand, and Chase gave him the weapon. 'Seems to me you need a little lesson in shooting, then, or you might end the game too soon by mishap.' He looked into the steward's eyes. 'And we would not want that to happen...'