The Two Towers (The Lord of the Rings #2)(78)

‘Nothing or a double helping is your way!’ said Merry. ‘I am afraid I was not looking beyond tonight’s bed. Where and what are Helm’s Deep and all the rest of it? I don’t know anything about this country.’

‘Then you’d best learn something, if you wish to understand what is happening. But not just now, and not from me: I have too many pressing things to think about.’

‘All right, I’ll tackle Strider by the camp-fire: he’s less testy. But why all this secrecy? I thought we’d won the battle!’

‘Yes, we have won, but only the first victory, and that in itself increases our danger. There was some link between Isengard and Mordor, which I have not yet fathomed. How they exchanged news I am not sure; but they did so. The Eye of Barad-d?r will be looking impatiently towards the Wizard’s Vale, I think; and towards Rohan. The less it sees the better.’

The road passed slowly, winding down the valley. Now further, and now nearer Isen flowed in its stony bed. Night came down from the mountains. All the mists were gone. A chill wind blew. The moon, now waxing round, filled the eastern sky with a pale cold sheen. The shoulders of the mountain to their right sloped down to bare hills. The wide plains opened grey before them.

At last they halted. Then they turned aside, leaving the highway and taking to the sweet upland turf again. Going westward a mile or so they came to a dale. It opened southward, leaning back into the slope of round Dol Baran, the last hill of the northern ranges, greenfooted, crowned with heather. The sides of the glen were shaggy with last year’s bracken, among which the tight-curled fronds of spring were just thrusting through the sweet-scented earth. Thornbushes grew thick upon the low banks, and under them they made their camp, two hours or so before the middle of the night. They lit a fire in a hollow, down among the roots of a spreading hawthorn, tall as a tree, writhen with age, but hale in every limb. Buds were swelling at each twig’s tip.

Guards were set, two at a watch. The rest, after they had supped, wrapped themselves in a cloak and blanket and slept. The hobbits lay in a corner by themselves upon a pile of old bracken. Merry was sleepy, but Pippin now seemed curiously restless. The bracken cracked and rustled, as he twisted and turned.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Merry. ‘Are you lying on an ant-hill?’

‘No,’ said Pippin, ‘but I’m not comfortable. I wonder how long it is since I slept in a bed?’

Merry yawned. ‘Work it out on your fingers!’ he said. ‘But you must know how long it is since we left Lórien.’

‘Oh, that!’ said Pippin. ‘I mean a real bed in a bedroom.’

‘Well, Rivendell then,’ said Merry. ‘But I could sleep anywhere tonight.’

‘You had the luck, Merry,’ said Pippin softly, after a pause. ‘You were riding with Gandalf.’

‘Well, what of it?’

‘Did you get any news, any information out of him?’

‘Yes, a good deal. More than usual. But you heard it all or most of it; you were close by, and we were talking no secrets. But you can go with him tomorrow, if you think you can get more out of him – and if he’ll have you.’

‘Can I? Good! But he’s close, isn’t he? Not changed at all.’

‘Oh yes, he is!’ said Merry, waking up a little, and beginning to wonder what was bothering his companion. ‘He has grown, or something. He can be both kinder and more alarming, merrier and more solemn than before, I think. He has changed; but we have not had a chance to see how much, yet. But think of the last part of that business with Saruman! Remember Saruman was once Gandalf’s superior: head of the Council, whatever that may be exactly. He was Saruman the White. Gandalf is the White now. Saruman came when he was told, and his rod was taken; and then he was just told to go, and he went!’

‘Well, if Gandalf has changed at all, then he’s closer than ever that’s all,’ Pippin argued. ‘That—glass ball, now. He seemed mighty pleased with it. He knows or guesses something about it. But does he tell us what? No, not a word. Yet I picked it up, and I saved it from rolling into a pool. Here, I’ll take that, my lad – that’s all. I wonder what it is? It felt so very heavy.’ Pippin’s voice fell very low, as if he was talking to himself.

‘Hullo!’ said Merry. ‘So that’s what is bothering you? Now, Pippin my lad, don’t forget Gildor’s saying – the one Sam used to quote: Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.’

‘ But our whole life for months has been one long meddling in the affairs of Wizards,’ said Pippin. ‘I should like a bit of information as well as danger. I should like a look at that ball.’

‘Go to sleep!’ said Merry. ‘You’ll get information enough, sooner or later. My dear Pippin, no Took ever beat a Brandy-buck for inquisitiveness; but is this the time, I ask you?’

‘All right! What’s the harm in my telling you what I should like: a look at that stone? I know I can’t have it, with old Gandalf sitting on it, like a hen on an egg. But it doesn’t help much to get no more from you than a you-can’t-have-it so-go-to-sleep!’

‘Well, what else could I say?’ said Merry. ‘I’m sorry, Pippin, but you really must wait till the morning. I’ll be as curious as you like after breakfast, and I’ll help in any way I can at wizard-wheedling. But I can’t keep awake any longer. If I yawn any more, I shall split at the ears. Good night!’