Picture by Alan Lee
'I say, Theoden King: shall we have peace and friendship, you and I? It is ours to command.'
'We will have peace,' said Theoden at last thickly and with an effort. Several of the Riders cried out gladly. Théoden held up his hand. ‘Yes, we will have peace,’ he said, now in a clear voice, ‘we will have peace, when you and all your works have perished – and the works of your dark master to whom you would deliver us. You are a liar, Saruman, and a corrupter of men’s hearts. You hold out your hand to me, and I perceive only a finger of the claw of Mordor. Cruel and cold! Even if your war on me was just – as it was not, for were you ten times as wise you would have no right to rule me and mine for your own profit as you desired – even so, what will you say of your torches in the Westfold and the children that lie dead there? And they hewed Háma’s body before the gates of the Hornburg, after he was dead. When you hang from a gibbet at your window for the sport of your own crows, I will have peace with you and Orthanc.'
At last the wizard passed into a song of which the hobbit caught the words: a few lines became clear to his ears through the rushing of the wind:
Tall ships and tall kings/Three times three/What brought they from the foundered land/Over the flowing sea?/Seven stars and seven stones/And one white tree.
So sleek, so fair!/What a joy to meet!/We only wish/to catch a fish,/so juicy-sweet!
All hobbits, of course, can cook, for they begin to learn the art before their letters (which many never reach); but Sam was a good cook, even by hobbit reckoning, and he had done a good deal of the camp-cooking on their travels, when there was a chance.
'Nay! Not Elves,' said the fourth, the tallest, and as it appeared the chief among them. 'Elves do not walk in Ithilien in these days. And Elves are wondrous fair to look upon, or so 'tis said.'
'Meaning we're not, I take you,' said Sam.
Kings made tombs more splendid than houses of the living, and counted old names in the rolls of their descent dearer than the names of sons.
'Hold up, Mr. Frodo!' muttered Sam in Frodo's ear. 'Come back! Not that way. Gollum says not, and for once I agree with him.'
'Still, I wonder if we shall ever be put into songs or tales. We're in one, of course; but I mean: put into words, you know, told by the fireside, or read out of a great big book with red and black letters, years and years afterwards. And people will say: "Let's hear about Frodo and the Ring! " And they'll say: "Yes, that's one of my favourite stories. Frodo was very brave. wasn't he, dad?" "Yes, my boy, the famousest of the hobbits, and that's saying a lot."'
'Sneaking, sneaking!' he hissed. 'Hobbits always so polite, yes. O nice Hobbits! Sméagol brings them up secret ways that nobody else could find. Tired he is, thirsty he is, yes thirsty; and he guides them and he searches for paths, and they say
sneak, sneak. Very nice friends, O yes my precious, very nice.'
Sam felt a bit remorseful, though not more trustful. 'Sorry.' he said. 'I'm sorry, but you startled me out of my sleep. And I shouldn't have been sleeping, and that made me a bit sharp. But Mr. Frodo. he's that tired, I asked him to have a wink; and well, that's how it is. Sorry. But where have you been to? '
`Sneaking,' said Gollum, and the green glint did not leave his eyes.
'Frodo, Mr. Frodo!' he called. 'Don't leave me here alone! It's your Sam calling. Don't go where I can't follow! Wake up, Mr. Frodo!'