While Aragorn cleaned off in the stream, Legolas volunteered to watch over Frodo. Pippin soon lay sound asleep next to his elder cousin, lulled into slumber by the Elf’s soft singing. Sam and Merry sat near Legolas, talking softly.
“This is all my fault,” Merry murmured. “If I hadn’t looked into that globe... if I hadn’t listened to that voice...”
“Do not blame yourself, Merry,” Legolas advised. “Remember what Aragorn told you: Saruman is a wizard, with powers beyond our reckoning. We are fortunate to still be together, and relatively well.”
“He’s right,” Sam agreed, checking Frodo’s breathing for the dozenth time in an hour. “We’re doing our best, aren’t we?” He looked up suddenly, and sniffed the air. “That boar should be near ready, I think...”
“Go on, Sam,” Merry urged. “I’m not budging from this spot until they wake up.”
“All right. I’ll be back soon.” Sam left the shelter, calling for Gimli and Boromir to bring long, sturdy sticks over to the roasting pit.
When Aragorn had dried off and changed clothes, he joined Gandalf, who was once again standing at the surfline, gazing out to Sea.
“Círdan and his folk are two days out,” Gandalf told the ranger. “They come as quickly as they can.”
“I will be relieved to leave this place,” Aragorn replied. “What more can we do, Gandalf? How do we safeguard Frodo -- and all of them -- until rescue arrives?”
“By now,” Gandalf mused, “Saruman’s minion has reported that the Ringbearer is surely dead, and that four of our number were missing when he arrived. Saruman must know that his control of Merry was broken -- for the moment -- but may believe that Merry’s three rescuers succumbed to the trap toward which they were led.” The wizard shook his head. “With the Ringbearer dead, Saruman would not envision that an Elf or a Dwarf would allow the other to carry the One Ring -- nor would he believe that I would take it, or entrust it to a Man. It would be given over to a new bearer -- one of the remaining hobbits.”
Aragorn nodded. “What will he try next? Can you guess?”
“Saruman is a master of illusion,” Gandalf said. “His powers of persuasion lie with word or thought that cloud reason and gives him control.” He grew thoughtful. “One of the things he may have learned from Frodo’s mind -- or Merry’s -- is that rescue is not long in coming. I suspect he may be growing desperate enough, now, to leave his sanctuary and come for the Ring himself. In fact, we should see to it that he does.”
“Why?” Aragorn asked, incredulous.
“Saruman is too great a threat, if left on this island,” Gandalf explained. “No plane, ship, or traveler would be safe from his Dark Magic, and anyone he brought here would sooner or later be enspelled and enslaved. Saruman has one man and beast in his thrall at this time -- before long he would have an army, to unleash toward whatever evil he wishes.”
“How could we lure him to us?” Aragorn murmured. “We would need...”
“Bait,” Gandalf said quietly. “One of the hobbits must look into the palantir, and show Saruman the Ring. Saruman will believe that we are flaunting our victory over him before we leave. In his arrogance and desperation, he will come for it.”
“Gandalf,” Aragorn warned, “if you choose to do this, and the hobbits agree, it cannot be Merry; further contact with the palantir might do him great harm. He may not be able to shake off its effects as easily a second time, and might crave it as an addict craves poppy.”
“Hobbits are most amazing creatures,” Gandalf declared from long experience, “but there is no need for Merry to do this if Pippin or Sam are willing.”
Aragorn sighed. “I do not like the idea of using anyone as bait, especially one of the hobbits.”
“A renegade wizard must not be allowed to remain free,” Gandalf said firmly. “Aragorn, it may be a chance we will need to take. We are running out of time.”
~*~
Frodo and Pippin opened their eyes almost simultaneously, awakened by delicious smells and soft, murmuring voices.
“I told you that would do it,” Merry said with a grin as Pippin sat up, bleary-eyed. “No Took or Baggins is going to sleep through something that smells this good.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” Pippin declared, his voice hoarse. “I just closed my eyes for a minute.”
“That was hours ago,” Boromir chuckled, pointing to the darkening sky.
“Is everyone all right?” Frodo murmured from where he lay. “Pip, why do you sound so strange?”
“I fell into muddy water and swallowed a bit,” Pippin said promptly, making light of his harrowing experience. “Merry, are you going to pass me a plate, or not?”
“Frodo,” Boromir said gravely, “I apologize for the words I spoke earlier -- about the Ring. My weakness may have allowed Saruman to enspell me as he did. I say to you now, that not even if I saw it lying upon the sand, untended, would I take it.”
“I believe you,” Frodo said, gazing deeply into the Man’s eyes.
“How do you feel?” Aragorn asked Frodo, helping him to sit up.
“Sore,” Frodo smiled faintly, “but alive.” He took an experimental deep breath, and winced. He smiled at Boromir’s pained expression. “You saved my life, Boromir,” he said. “A few bruises are a small price to pay.”
“Let me see,” Aragorn said, partially unwrapping one of the bandages from Frodo’s chest. He nodded. “You will be stiff and sore for several days; try to take it as easy as you can.” He replaced the length of cloth and helped Frodo into a shirt against the cool evening air.
“That healing plant you used is a wonder, sir,” Sam said to Aragorn, handing Frodo a heaping plateful of the tender, sliced boar and tubers that had been roasting all day. “His bruises are already beginning to fade.”
“Sam, you are the wonder,” Boromir said appreciatively, tasting the roasted meat. “Your skill with herbs rivals the finest chefs in Gondor.” Sam blushed, but the others all nodded.
The mithril shirt lay next to Frodo, and he fingered it wonderingly. “Legolas,” he said softly, holding it out to the Elf. “Without this I would have been---”
“This now belongs to you, Frodo,” Legolas said. “What use is such an heirloom, gathering dust, when it can serve to protect a courageous hobbit?”
“Thank you,” Frodo whispered.
The group ate steadily, and mostly silently, finishing the meal with a dessert of sweet, shredded coconut and sliced fruits. Finally, when even the hobbits had eaten their fill, Gandalf looked around at everyone.
“There is a matter we need to discuss,” the wizard began. “I believe that the Elves’ ship will arrive in two days if the weather remains fair. Saruman will know that he has little time left in which to obtain the Ring -- and we have little time left in which to lure him to us, and bind him for the trip home.”
“Lure him to us?” Sam asked in disbelief. “Isn’t that the last thing we want?”
Gandalf shook his head. “He cannot be permitted to remain here, Sam. Any plane passing near this island would be in danger; even the ship on which we depart could be prey to the same Dark Magic that brought us here. We must settle with Saruman before we leave. He would risk much if he was certain of the identity of the Ringbearer -- and believed that we were now too few to oppose him.”
“The new Ringbearer, you mean,” Frodo said slowly. “Saruman’s servant no doubt believes that he killed me.”
Gandalf nodded, pleased at Frodo’s perception. “And he would believe that the three who pursued Merry are most likely also dead. He would think the danger now less, but the urgency greater.” He paused and looked at the other three hobbits in turn. “It is likely that one of you would now safeguard the Ring.” Sam, Merry, and Pippin exchanged glances.
“How do you propose to lure him to us?” Legolas asked, puzzled. “Why do you not think that his minion would simply return and attack our ‘diminished numbers’ with greater zeal?”
“Frodo gave us the clue, when he was in communication with Saruman,” Aragorn said. “The wizard is arrogant and can see no further than his own plans and avarice. If he felt we were too confident... as arrogant as he...”
“What are you saying?” Gimli frowned.
“If Saruman believes that one of the three remaining hobbits now safeguards the Ring,” Aragorn said softly, “perhaps we could show him that he is correct. If he gazes into his palantir and sees the Ring and its new bearer, Gandalf does not believe he could resist coming for it.”
“But the only way for him to see one of us... would be if we could see him,” Merry frowned. “that would mean...”
“Yes,” Gandalf nodded. “If either Pippin or Sam are willing, Aragorn will bring out the seeing stone and let you gaze into it -- for a moment only. And Frodo would need to relinquish the Ring to one of you -- for a moment only.” Gandalf looked steadily at Frodo. “Do you think you could do that?”
“I...” Frodo looked uncertain. “I could try. But I don’t like this plan, Gandalf. We’re in danger as it is. Drawing it towards us faster seems... unwise. And putting someone else in Saruman’s sights seems---”
“What about me?” Merry declared suddenly. “Why just Pippin or Sam?”
“Merry, you would be my very last choice for this venture,” Aragorn said hastily. “A second experience with the seeing stone might be perilous for you.”
“Gandalf,” Legolas asked, “if Saruman takes this ‘bait’ and approaches, what will you do? How would we capture him?”
“Aragorn and I have a plan,” Gandalf said.
“This is folly,” Boromir burst out. “Do not put the little folk in more danger by drawing Saruman’s eye toward them. One of the rest of us can---”
“No,” Gandalf said firmly. “Saruman would expect me to pass the Ring only to one of the hobbits. But we will only take this course if Sam or Pippin agree.”
“I’d do anything to keep that villain’s attention from Frodo,” Sam declared.
“As would I,” Pippin piped up. “How will we decide?”
“Frodo must do so,” Gandalf said quietly. “If he feels able to give the Ring to another, it is he who should say whom he wishes that person to be.” He looked at Frodo. “Do you wish to decide in the morning?”
“No,” Frodo said softly. “There is only one logical choice.”
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