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.Merry wished he was a tall Rider like Éomer and could blow ahorn or something and go galloping to his rescue.He sat up, listening to thedrums that were beating again, now nearer at hand.Presently he heard voicesspeaking low, and he saw dim half-shrouded lanterns passing through the trees.Men nearby began to move uncertainly in the dark.A tall figure loomed up and stumbled over him, cursing the tree-roots.Herecognized the voice of the Marshal, Elfhelm.‘I am not a tree-root, Sir,’ he said, ‘nor a bag, but a bruised hobbit.Theleast you can do in amends is to tell me what is afoot.’‘Anything that can keep so in this devil’s mirk,’ answered Elfhelm.‘But mylord sends word that we must set ourselves in readiness: orders may come for asudden move.’‘Is the enemy coming then?’ asked Merry anxiously.‘Are those their drums? Ibegan to think I was imagining them, as no one else seemed to take any noticeof them.’‘Nay, nay,’ said Elfhelm, ‘the enemy is on the road not in the hills.You hearthe Woses, the Wild Men of the Woods: thus they talk together from afar.Theystill haunt Drúadan Forest, it is said.Remnants of an older time they be,living few and secretly, wild and wary as the beasts.They go not to war withGondor or the Mark; but now they are troubled by the darkness and the coming ofthe orcs: they fear lest the Dark Years be returning, as seems likely enough.Let us be thankful that they are not hunting us: for they use poisoned arrows,it is said, and they are woodcrafty beyond compare.But they have offered theirservices to Théoden.Even now one of their headmen is being taken to the king.Yonder go the lights.So much I have heard but no more.And now I must busymyself with my lord’s commands.Pack yourself up, Master Bag!’ He vanished intothe shadows.Merry did not like this talk of wild men and poisoned darts, but quite apartfrom that a great weight of dread was on him.Waiting was unbearable.He longedto know what was going to happen.He got up and soon was walking warily inpursuit of the last lantern before it disappeared among the trees.Presently he came to an open space where a small tent had been set up for theking under a great tree.A large lantern, covered above, was hanging from abough and cast a pale circle of light below.There sat Théoden and Éomer, andbefore them on the ground sat a strange squat shape of a man, gnarled as an oldstone, and the hairs of his scanty beard straggled on his lumpy chin like drymoss.He was short-legged and fat-armed, thick and stumpy, and clad only withgrass about his waist.Merry felt that he had seen him before somewhere, andsuddenly he remembered the Púkel-men of Dunharrow.Here was one of those oldimages brought to life, or maybe a creature descended in true line throughendless years from the models used by the forgotten craftsmen long ago.There was a silence as Merry crept nearer, and then the Wild Man began tospeak, in answer to some question, it seemed.His voice was deep and guttural,yet to Merry’s surprise he spoke the Common Speech, though in a haltingfashion, and uncouth words were mingled with it.‘No, father of Horse-men,’ he said, ‘we fight not.Hunt only.Kill gorgûn inwoods, hate orc-folk.You hate gorgûn too.We help as we can.Wild Men havelong ears and long eyes; know all paths.Wild Men live here beforeStone-houses; before Tall Men come up out of Water.’‘But our need is for aid in battle,’ said Éomer.‘How will you and your folkhelp us?’‘Bring news,’ said the Wild Man.‘We look out from hills.We climb big mountainand look down.Stone-city is shut.Fire burns there outside; now inside too.You wish to come there? Then you must be quick.But gorgûn and men out offar-away,’ he waved a short gnarled arm eastward, ‘sit on horse-road.Verymany, more than Horse-men.’‘How do you know that?’ said Éomer.The old man’s flat face and dark eyes showed nothing, but his voice was sullenwith displeasure.‘Wild men are wild, free, but not children,’ he answered.‘Iam great headman, Ghân-buri-Ghân.I count many things: stars in sky, leaves ontrees, men in the dark.You have a score of scores counted ten times and five.They have more.Big fight, and who will win? And many more walk round walls ofStone-houses.’‘Alas! he speaks all too shrewdly,’ said Théoden.‘And our scouts say that theyhave cast trenches and stakes across the road.We cannot sweep them away insudden onset.’‘And yet we need great haste,’ said Éomer.‘Mundburg is on fire!’‘Let Ghân-buri-Ghân finish!’ said the Wild Man.‘More than one road he knows.He will lead you by road where no pits are, no gorgûn walk, only Wild Men andbeasts.Many paths were made when Stonehouse-folk were stronger.They carvedhills as hunters carve beast-flesh.Wild Men think they ate stone for food.They went through Drúadan to Rimmon with great wains.They go no longer.Roadis forgotten, but not by Wild Men.Over hill and behind hill it lies stillunder grass and tree, there behind Rimmon and down to Dîn, and back at the endto Horse-men’s road.Wild Men will show you that road.Then you will killgorgûn and drive away bad dark with bright iron, and Wild Men can go back tosleep in the wild woods.’Éomer and the king spoke together in their own tongue.At length Théoden turnedto the Wild Man.‘We will receive your offer,’ he said.‘For though we leave ahost of foes behind, what matter? If the Stone-city falls, then we shall haveno returning.If it is saved, then the orc-host itself will be cut off.If youare faithful, Ghân-buri-Ghân, then we will give you rich reward, and you shallhave the friendship of the Mark for ever.’‘Dead men are not friends to living men, and give them no gifts,’ said the WildMan.‘But if you live after the Darkness, then leave Wild Men alone in thewoods and do not hunt them like beasts any more.Ghân-buri-Ghân will not leadyou into trap.He will go himself with father of Horse-men, and if he leads youwrong, you will kill him.’‘So be it!’ said Théoden.‘How long will it take to pass by the enemy and come back to the road?’ askedÉomer.‘We must go at foot-pace, if you guide us; and I doubt not the way isnarrow.’‘Wild Men go quick on feet,’ said Ghân.‘Way is wide for four horses inStonewain Valley yonder,’ he waved his hand southwards; ‘but narrow atbeginning and at end.Wild Man could walk from here to Dîn between sunrise andnoon.’‘Then we must allow at least seven hours for the leaders,’ said Éomer; ‘but wemust reckon rather on some ten hours for all.Things unforeseen may hinder us,and if our host is all strung out, it will be long ere it can be set in orderwhen we issue from the hills.What is the hour now?’‘Who knows?’ said Théoden.‘All is night now.’‘It is all dark, but it is not all night.’ said Ghân.‘When Sun comes we feelher, even when she is hidden.Already she climbs over East-mountains.It is theopening of day in the sky-fields.’‘Then we must set out as soon as may be,’ said Éomer.‘Even so we cannot hopeto come to Gondor’s aid today.’Merry waited to hear no more, but slipped away to get ready for the summons tothe march.This was the last stage before the battle.It did not seem likely tohim that many of them would survive it.But he thought of Pippin and the flamesin Minas Tirith and thrust down his own dread [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]

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