Chapter 345: Setting Out
"Cooperate?"
Levi actually laughed at that.
"Your master must have cooked his brains in that tower of his. What did he send you for, to die?" he said.
The envoy did not so much as flinch at the open mockery. His manner stayed as mild as before, as if he had heard nothing at all. Bowing his head, he said,
"Please believe that I come with my master's sincere goodwill."
"We are prepared to sign a peace compact with you, and never to harm any city or citizen of the Free Cities. Beyond that, we can offer aid. For example, we can help you find the Balrog in Moria and assist you in slaying it."
"If there is anything else you require, say only the word. I will carry your wishes to my master."
Levi's brow twitched. A spark of interest showed on his face.
"Now that is curious," he said.
"Go on, then. What is it you want?"
Emboldened by the permission, the envoy continued,
"You need not give anything. Only keep watch for certain lost Rings of Power. My master wishes to gather them back."
Levi rolled his eyes.
So that was where this had been heading.
Seeing that he had not been turned away at once, the envoy hurried to press his point.
"According to our reports, one such Ring has appeared in the Shire. A Hobbit is said to have found a trifle, a lesser Ring with weak magic. If you could help recover it, we would be deeply grateful. After that, whatever you undertake will have the support of Mordor and all Mordor's allies."
"I have no interest in bargaining with filth like you," Levi said, flicking a hand, already bored.
"Go back and tell your master this: let him stop scheming, sit at home and wait for his end."
"Now get out of my sight. While my hand is still too lazy to draw my sword, your head can stay where it is."
The envoy choked on his next words.
"As you wish," he said at last.
He dared not speak further. Heart in his mouth, he turned his horse and rode away, watching his back the whole time, half expecting to be turned into a pincushion before he had gone ten paces.
On the wall behind Levi, the guards kept their eyes locked on the envoy until he dwindled and vanished into the distance.
Only then did he let his breath out.
It was a mercy he'd been dealing with this Legend.
Men like that acted in the open; they disdained petty tricks.
Levi wouldn't even trouble himself to glance twice at a life like his.
Later, deep in Mordor, the envoy repeated Levi's words exactly as they had been spoken.
To his surprise, when Sauron heard the insults and jibes, the fires of the Eye did not so much as flicker.
The voice was calm.
"Go," Sauron said.
The envoy bowed and left the hall in silence.
The purpose had been served.
There had never been any need to win Levi over. That had not been in the plan.
The true point of the message was to let him know that a Ring of Power had surfaced. Once he knew that, he would be curious. He would have people search.
And if they actually found it?
No need to fret. After that, the One would handle things itself.
Many had tried to keep the One for themselves, never grasping that it had been forged in darkness and flame, and would always belong to the darkness. It belonged to the hand that had poured most of its might into it. It was part of its maker's own being.
Perhaps, at first, a bearer of great will and power could master it, rule the other Rings, gain strength beyond reckoning, even march into Mordor and claim the Dark Lord's throne for himself.
But in the end, time wore everything down.
Victory was only a question of when.
And if matters went awry before then, if Sauron had to bow as a wretched servant to some new-born Lord of Darkness, or be hunted and torn until he had no body left and had to hide in the cracks of the world—what of it?
He had done as much before.
In the shadows, he spun his plans.
An edge of knowledge often meant power.
This time, though, Sauron was the one a little behind.
In the fortress, Levi turned his back and dropped the whole affair from his mind.
Gandalf would see to things. He trusted—
His step faltered.
—Or perhaps not entirely.
…
"We will hide it. Somewhere no one can ever find it. Somewhere we will never touch it again!"
Bag End, in the Shire.
Frodo, flustered, held the Ring up and stepped towards Gandalf.
"Take it, Gandalf!"
The wizard actually flinched back.
"No," he said.
"Take it away," Frodo insisted, still moving closer.
"No, no. I cannot…"
Gandalf kept backing away, shouting down his own thoughts.
This boy was going to be the end of his self-control.
"You must not give it to me, Frodo," he said.
"I only wanted you to keep it safe," Frodo said helplessly. "I…"
"Do not tempt me, Frodo!" Gandalf cut across him. His voice had sharpened.
Then, as quickly, it sagged.
"I dare not take it. Not even to keep," he said quietly.
"You must understand, Frodo. I would want to use it for good… and through me it would pour out a power of terror beyond imagining."
"When that day came, there would be only one person left in this world with any hope of stopping me. And I have no wish to stand in that place."
Frodo blinked.
He thought for a moment.
"What about Levi, then?" he said. "We could give it to him. He would know what to do."
"Still worse!" Gandalf snapped at once, more sharply than before.
"If he failed that test, he would tear the world apart. I am not exaggerating, Frodo. There is no one who could stand against him."
Frodo's mouth fell open.
"So bad as that?" he whispered.
"We cannot leave it in the Shire either," he went on, gathering himself. "You said the Enemy knows of it now."
"Yes," Gandalf said.
He drew a slow breath and stepped closer once more.
"Yes. We cannot."
Frodo looked from the Ring to him, and something in his face settled.
"What must I do?" he asked.
"Leave the Shire. Go east. Go to Roadside Keep," Gandalf said.
"Will it be safe there?" Frodo asked.
"I do not know," Gandalf answered, shaking his head.
"But Levi will be there. At least no one will be able to take the Ring by force. While we have that time, we can decide what to do with it."
"All right. I will go," Frodo said, and began throwing things into a pack.
Gandalf closed his eyes and sighed.
"My dear Frodo…"
"Hobbits are a marvellous folk," he said. "You can learn all their ways in a month, and yet in a hundred years they will still find ways to surprise you."
Frodo smiled at him, straightening up as if to meet the praise.
Looking at that open, honest smile, Gandalf found himself smiling back.
Rustle…
From the garden outside came the faint sound of movement, grass brushing, and perhaps the catch of a breath.
His smile vanished.
"Down," he said.
Staff in hand, he moved softly to the window, then suddenly thrust it into the hedge.
Thunk.
"Ow!"
There was a crash and a yelp.
Gandalf reached out a large hand and hoisted a plump Hobbit out of the bushes by the scruff.
Samwise Gamgee.