return

the siege of gondor 1057
before, in some half-forgotten time when he had still been a
hobbit, a light-hearted wanderer touched little by the perils
he had passed through. Now he was one small soldier in a
city preparing for a great assault, clad in the proud but
sombre manner of the Tower of Guard.
In some other time and place Pippin might have been
pleased with his new array, but he knew now that he was
taking part in no play; he was in deadly earnest the servant
of a grim master in the greatest peril. The hauberk was
burdensome, and the helm weighed upon his head. His cloak
he had cast aside upon the seat. He turned his tired gaze
away from the darkling fields below and yawned, and then
he sighed.
‘You are weary of this day?’ said Beregond.
‘Yes,’ said Pippin, ‘very: tired out with idleness and waiting.
I have kicked my heels at the door of my master’s
chamber for many slow hours, while he has debated with
Gandalf and the Prince and other great persons. And I’m not
used, Master Beregond, to waiting hungry on others while
they eat. It is a sore trial for a hobbit, that. No doubt you will
think I should feel the honour more deeply. But what is the
good of such honour? Indeed what is the good even of food
and drink under this creeping shadow? What does it mean?
The very air seems thick and brown! Do you often have such
glooms when the wind is in the East?’
‘Nay,’ said Beregond, ‘this is no weather of the world. This
is some device of his malice; some broil of fume from the
Mountain of Fire that he sends to darken hearts and counsel.
And so it doth indeed. I wish the Lord Faramir would return.
He would not be dismayed. But now, who knows if he will
ever come back across the River out of the Darkness?’
‘Yes,’ said Pippin, ‘Gandalf, too, is anxious. He was disappointed,
I think, not to find Faramir here. And where has
he got to himself ? He left the Lord’s council before the noonmeal,
and in no good mood either, I thought. Perhaps he has
some foreboding of bad news.’
* * *