"Now," said Thimula once they had left the Bogwaters, "will you please tell me: who is it that's haunting my house? You knew something was there, both of you, and you were afraid of it. I could see that before we even set foot inside, and poor Mr. Gamgee was plainly frightened when we left the Old Place last night. But the ghost you expected to find wasn't the one Selbry described. You asked about white robes, Frodo, and you were surprised to hear about the ghost being a shriveled-up creature with black hair. You told me you'd seen a ghost or two. Did you and your friends see the one wearing white robes when you were here before?"
"We saw him--both of them--but they were both still alive then," Frodo replied carefully.
"Then you know who the other one is too? You can't deny it--I saw the look that went between the two of you."
"Yes. At least, I think it's the same Man, from Selbry's description," Frodo explained. He hadn't wanted to tell her, but there was no help for it. If she was to understand who was haunting her house, she would have to know why Saruman and Wormtongue had come there, and how they had died. "When we broke into the Old Place, there was someone living there. Friends of Lotho's, I suppose you could call them, although in the end they proved to be neither friends of Lotho nor of anyone else, even each other. They are both dead now."
Thimula considered this information. "Are they the ones responsible for his death, and that poor girl's?"
"Yes," said Frodo. "This Man strangled them both, at his master's orders, then killed his master before he died himself."
Thimula looked from Frodo to Sam. "And who killed him?"
"It was Merry Brandybuck who stabbed 'm," Sam told her. "But we was all fighting against them. They had hold of Frodo and would've killed him and every one of us, Miss Bracegirdle, rather'n let us leave that house alive."
"You have had adventures! And you thought they must be behind this haunting, because they died there?"
"I thought it more likely than Lotho's ghost," Frodo admitted. "The other one was a wizard, you see."
"Like that friend of yours in your book--Gandalf?"
"Yes, very much like Gandalf. He was the one wearing white robes. This Man was his servant. His name was Grima, but they called him Wormtongue. He betrayed his own people in a kingdom far to the south, and when his new master lost all, he escaped with him. They came here to hide. They'd had business relations with Lotho, you see. He sold the wizard pipeweed grown on that plantation in the Southfarthing that now belongs to you. Lotho sheltered them and aided them, in hopes of gaining more wealth, prestige, power, in the Shire."
Thimula nodded solemnly. "Yes, that would be very like Lotho. But it ended badly for all three."
"Badly for them, but fortunately for the Shire. They could've done a great deal of damage if they hadn't been stopped," Frodo said. "Thimula, you must see why we've kept what truly happened to Lotho a secret all these years. Aunt Lobelia never knew, nor have Sam or I told anyone else. It's too terrible for hobbits to know how close to ruin the Shire was because of Lotho and his friends. I trust you'll keep our secret."
"Yes, of course," she agreed. "I don't know who I would tell, now that Auntie's gone--and she would never have believed it of her son. But, Frodo, what about my house? Can't this Man's ghost be laid to rest somehow? If he can't be, I shall have to give it up rather than try to live there with him stomping around at night and peering into the rooms."
Frodo heard the disappointment in her voice; Thimula had come to love the Sackville Place already. "We can only try," he said. People were always asking nearly impossible things of him and yet, somehow, he managed to accomplish what he'd been asked to do. He'd once helped to send an Elven ghost that had walked for over a thousand years to rest; might he do the same now, for Grima Wormtongue?
He and Sam discussed the problem in a corner of the common room at the inn after Thimula had returned to the Hodberry farm for some much-needed tea. It was still early in the afternoon and none of the local farm-hobbits was there to overhear their conversation, although the innkeeper had looked skittish when he'd heard the word 'ghost,' and thereafter retreated from the room.
"I will try for Thimula's sake, of course, but I don't see what we can do," Frodo concluded. "Grima Wormtongue's already been laid to rest once, in the Sackville family vault. You and Merry and Pip put him there."
"So we did," confirmed Sam. "We laid 'm out as nice as we could manage. He couldn't've asked for a better resting-place--probably better'n he deserved."
"Well, yes, and he can't expect us to send his remains back to Rohan at this late date. Even if it were possible, King Eomer certainly wouldn't want him buried there, after all the trouble he caused them." Frodo sighed. "There's only one way to find out what he's after."
"What's that?"
"Ask him."
"Ask?"
Frodo nodded. "I know, Sam, that we agreed not to set foot in that house again after dark, but I'm afraid there's no other way. We'll have to go back tonight."
Site Info
We are the home of 1292 authors from among our 2552 members. There have been 2904 reviews written about our 3820 stories consisting of 10734 chapters and 29400445 words. A special welcome to our newest member, Rosamundeb.Categories
Skin Change
Donate
Help us keep one of the oldest running LotR archives available to all. Even the smallest donation helps!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
