"I believe the River is near," said Merry, as they neared the outcropping that formed an arm of the Wizards' Vale and offered the first true cover of the day.

"Those are welcome words," said Gimli. "I fear my strength wanes and I am in need of rest. When we reach the river, I would beg one indulgence, if you will, Master Merry." He hesitated as they walked with the aid of the full moon's light. "I desire a simple bath. Forgive me for making the suggestion. I know we must make haste, and I will not take much time."

"Not to worry, Gimli. We must reach the River Isen regardless as we need more water. We have not crossed a stream in hours. And our injuries need washing again."

"Yes, but had neither been the case, my need for a river would be just as great. I fear I smell like an orc."

Merry gave him a small smile. "We will spare the few moments to wash the stench of orc from you."

Passing through a small grove, they found a suitable clearing close to the banks of the Isen and made their first full stop since leaving the tower. Merry was glad for the rest, though he fought a strong drive to continue. "Do you think we could risk a fire, Gimli?"

"Are you able to make a smokeless one?"

"Certainly!"

"Very well. I think we can risk it. I will return shortly."

After a time far longer than shortly, Gimli had not returned. The clearing was suitable to camp for the night if Gimli was too tired to go on, but he hadn't mentioned such a plan. Too insecure in their new-found freedom, Merry went in search of Gimli.

With the moon nearly full, Merry found his way easily, following the sound of gurgling water to the shore of the river. Many large rocks were scattered about in the shallows, and Merry looked among them for his friend. But despite the light of the moon, he could not see him. In fact, it seemed nothing about him moved, save for a branch or two swaying in the breeze and the rushing water.

Merry's throat tightened and he chose silence rather than calling out the dwarf's name. Taking a few steps along the beach, Merry soon spied a rock that looked strange-its edges were too soft and round.

Drawing closer, he saw he'd found what he sought. Poor Gimli, exhausted yet ever continuing. But when he had finally stopped moving-he'd fallen asleep! The dwarf snored softly against the rock, fully clothed yet half submerged in the river.

"Gimli," Merry called softly. He called again when Gimli did not rouse.

The dwarf woke suddenly with much splashing and thrashing. "What? Where?" He looked about for a moment, then everything seemed to come back to him. "Merry."

"Yes, Gimli. It seems your bath has turned into a nap."

Gimli looked at the river flowing about him and chuckled. "Indeed. I sunk into the water, and then..."

"It's all right. I had only gotten worried when so much time had passed."

"Worried?" Gimli sounded indignant. "Merry, I have been a prisoner of Saruman, a plaything of orcs, and climbed out of Orthanc. What could possibly stop me now?"

"We are out of Orthanc. I suppose we needn't expect danger to walk up to us on the riverbank. While I'm here, I could wash my hands and feet. I have some cuts that should be cleaned."

As Gimli gave himself a dunking, Merry rinsed his hands. "How long do you think it will take us to reach Edoras, Gimli? If I remember the maps in Rivendell well enough, we aren't nearby, are we?"

After a moment, Gimli answered, "No, we are not. I truly do not know how long it will take. My own memory of the maps tells me we are not close. Nevertheless, we will walk until we reach our destination or we can walk no more."

They made camp for the night. The clearing was well hidden among trees but close to water, and they were too exhausted to go on. They dried off by the fire and laid themselves down for the first true respite in days. Grass was far more comfortable than stone as they prepared for a sound rest.

But despite his exhaustion, Merry slept fitfully. Hours after bedding down, he rolled over once again, wondering that after all their hiding, running, and climbing, he could now lay awake. But he could not release his mind from thoughts of what Pippin might be doing, what Saruman planned for them all, and where the end might find them. When his mind paused from those thoughts, they turned to Aragorn and considered if he were truly bespelled by Saruman. Then he wondered if he might ever see Legolas again and if that were a wise wish.

There were also their surroundings to distract him. As accustomed as he'd become to living out in the wild, it was strange to be there once again after days-which seemed like years-in the depths of Orthanc.

The usual sounds of the night were suddenly unfamiliar, and he had forgotten how pebbles pinched into your back when you slept on rough ground. Merry welcomed even that discomfort, however, reminding himself that each rock meant outside and freedom. He'd accept the rough bed of grass over the pallet among orcs that had been his bed while at Isengard.

And now something else nagged at him, something insistent, seeking to override his other thoughts. It worried at his mind and sent a shiver into his stomach. He almost recognized it, but instead rolled over, much preferring sleep.

He heard Gimli turn in his bed of grass and knew the dwarf was having difficulty finding sleep as well. Perhaps he could ask Gimli if he felt odd. Merry shivered now, though he was not cold, and that too felt familiar. Perhaps Gimli would know. He would probably accuse Merry of hunger, and the hobbit realized he hoped for such assurance.

"Gimli," he whispered, as the odd feeling turned into something more terrible. Instead of a response, a horrible shriek froze his bones and twisted his stomach into knots. Gimli sat up at once. Merry didn't ask him what had made the noise. Only one thing sounded like that.

"Cursed Nazgûl!" Gimli said fiercely. "It seems we have leapt from the roasting spit into the fire."

"How could it find us here? Does it think Frodo is still with us?" Rather than wait for answers, Merry scurried behind a nearby bush as the Nazgûl's beast circled somewhere above and then began to descend toward them. The moon had set, and it was impossible to see its black figure. But the sound of the beast's wings was clear. "It's coming! Gimli, it's found us!"

Gimli grunted with a calm that shocked Merry. "Well, there is nothing to be done. We will have to see what it wants." He stood, and Merry gazed at him as if he had announced he would cut off his beard. "Remain where you are, Merry. The Black Rider may deem one hobbit as good as the next."

Merry had no argument with Gimli. He would gladly watch the proceedings from behind the bush, especially as his legs refused to move. The Nazgûl alit some yards away and slowly approached them, black robes blending with the night. The creature seemed to know precisely where they were-could they see in the dark?

He trembled now as he remembered Weathertop and the Morgul blade that pierced Frodo's shoulder. Most likely this Nazgûl still searched for the Ring. What would he do when he learned they didn't have it? Would he stab them with his blade and leave them to a slow and tortuous death?

Merry thought of the slow torturous death they had escaped hours ago and suddenly grew angry. All that effort would not go to waste! He peered out a bit further from his hiding spot as the Nazgûl drew up before them.

The creature that was once a man was taller than Merry remembered. And the depths beneath his cloak were as dark as ever. The ghostly figure looked at the dwarf. "You are not a Man." Gimli frowned in confusion. "Aragorn, son of Arathorn, a Man," he said slowly, the voice chilling Merry further. "Where is he?"

"Aragorn?"

"The descendant of Isildur. He is to be delivered to Sauron. Where is he?"

Merry's eyes widened as his stomach dropped to his feet. His breathing was suddenly short. Saruman truly intended to hand over Aragorn to Sauron.

Gimli's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Aragorn is a captive of Saruman. I suppose you know this. Perhaps you should inquire of Saruman for your answers. He is yet in Orthanc, to my knowledge."

The Nazgûl stared at Gimli for a long moment-at least it seemed so to Merry, though he could see no eyes. Merry dared not breathe. Would the Nazgûl now decide what he would do with them, as they had nothing for him?

Then, the Nazgûl snapped his head about, towards the southeast, the direction in which they traveled. The Nazgûl released another ear-splitting shriek and ran back to his beast, the interrogation forgotten. Merry watched him fly off as he held onto his ears.

When silence returned and the night appeared as any other night once more, he emerged from the bush and looked at Gimli. "What just happened?"

"I do not know," Gimli said with a deep frown. "I suppose whatever it was, we should be grateful for it. I do not know that the Nazgûl would have let us live otherwise."

Merry shuddered. "Whatever it was, it must be more important than Aragorn. The only thing I can think of that important would be..."

Merry thought of Frodo and Sam, out there somewhere, all alone. What else pursued them besides the Nazgûl? What trials and tortures had they endured? Merry was suddenly overcome with gratitude for the company of Gimli. His own suffering seemed easier to manage.

Gimli looked at him with a deep frown. "So Saruman plans to pass off Aragorn to Sauron, then take over Rohan, it seems, from what Pippin has told you. I doubt the wizard will end his ambitions there. We must make haste to Rohan if we are ever to stop him!"

"Well, I'm certainly not going to sleep again this night. We'll see signs of the sun in the next hour or two. Shall we start our journey early?"

"A fine idea, Master Merry, if you feel you are up for it. I could not find rest now, either. And the Nazgûl knows where we are, so this camp is no longer safe in any case. We must move."

And so they dusted themselves off and began another march.