Navelwort had not done as Delioron had advised him. Instead of running he had gone to his home and woken up Joy, his wife. He had started telling her that he would have to go away for a while, and that she should not be worried for him in his absence. He had told her he would leave some coins for her and the children. At that point he had broken down and started weeping, and Joy had understood that she would never see her husband again.
Their marriage had not been a particularly happy one. Navelwort had been often absent and sometimes abusive husband and father, and Joy had grown to despise him over the years, but seeing him so broken and teary-eyed had softened her heart for him.
Joy knew what her husband did for a living, and she had learned a long time ago it was best not to ask questions. It was the best for everyone concerned. All she had asked was where he was going. To Trestlebridge, he had said. He had wept and she had comforted him in her arms for a long time, and then they had made love for the last time. She had packed him sandwiches for provisions. Navelwort had wanted to wake up his children to say goodbye to them too, but Joy had talked him out of it. Instead he had only kissed each of them on their foreheads as they slept in their little beds.
Navelwort was filled with regrets and remorse for the way he had taken his wife and kids for granted, how he had considered them a nuisance and spent every possible moment away from home, getting drunk in the Pony or with his pals somewhere else. How precious they all seemed now that he had lost them forever! He wondered how he could have been so blind that he hadn’t seen the most important thing in his otherwise worthless life until it was too late to be sorry.
Navelwort had hugged and kissed his wife for the last time, and promised to write her from Trestlebridge. And then he had left.
Navelwort was indeed planning to go to Trestlebridge, but he was fairly sure he wouldn’t be out of Sharkey’s reach in that northern village. He would have to go farther. What was beyond Trestlebridge? Maybe they would know there. He had not wanted to go south because all the bad things that had happened to him lately had come from the south. He had not wanted to go east, because he’d been told there was nothing in the east but wilderness and certain death. He had been exiled from the Shire, so he had no business there either.
That only left the north. Trestlebridge and what was beyond it, if anything.
Navelwort had considered stealing a horse from the stables near the gate, but decided against it. The gatekeeper would have seen him, tried to stop him and make hue and cry. Everyone would see him ride towards Trestlebridge, and chase him there. No, it was best to avoid being seen by the gatekeeper at all. Navelwort didn’t trust the Bree Watch, because he knew some of them were on Sharkey’s payroll. But from the stables near the West Gate he could climb on the roof of the gatekeeper’s lodge and slip over the hedge unnoticed.
He had spent hours saying goodbyes to his wife, and he knew it had not been a smart thing to do, but he felt better for having done it anyway. But now it was more than likely people were looking for him already, so he sneaked through alleys and backyards, remaining in the shadows as much as possible until he reached the West Gate stables. It was the late hours of the night; everyone was asleep except, perhaps, the gatekeeper, so he would have to avoid making any sounds while climbing on the roof of the lodge.
”Pssst!”
A dark silhouette who had been crouching behind one of the outdoor stables stood up and stepped into the starlight. Navelwort blanched and his legs felt like jelly. It was Bill Ferny.
”Here you are at last”, Ferny said. ”There’s something I wanted to ask you about.”
”H-how… how did you know I would come here, Bill?”
”Oh, I had a feeling. Some kind of sissy premonition, I suppose. They found Coddle an hour ago, did you know that, Navelwort? He had been gutted like a fish. All his insides on the floor. Whoever did him in was a real nasty peace of work. Did you tell him about me too, huh? Navelwort?”
Navelwort closed his eyes. Cold sweat pushed through the skin of his forehead. His heart was pounding so loud he was sure Ferny could hear it too. ”W-what… what did you want to know, Bill?”
”W-what what but but I want to know? I want the truth, Navelwort. You were seen. A beggar boy came into the Pony with a message for you. Somebody who looked like a foreigner had money for you. Just a bit of business, you said, and that you would be back soon. But you never did return to the Pony. But some time later somebody breaks into Coddle’s house, pours boiling water on him and cuts him open. And yeah, we already talked to the beggar boy. So who is it, and what does he want?”
”P-please, B-bill… I… he never gave me any choice, Bill! He tortured me, he would have cut off my… he would have… what could I have done?”
Ferny took a step closer and tapped Navelwort gently on the cheek a couple of times. ”Here, here, Navelwort. It’s all right. Just tell me everything about this mystery guy.”
”We… I had… a friend. A friend who had something very valuable to sell to this stranger who had come to Bree from the south. He never told me what it was, he just took me as a backup. He was afraid of this guy from the south, y’see, afraid that he would try to kill him I guess. And he did so. Butchered him in his home like an animal!”
”Which friend would that be, Navelwort?” Ferny probed. ”I don’t remember any sudden deaths with your usual crowd. I’m sure I would have heard something.”
”It was… you wouldn’t know him. He was… from the north. One of those Rangers from up north.”
”You have friends among the Rangers now, Navelwort, hmm? That’s very interesting. I wasn’t aware of that.”
”I… I’m sorry, Bill”, Navelwort stammered. ”It’s a long story, but… he gave me no choice! He would have left me to die in the wilderness or killed me or… he left me no choice, he forced me to become an informant…”
”Alright, alright, settle down. So this man from the south who killed your Ranger friend… where is he from?”
”I don’t know. One of those southern towns in the south, I suppose! He… I tried to rob him of his money, but he was too good for me. He broke my nose, and wanted to know what I know! So… I told him about the plan, the kidnapping plan! I had to, Bill, you have to believe me! I had to tell him something!”
”And about Coddle and me, huh?”
”Not initially, I swear! I told him about Sharkey but that’s like having him chase shadows, it’s just a name. A legend. But listen, it gets even weirder. He never told me his name but he gave me some money and asked me to find out about Sharkey and the hobbits. Then, the next morning or the morning after that another southerner comes to my house, asking the same damn questions. He’s dressed just like the first southerner, same brown robes, same accent and all, tells me his name’s Delirion or something like that. He gives me money too and goes away. Then one evening yet another foreigner comes up to me and wants to pay for the same information, said his name was Demdring or something…”
”Three foreigners? Were they all the same group?”
”No, Bill, I don’t believe so”, said Navelwort. ”It was more like they were all competing for the same information. But they didn’t seem so interested about the hobbits. They were more interested in what I didn’t know. I suppose it was something only the dead Ranger knew.”
Ferny rubbed his stubbly chin and frowned. ”This is getting out of hand. All these foreigners suddenly coming to Bree, interested in Sharkey and our plan to kidnap Paladin Took and his family. What’s in it for them? How could they even know about it? Who are they?”
”I know, Bill! And torturing and killing people, it’s getting really bad! Hodhion, and now Coddle…”
”And tonight he wanted to know the rest of it, so you told him about Coddle. Did you tell him about me too, Navelwort?”
Navelwort wrung his hands as his face distorted into an apologetic grimace. ”I’m sorry, Bill, but he left me no choice. I had to tell him, tell him everything I knew…”
Bill Ferny pulled a knife. ”That’s it then.”
Navelwort’s legs collapsed under him and he sunk on his knees. He grabbed the lapels of Ferny’s vest in a desperate attempt to beg for mercy, weeping openly now. ”For the love of the Valar, Bill… for the love of the Valar! Please... have mercy!”
”You knew what I’d do, didn’t you, Navelwort? Hm?”
”But he gave me no choice, Bill! You have to believe me… he gave me no choice!”
”I know he gave you no choice!” Ferny barked as he stabbed Navelwort into his midriff. ”I know!” he yelled and stabbed Navelwort again. The hapless burglar slumped down behind the haystacks, spasmed, juddered and died. Bill Ferny cleaned his knife into Navelwort’s trousers and quietly strolled out of the stables. Ferny didn’t need to worry about the gatekeeper.
The gatekeeper had been paid to hear nothing.
