Властелин колец: Братство кольца
A Knife in the Dark
AsFrodolay,tiredbutunabletoclosehiseyes,itseemedtohimthatfarawaytherecamealightintheeasternsky:itflashedandfadedmanytimes.Itwasnotthedawn,forthatwasstillsomehoursoff.
‘Whatisthelight?’hesaidtoStrider,whohadrisen,andwasstanding,gazingaheadintothenight.
‘Idonotknow,’Strideranswered.‘Itistoodistanttomakeout.Itislikelightningthatleapsupfromthehill-tops.’
Frodolaydownagain,butforalongwhilehecouldstillseethewhiteflashes,andagainstthemthetalldarkfigureofStrider,standingsilentandwatchful.Atlasthepassedintouneasysleep.
Theyhadnotgonefaronthefifthdaywhentheyleftthelaststragglingpoolsandreed-bedsofthemarshesbehindthem.Thelandbeforethembegansteadilytoriseagain.Awayinthedistanceeastwardtheycouldnowseealineofhills.Thehighestofthemwasattherightofthelineandalittleseparatedfromtheothers.Ithadaconicaltop,slightlyflattenedatthesummit.
‘ThatisWeathertop,’saidStrider.‘TheOldRoad,whichwehaveleftfarawayonourright,runstothesouthofitandpassesnotfarfromitsfoot.Wemightreachitbynoontomorrow,ifwegostraighttowardsit.Isupposewehadbetterdoso.’
‘Whatdoyoumean?’askedFrodo.
‘Imean:whenwedogetthere,itisnotcertainwhatweshallfind.ItisclosetotheRoad.’
‘ButsurelywewerehopingtofindGandalfthere?’
‘Yes;butthehopeisfaint.
