Pippin sat miserably in a stool in the corner, wishing the others wouldn't talk quite so loud as they discussed what to do about his folly. Galion lay asleep on the floor next to him.
"We've lost enough time as it is!" said Frodo. "We can't go back to ask Thranduil for help."
"I can't think what else we
could do, though," replied Merry.
"Master Frodo, could we offer the wine to the Troll?" suggested Sam.
"No, the wine is strong to us, but to the troll it would have little effect. He's already said he's not hungry, and I suspect he's not thirsty either."
"But can't he be reasoned with, then? Would it do any harm, to try talking with him? We may have none too much in our money-purses, but we must have
something we could offer him!" Sam said in frustration. Frodo looked up suddenly.
"Talking... purses..." he muttered. Sam shot an uncertain glance at Merry, who shrugged in bewilderment.
Frodo looked at Merry and Sam in turn.
"It will be tricky," he said, "but I think I have a plan."
*******
The Troll stood in front of Bag-Endless-Fuel, looking blankly at a nearby tree.
If only these hobbits would just leave, he thought to himself. He hadn't lied when he said he was not hungry, and having just eaten a big meal, he rather wanted to rest. But instead he had to stand there, blocking the path, until the little folk paid the toll or went away.
Ah, he thought.
Here they come now to pay up.
Frodo, Merry, and Sam approached the Troll. Sam rolled the barrel of wine ahead of him.
"We've come to offer you this wine," Frodo called.
The Troll scratched his head. "I already told you, I ain't hungry, and nothing but 20 gold pieces is going ter get you past me."
Frodo motioned to Sam, who pulled the crate off to the right-hand side of the path, and began to pry it open. "Just try some, at least," Frodo begged. "It's quite good, from the halls of the Elvenking!" Merry nodded in encouragement.
The Troll shook his head slowly. "That stuff ain't strong enough for a Troll, anyways" he said, sitting down heavily.
"But how else can we get by?" asked Frodo.
"I told yer," said the Troll, slightly confused. "20 gold pieces. That's the toll." He wondered if perhaps the hobbits didn't understand how tolls worked.
"Yes," said Frodo patiently. "But you see, we don't
have 20 gold pieces. If we did, we'd gladly pay you. But as we don't have any gold, and we need to get by, we thought perhaps you see your way to letting us pass."
The Troll paused for a moment. "Nooooo," he said slowly. "I need 20 gold pieces. It's a toll, you see." He shifted his club from one shoulder to other.
This movement frightened Master Samwise, as the club came rather close to striking him on the head. During the preceding exchange, he had snuck as quietly as only a hobbit could, behind the Troll, dragging the barrel of wine with him. As the Troll moved the club to settle it on his shoulder, Sam ducked. He recovered his footing, took a deep breath, and plunged his hand into the Troll's pocket.
"Weren't there more of you?" asked the Troll, sure he had counted three hobbits. He tried to remember what they had been talking about. They had offered him wine - disgusting stuff, from the elves - and, yes, there had a been a third little creature, with a barrel of wine. "Where'd your little friend go?" he demanded.
"Don't you remember?" replied Frodo. "You said you didn't want the wine, so I sent him back inside." He waved his hand in the direction of Bag-Endless-Fuel.
"Oh..." said the Troll.
Samwise, his hand still in the Troll's pocket, used his free hand to pull a cup out of his cloak. Within the pocket, he closed his fingers around something and pulled it out - and, in his hand, was a purse.
"So, you're quite certain there's no way we could just pass by, you know, without paying the toll?" Frodo asked the Troll.
Quickly, Sam dipped his cup into the barrel of wine and, forcing the pouch's drawstring open, poured the liquid inside the purse. The purse, which looked quite ordinary, bunched up at the top, so it seemed almost to be furrowing its brow (although Sam knew it didn't have one). The drawstring pulled tight, then loosened, and emitted an enormous burp.
The Troll looked about in bewilderment. Frodo nudged Merry. "Oh, erm, Excuse me!" the hobbit called.
Sam quickly poured another cupful of wine into the purse, and then another. The purse's drawstring closed and began to open again, this time to hiccup.
"Shh," he whispered to the purse. "We need to borrow some money, but it'll be given right back!"
The purse seemed to consider this for a moment, and then agreed. "O' course, my fine friend. Just give me another (hiccup) sip of that, would you?" Sam hurriedly poured another cupful into the purse's open mouth. The purse sighed contentedly.
"Er, do you mind?" asked Sam in a whisper. The purse's drawstring loosened entirely, and Sam hesitantly reached his hand inside. He pulled out what they needed, then whispered a hurried "thanks," and dropped the bag back into the Troll's pocket.
Meanwhile, the Troll was attempting to explain the toll system to Frodo. "Fascinating stuff," said the hobbit when Sam signalled to him from behind the Troll. But don't you think we ought to close this transaction. Here, give this fine Troll the 20 gold pieces, Merry."
The Troll turned to Merry, and Sam took this opportunity to scurry back over near Frodo, gold in hand.
"Oh, er, Sam has it!" said Merry. The Troll turned back to Sam, utterly confused.
"Here you go, sir," said Sam, stepping forward. The Troll took the money and counted it.
"I thought you took that wine back inside your hill there," the Troll said.
"Yes, I meant to," said Sam, "But I got lost."
The Troll nodded. That, at least, he could understand. He moved aside, and soon Bag-Endless-Fuel was back on its way.
"Well done, Sam," said Frodo. "Now, which way, Merry?"
"I think we'd do best to head
South-West. We can try to pick up the Old Forest Road, and head for Rhosgobel, and then to Beorn's house."