“Shire…”

Inside the high tower of Orthanc, Saruman muttered the name of that place, his brows furrowed.

“Why would Gandalf be interested in that place?”

According to the reports from his informants, that fellow had been fond of going there over the past several years, almost every year, in fact.

If it were Wayfort, that would be nothing strange, those two were allies, and an occasional visit wasn’t anything worth noting.

But the land where hobbits lived, other than being famous for its pipe-weed and some unique foods, what was so special about it?

He waved his hand and summoned a servant.

“Tell the spies over there to keep a close watch on Gandalf. I want every piece of information about him reported to me.”

“And as for Bree, send people in to infiltrate. I want intelligence from there as well.”

The servant departed.

Some rogues and spies lurking in the forests began their work.

“I’ll keep watching you all, always…”

—

Months after Saruman’s orders…

On the edge of the Bree-land, in a small village, a group of sullen-looking, ill-favored men gathered together, whispering among themselves.

“I’ve confirmed it, the gate security at Bree is practically nonexistent. You can stroll in without a problem.”

“Truly?”

“Absolutely. The informant saw it with his own eyes.”

“Excellent. Then let’s set out. Once the job is done, Lord Saruman will reward us.”

With their plan settled, they headed straight for the region, a place that, contrary to what outsiders might think, was far from desolate and quite prosperous.

Eventually, they reached Bree.

Just as the reports had said, the gates had little to no restriction, anyone could pass through freely.

As they crossed the gate, a guard on the wall glanced at them. Feeling the weight of that gaze, the spies shuddered inwardly, though, true to their professional training, they carried on naturally into the town.

Perhaps it was their composure, or perhaps the guard had only looked at them casually. Either way, they entered without issue.

“How unprofessional. Even the old gatekeeper at Bree would at least ask a token question.”

“Shh, don’t speak carelessly. If someone overhears, it’ll bring us trouble.”

Out of caution, they first found a relatively deserted spot, something like a new district under construction, with only a few half-built houses.

At night, there would usually be few people around.

Of course, “few” didn’t mean none.

—

Days later, the spies gathered again.

One said, “I’ve confirmed it, the iron golems never patrol this area. The city itself has very lax guard presence.”

Another nodded.

“That makes things easier. I’ve also learned that this district has a so-called ‘community representative.’ Every day, he passes through here carrying notes and documents.”

“We’ll find a way to snatch those, then escape quickly. For a first mission, that’ll be enough to report back.”

“The usual method?”

“The usual method. Grab it and run.”

As the spies waited tensely, an older resident came walking by, a notebook tucked under his arm, completely unsuspecting.

“Go.”

At once, they moved.

Moments later…

The world spun, and the spies fell one after another to the ground.

Their leader tried to resist, but was immediately restrained by the “community representative.”

“Don’t move. I’m saving your life.”

A warning whispered by his ear.

“Falling into my hands, you’ll live.”

“Had you made one more wrong move just now, what awaited you wouldn’t have been my fists, but…”

Clang!

Behind them, a shadow over three meters tall raised its arms.

Cold sweat ran down the spies’ backs.

An iron golem, when did it…?

Ordinary scuffles would not concern it.

But just now, it had sensed killing intent, so it followed the trail of that intent and appeared.

“Naive fools… you still thought you could fight me?”

“Before I became a community representative, I was a ranger for five full years. Your clumsy brawling skills aren’t even on par with an orc.”

The commotion immediately drew several bystanders.

Naturally, they stepped in to take charge of escorting the troublemakers, bringing them to the proper authorities.

“Rogue spies, haven’t seen your kind in a while. The last time was in a tavern in Bree. I heard you were driven into the forests to eke out a living. What gives you the courage to crawl out again now?”

The spies remained silent.

“Doesn’t matter if you don’t speak. I’ll just assume you’ve forgotten.”

“But soon enough, someone will make you remember.”

“Ha, look at those faces. You act like being caught was just bad luck, that you just happened to run into someone who could fight, and then even drew the iron golem’s attention.”

“Guess why the guards let you walk right in?”

“No matter what you try, you will always fail.”

“Because you have never faced tens of thousands of orcs, nor beasts so huge that each step makes the earth tremble. You have never felt the terror of the Nazgûl.”

“But those are things I, and most of the people here, have endured.”

“Weren’t you sent to gather intelligence? Very well then, you can spread this message instead: tell your master that the people of Bree are not withering flowers that wilt at the first chill wind, nor tender shoots that survive only under their lord’s protection.”

“Anyone who attempts to invade here will be tracked back to their master, like following a vine to its gourd, and they will pay the price.”

As he spoke, the barracks came into view.

“Work to do.”

The townsfolk pushed the spies forward, shoving them through the gates.

“Help them remember what they came here for.”

“Got it.”

Clang!

The gates closed.

Thus, the very first batch of spies sent into Bree vanished without a trace.

“This world is cruel. Either grow strong, or die.”

Such words spread widely among the spies.

“…But nobody told us that here, even dying is hard…”

“Stop, stop, I’ll talk!”

Not long after, a certain document slipped into the routine reports.

It was delivered into Garrett’s hands.

“He must be looking for another beating.”

“Any other news?”

“Yes.”

A ranger reported: “In the southern Shire, there’ve been some idle types hanging around. They don’t look like locals.”

“Their eyes dart around. Sometimes they watch passing merchants, sometimes they crouch in corners eavesdropping on conversations.”

“When our people walk by, a few bold ones even try to follow us, but usually they end up being tailed in return.”

Garrett asked, “Have they done anything else?”

“They’ve bought a lot of pipe-weed and food.”

“Hm?” Garrett raised an eyebrow.

“Specifically, Longbottom Leaf from the Southfarthing. They’ve purchased quite a lot of it. Also Whitfurrows cheese, Michel Delving sausages…”

As he spoke, the ranger pulled out a long list and handed it to Garrett.

“All the goods taken away by suspicious individuals are recorded here.”

Garrett scanned down the list.

“Nothing but tobacco and foodstuffs… Are these fellows here to spy, or just on a shopping trip?”

“What do you think?” Garrett asked offhandedly.

The ranger thought for a moment, then said, “Years ago, there were also people buying up Longbottom Leaf in large quantities. At the time, we assumed it was just normal trade and paid little attention.”

“But thinking back now, they might be the same group.”

“As for whether they’re true ‘spies,’ or just agents probing into the Shire’s commerce, that’s hard to say…”

“After all, lately all they’ve done is buy up local specialties, then ship them east in bulk.”

—

—

Completed at Chapter 405!

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep