Strider, he is growing cold. What should we do?" asked Sam, fearful for his master's life.
"He is fading. Soon he will be a Wraith like them. Do you know of the athelas plant? King's foil..."
"King's foil, that's a weed," Sam interrupted as a spark of recognition flowed through his mind.
"It may help to slow the poison," answered Aragorn, trying to sound as sure as he could, before searching the surrounding undergrowth for the herb. The Hobbits needed his strength; he would not fail them too.
Suddenly, he felt cold hard steel pressed against his throat as an amused voice spoke, "What is this? A ranger, caught off his guard?"