1440 S.R., late in the year

1. The Hunter and the Hunted

The hunter followed the faint trail with quickening heartbeat as he gained on his quarry. After a long chase, the trail was definitely fresher; he was getting closer. His belly rumbled with hunger, but he ignored the discomfort, focusing on the trail and the reward waiting at its end.

There, a clear footprint in the mud where the trail crossed a trickle of water. The hunter increased his speed slightly, sure now that the trail he followed was that of a young hobbit. Soon... very soon now, the hunt would end. The youngster was far from home; no one would be near enough to hear a cry for help should he fall into difficulty.

The hunter stiffened as it became obvious that another had joined the trail; another hunter was ahead of him. The hunter’s nose wrinkled in disgust at the heavy scent of musk. The young hobbit might not be waiting for him at the end of the trail after all, for a fox was close on the lad’s heels.

He put on a burst of speed in the dimming light, nearly running now, his tireless hunter’s stride standing him in good stead. His eyes greedily drank the signs left by those passing before him. He nearly overran the trail’s end before his brain registered that he no longer followed the young hobbit’s trail, only that of the fox. He slowed, stopped, retraced his steps to the flurry on the ground that spoke of a struggle, a few smears of blood, a piece of cloth, no more.

He stopped, staring down at the signs that bespoke failure, futility. Wearily, he let himself sink to the ground. There was no need to run anymore, and no hurry to turn back, empty-handed.

The hunter took deep, deliberate breaths. His breathing steadied and slowed as he rested there. He reached out reluctantly, picked up the scrap of cloth, carefully tucked it away. In another moment he’d turn back, but there was no hurry now.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he heard a distinct sniff from somewhere above him, and then his heart leaped within as he caught a glimpse of a small, dirty face that disappeared into a hollow where thick branches met the tree bole. It was evidently the abandoned home of some creature, a fine refuge for a frightened hobbit lad.

Abruptly the hunter rose, but instead of retracing his steps, he began to gather wood, laying it precisely inside a circle of ground that he scraped bare. It was not long before a cheery fire burned there, and the savoury smell of roasting bacon arose from the stick the hunter held. Flames jumped higher, and the hiss of dripping fat promised a coming feast. He thought perhaps the homey smell would entice the lad from his hidey-hole, but he’d misjudged the steel-hard stubbornness that the young hobbit had inherited from his father.

At last, bacon done, the hunter pulled a loaf of bread from his knapsack, broke off a chunk, used it to pull a piece of the bacon from the stick, and took a large bite. He closed his eyes in obvious enjoyment as he chewed, gave a loud sigh, and broke off another piece of bread. There was still no sign from the tree.

Enough was enough. ‘Farry!’ he said, just loudly enough for the sound to reach the hollow. ‘Faramir, come down. I cannot promise to save you a portion if you stay up there; I’m rather hungry from the merry chase you’ve led me.’

‘No,’ a muffled voice said, and the hunter smiled a private smile. The first word had been spoken, the wedge, driven into the wood, that would split the log with enough tapping.

‘Good bacon,’ he said conversationally. ‘You really ought to have some. Come down now, Farry.’

‘I cannot,’ the small voice said, just a bit louder.

‘What was that you said?’ the hunter asked. ‘Is your hole that much better than a fire and food?’

‘I’ve hurt my leg,’ the small voice said plaintively. Instantly the hunter put the food down upon the sack and was on his feet.

‘I’ll help you,’ he said, jumping to grab the lowest branch, not much of a reach for a grown hobbit, but a prodigious leap for the lad. Undoubtedly fear had lent Faramir wings. The hunter pulled himself up and soon reached the hollow. ‘Come lad,’ he said now, one hand held out invitingly.

A small hand nestled in his; he closed his hand over it and drew the lad from the hollow, wincing sympathetically as Faramir’s face appeared, screwed up in pain. The hunter gently lifted the lad out, tucking him securely into the crook of one arm, and then climbed down to the ground.

Laying the lad upon the blanket he’d carried tied to his pack, he handed Faramir a chunk of bread-and-bacon, then bent to inspect the injured leg. ‘Fox got you?’ he asked.

‘Aye,’ Faramir answered, the words muffled by the fullness of his mouth. ‘Just as I jumped for the tree, he jumped for me, but he didn’t get a good grip.’

‘Good thing for you,’ the hunter muttered. He poured water from his bottle onto his kerchief and began to clean the wound. ‘Nasty, that,’ he said. ‘Hope it doesn’t get infected.’

‘Why did you have to come after me, Ferdi?’ Faramir said.

The hunter looked up in surprise. ‘My life would not be worth the living should your father return from Buckland to find you gone,’ he said.

‘He’d get over it,’ the lad muttered, sounding much too old for his ten years.

‘Feeling right sorry for ourselves, are we?’ the hunter said cheerily. ‘I imagine the tune you were singing earlier was “They’ll be sorry”, was it not?’

‘They won’t be,’ Faramir said defiantly. ‘After all, there’s another babe on the way; they don’t need me now.’

‘Farry!’ Ferdibrand said sharply. With an effort he softened his voice. ‘Is that what this is all about?’ he said in amazement. ‘You’re jealous of the babe?’

Faramir ducked his head, but not before the hunter had seen the glimmer of tears. ‘No,’ the son of the Thain mumbled. ‘That’s not it, at all.’ He raised his head, defiance still plain. ‘They’re better off without me.’

This was not going to be quite as simple as he’d thought, the hunter realised. Should he carry Faramir back to the Great Smials in this state, driven by the events of the past few years as he was the lad would run again as soon as his leg healed. He had that cursed Tookish stubbornness that Ferdi himself knew so well. He’d seen it in his relations, in himself, in Farry’s father Pippin. Come to think of it, Faramir had it in double measure from his father and his mother Diamond in the bargain.

‘All right,’ he said slowly. ‘If you’re determined to run away, you had better let me help you.’

2. In for a Penny

Ferdi threw another stick on the fire and shrugged deeper into his cloak. He had wrapped Faramir, under protest, in his own blanket.

‘You came away from the Smials, on your way to Gondor, without even a blanket?’

‘They would have noticed if it were gone,’ Faramir mumbled. In truth, he had managed to make his way out of the Smials without being missed for some hours. At that, the minder had wasted valuable time checking all of Farry’s usual haunts and then all the other places he could think of, before enlisting the escorts’ help. Tolly, head of the Thain’s escort, had come to Ferdi as the best tracker in the Smials, but by then darkness was falling and there wasn’t much point in going out. Ferdibrand had made preparations for the hunt before seeking his pillow, but he was up betimes the next day.

Just before dawn, Ferdi had kissed his wife. ‘Have to fulfill a little commission for the Thain,’ he said.

‘When will you be back?’ Pimpernel asked. She was expecting again, their third such blessing in as many years, but not close to her time, so Ferdibrand felt secure in leaving her this time, not like the time a couple of years earlier when he’d gone after Faramir and ended up missing the birth of their first child.

‘Mmmm, couldn’t say,’ he said. ‘Keep your feet up, my dearest, and I will return to you as soon as hobbitly possible.’

‘Take care!’ she called after him.

He answered, ‘Don’t I always?’ She merely shook her head at him, and he laughed.

‘Rudi,’ he said, catching their eldest, son of Pimpernel’s first marriage and a son of his heart if not his body, ‘Take care of your mum, now, and keep the little ones out of trouble.’

‘I will, Da,’ Rudi said with a grin. It took all of the older ones to keep the littler ones out of trouble, but it was as much fun as it was bother. ‘Where are you off to?’

‘Just a little commission for the Thain,’ Ferdi repeated. With a jaunty whistle, he strode from the room.

He met Tolly in the stables. ‘Everything ready?’ he said.

‘All you asked for,’ Tolly replied. ‘Will you take your pony?’

‘No,’ Ferdi said. ‘The lad’s on foot, it’ll be easier to track him the same way.’ He eyed the other. ‘Keep the roof from falling in, will you?’

‘Right up until the Thain returns and the whole Smials caves in,’ Tolly said glumly.

‘I’ll try to be back before then,’ Ferdi said.

‘O aye,’ Tolly answered. ‘Diamond thinks the lad’s with Pip. What’ll we do if she finds out he’s not?’

‘She had better not find out,’ Ferdi said grimly. ‘Take charge of the post if you have to, stop her letters to Pip and his to Diamond, at least until you hear from me.’ He was in for a silver penny, might as well go for the pound of gold.

Tolly shook his head, clearly unhappy, but then, if all went well, Ferdi’d be back in a day or two with Faramir and no one the wiser, especially if he took the lad on to Buckland to join Pippin, thus giving truth to the lie the escort had told Diamond. Ferdi shook his own head. He would become as false as a ruffian at this rate.

So began the long chase that had lasted nearly the entire day. Another indication of Faramir’s stubborn pride was that he had not turned back when darkness had fallen, that first night.

‘What did you do? Spend the night in a farmhouse?’

The son of the Thain looked down his nose at Ferdibrand, though he had trouble forcing his eyes to stay fully open. The bacon-and-bread, the warm blanket, the cheery fire and the feeling of safety were having their effect. ‘You jest,’ he said disdainfully. ‘They’d know me, or they’d soon figure things out, and then where would I be?’

Back, safe, at the Smials, Ferdi thought but did not say.

‘So what did you do?’ he asked again.

‘Burrowed into a haystack,’ Faramir said grudgingly. Ferdibrand nodded. Warmth, shelter, and safety from predators, there in a farmyard with dogs about, warning off foxes and such, Ferdi might have chosen a haystack himself had he been in similar straits.

‘What did you eat?’ Ferdi asked. ‘You said you’d run out of food by evening.’

‘I milked a cow before the farmer was up, and “borrowed” some eggs,’ Faramir said.

‘That’s stealing,’ Ferdi said flatly.

Faramir shrugged but looked uncomfortable. ‘They’d have fed me had I knocked on their door,’ he defended.

‘Indeed they would have, and that would not have been stealing,’ Ferdi said. ‘You’ll have to pay them compensation for the eggs and milk you took.’

‘I’m not going back,’ Faramir said stubbornly. ‘If you try to take me back, I’ll run away again as soon as I get the chance.’ He would, too; Ferdi could hear the ring of truth in his voice.

‘Well this here food is not stolen,’ he said, ‘so eat up with a clear conscience.’

‘I’m not going back,’ Faramir repeated.

‘Did I say I was taking you back? I said “eat up” and that is all I said,’ Ferdibrand replied, keeping his tone even though he could have given the lad a good shake, or better, turned him over his knee. Farry could have used a bit more of that from his mother and father, as well as happier attentions, but who was Ferdibrand to tell the Thain his business?

Faramir ate, while Ferdibrand considered.

He wondered what the Thain would do to him if he discovered Ferdi’s perfidy, arranging for Tolly to intercept letters between Pippin and Diamond, concealing their son’s flight from them. Would Pip go so far as to throw him out of Tookland, perhaps? That wouldn’t be all bad, he could always go to his sister Rosemary in Woody End.

On second thought, that wasn’t such a bad idea.

3. The Name of the Game

‘Where are we going?’ Faramir asked as they strode along. Ferdibrand’s pack was on Farry’s back, and he in turn was on Ferdi’s back, legs wound about the hunter’s waist and arms about Ferdi’s shoulders.

‘Does it matter?’ Ferdi asked. He could tell the lad was taken aback by the silence that followed.

‘Y-yes, it does!’ Faramir stammered at last. ‘I’m not going back, you know.’ He sounded very determined.

‘Ah,’ Ferdi answered, and there was another silence. Finally he added, ‘Then you’ll be happy to know that we are headed in the opposite direction from the Great Smials, at the moment.’

He felt the lad tense, then relax.

‘Where are you taking me?’ Faramir asked shortly thereafter.

‘I thought we’d pay a visit to the finest cook in the Shire,’ Ferdi said pleasantly.

‘Your sister?’ Faramir said, consternation in his tone. ‘But they’ll know who I am, they’ll tell...’ his voice broke off, but his arms tightened about Ferdi’s neck.

‘Take care,’ Ferdi said, putting up a hand to loosen Farry’s grip. ‘We’ll get on better if you let me breathe.’

‘They’ll send me back!’ Farry said, his voice muffled as he pressed his forehead against Ferdi’s cloak.

‘They won’t if I’m with you,’ Ferdi replied. He felt the small chin nod. ‘So,’ he said, just to make conversation. ‘What is Gondor like, anyhow?’

‘I don’t know,’ Faramir answered.

‘Don’t know?’ Ferdi said in mock amazement. ‘Then whyever are you going there?’

‘My parents spent a year there when I was little,’ Farry answered. ‘I don’t remember much, except it was Big.’

‘Ah,’ Ferdi commented. ‘That’s no surprise.’ He asked further. ‘How old were you?’

‘It was before my Da...’ Faramir’s voice trailed off.

‘Before your Da became Thain,’ Ferdi finished for him. The little body was again stiff against his back.

‘Is that what this is about?’ Ferdi asked more softly, and heard a grudging answer.

‘What?’ he said, and waited, but no further answer came.

‘You’re running away, because you don’t want to be Thain after your father?’ He wished he could see the lad’s face.

‘I’ll never be Thain,’ Faramir replied.

Ferdibrand pondered. Never be Thain. Did Faramir mean that his father would die before the lad reached the age of majority? The succession generally passed from father to son unless there was no male issue, or the son was too young when the father was rendered unable to continue as Thain by death or disability. In that event, the Tooks would choose the best available hobbit, much as the first Thain, Bucca of the Marish had been chosen. This outcome was all too possible, considering the state of Pippin’s health at the moment.

Another possibility was that Faramir felt he’d disqualified himself from the succession, hard to imagine in someone only ten years of age, yet Faramir had gained as much notoriety in his short time at the Smials as any hobbit twice his age or more.

‘That’s a mercy,’ Ferdi said at last, and waited to see what would come of the comment.

It was uncomfortable, he decided, carrying someone who had stiffened his body so.

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

‘You think so, just like everyone else,’ Faramir answered. ‘You think Tookland’s better off without me. Is that why you’re carrying me away without a word against it?’

‘You don’t sound at all like a ten-year-old,’ Ferdi observed.

‘I think a lot,’ Farry replied. ‘I’ve had a lot of time for thinking.’

Ferdibrand was silent for quite a few strides before he asked, ‘So, what is it that you do so much thinking about?’

Faramir didn’t answer.

‘Do you think about the fun you’re not having, because the Tooks are watching all you do?’

‘Fun,’ Farry muttered. ‘You’re still angered with me about the fishing trip.’

Ferdibrand laughed in surprise. ‘Angered?’ he said. ‘Angered? Why in the world should I be? I only missed the birth of my first son, and why was that? Because some hobbit lads thought that they knew more than the foresters who posted signs that a dangerous trail was closed. My friends and relatives thought me dead, drowned, and why was that? Because some hobbit lads thought their fun was more important than their elders’ warnings. It was hardly your fault that the trail crumbled away beneath you, and when I went to save you, it crumbled away beneath me and cast me into the stream…

‘My wife was torn between kissing me and putting me on water rations when I finally appeared before her, and let us not forget the healers who decided to listen to my breathing when they heard how I was half-drowned, and popped me into a bed for two weeks...’ He took a few deep breaths. ‘...but am I angry about it?’ Ferdibrand forced himself to speak lightly. ‘Why, I hardly remember the incident.’

‘You’re the only Took that’s forgotten,’ Farry said, low. ‘Adelgrim died in the stream, and I’m to blame.’

‘You’re not to blame, lad, not fully. Other lads were part of the mischief, and Adel took his own share of the blame, though none will speak ill of the dead.’

‘They speak ill enough of the living,’ Faramir muttered so low that it was a good thing Ferdi had a hunter’s sharp hearing.

‘Folk with sense don’t listen to the Talk,’ Ferdi said, and felt the lad’s warm breath against the back of his neck as Farry snorted. ‘What was that for?’

‘Don’t have to listen to the talk,’ Faramir said. ‘Looks are enough to tell me what they think of me. Worthless son, burden to his parents, a blot on Tookland...’

‘Sounds as if you take after your father in more than looks, then,’ Ferdibrand commented.

‘How dare you speak of the Thain so?’ Faramir hissed in outrage. Ferdi smiled. The lad had absorbed the attitude of the rest of the Tooks in that much, at least.

‘He’d tell you so, himself,’ Ferdi said placidly. ‘He was a wastrel before he settled down. He’d earned any number of names for himself: scapegrace, scalawag, scamp, ne’er-do-well.’

‘He’s a hero!’ Faramir said stoutly. ‘Threw the ruffians out of the Shire, and they say he’s the best Thain Tookland ever had, and...’

‘He didn’t start out that way,’ Ferdi said. ‘You forget, I knew him as a lad. Mischievous, he was. Burned down the old Thain’s stables, you know.’

‘Nearly burned down the stables!’ Faramir snapped. ‘You ought to know, you were there at the time.’

Ferdi actually laughed. ‘Some heroes we were,’ he said wryly. ‘Have you ever heard of such a worthless trick as dying a white pony blue?’ Faramir had no answer, and they continued in silence for a time before Ferdi spoke again. ‘The trouble was, we hadn’t enough to do,’ he said. ‘Nothing worth our while, at least, especially Pippin. Spoilt, he was. What he needed was good, hard work, and problems worth sinking his teeth into.’

He strode along, turning thoughts over in his brain. ‘All right, here’s what we’ll do,’ he said finally.

‘What?’ came the muffled question.

‘I will take you to my sister’s home, on one condition.’

‘What is that?’ Farry asked, a little more clearly. He’d lifted his head and was tense again, listening.

‘You do as you’re told, and don’t speak a word.’

‘That’s two conditions,’ Faramir said.

‘You’re splitting hairs,’ Ferdbrand replied. ‘You do as you’re told, and hold your tongue, and when your leg is healed I will take you wherever you want to go, if it’s in my power to do so.’

‘To Gondor?’ Faramir said. Ferdi was a hobbit of his word, he knew, and if Farry could secure a promise, now...

Ferdibrand took a deep breath. He was not a gambler, and the stakes were awfully high in the game he’d engaged. ‘If that is where you want to go,’ he said. Were he to lose the toss, would Gondor be far enough away to avoid the ire of the Thain? Perhaps he ought to jump aboard a ship instead. No hobbit said to have sailed away on a ship had ever returned to tell the tale. Still, if Ferdi did not play the game the way he saw it laid out, Pippin would lose his son anyhow. This might be Farry’s only chance for reclamation, young as he was; the lad was on the wrong path and running faster with every step. ‘But—‘ he added.

‘But, what?’ Faramir asked.

‘If you disobey whilst your leg is healing, or if you speak one word, I’ll take you directly back to Tuckborough. Do we have a deal?’ He held his breath, waiting, then finally felt the head nod against his shoulder, but then the lad spoke again.

‘I don’t want to go back,’ Faramir said, his voice muffled again. Ferdibrand could feel the lad burying his face in his cloak.

‘Farry, your parents love you very much,’ Ferdi said. Perhaps he could still talk his way around this problem.

He half-expected a denial from a lad who was feeling sorry for himself over his latest punishment for mischief, but instead, he heard a tearful, ‘I know that.’

‘Then why would you go breaking their hearts this way?’ Ferdibrand asked. ‘Do you not love them? Are you not thinking only of yourself?’

‘I do love them,’ Faramir whispered, ‘but I cannot stay and watch...’ He took a shuddering breath. ‘My da will be leaving me, soon enough,’ he finished defiantly. He’d grown up in the shadow of Pippin’s chronic breathing problems—lungs scarred from being crushed under a troll, worsened by a near-fatal bout with the Old Gaffer’s Friend*--growing worse every year it seemed.

‘So your Mum will be well off, will she, with both you and your da gone?’ Ferdi said.

‘She’ll have the babe,’ Faramir said slowly. ‘A new start, someone called it. “It’s too bad about her husband,” they say, “but she’d be better off if that lad were not such a worry to her.” Too bad,’ he snorted, but Ferdi could hear the hurt in his tone.

Silently, Ferdibrand cursed the Talk. Gossip was more of a blot upon the Smials than any wayward son of a Thain. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘I see that you are set in your course. Do we have a bargain?’

‘We do,’ Faramir said, his young voice firm.

***

*Old Gaffer’s Friend: Shire term for pneumonia

Chapter 4. The Game of the Name

‘Well, well, what have we here?’ Hally Bolger said as Ferdibrand strode into the clearing with his burden. ‘Brought one of your lads for a visit?’

‘Not one of mine,’ Ferdi answered. ‘This-un’s a stray I picked up in the woods. It's anybody's guess where he comes from or who he belongs to, and he won’t speak a word, in the bargain.’

‘That’s a nice knot in the log to bounce an axe off of,’ Hally observed. ‘Hurt, as well, I see.’

‘O aye,’ Ferdi answered. ‘When I found him he was but one jump ahead of a fox.’

‘Looks as if the fox got him,’ Hally said.

‘That fox didn’t, save a slash on the leg, but this Fox did,’ Ferdi jested, referring to the name he’d gone by in the long fight to keep the ruffians out of Tookland during the Troubles.

Hally laughed. ‘Well you’re late for tea but I imagine Rosemary can find you some crumbs,’ he said. ‘Come in.’

‘Ferdi!’ Rosemary called from the washstand, where she and her daughters were just finishing washing up the tea things.

‘Rosie!’ Ferdi called back.

‘You’re late,’ she chided. ‘You usually have better timing and arrive whilst the scones are still hot.’

‘Your scones, cold, are better than anyone else’s fresh out of the oven,’ Ferdi said. ‘Have you a place where I can put down my pack?’

‘Is it one of your lads?’ Rosie said, peering closer, but Faramir kept his face buried in Ferdi’s cloak. ‘Fredevar?’

‘He’s picked up a stray,’ Hally said, hanging up his axe. ‘Same size as Freddy, but Ferdi says he’s a foundling.’

‘A foundling!’ Rosemary said. ‘Ferdi, are you serious?’

‘Completely,’ Ferdi said. ‘I found him in the wood, no trace of his family. He near made a meal for a fox, and he won’t speak a word, so I brought him here, since I was on my way to visit anyhow.’

‘Lay him down here,’ Rosemary said, leading to one of the beds in the corner of the kitchen. The woodcarver’s family had outgrown the bedrooms built onto the house and Hally had not yet got a new room added on.

Ferdi crouched before the bed and eased Faramir backwards and down. The lad hid his face in his arms.

‘Come now, laddie,’ Rosemary coaxed, trying to bring the arms down. ‘Let us see you now.’

‘He’s a bit shy,’ Ferdi said.

‘As I’d be, had I only strange folk surrounding me and my own nowhere in sight,’ his sister said sharply, then softened her tone. ‘Come, lad.’

Behind the screen of his arms, Faramir shook his head.

‘Leave him be,’ Ferdi said. ‘He’s tired and overwrought.’

‘He can hardly eat with his face hid,’ Rosemary argued.

‘Rose, let him alone,’ Hally said. ‘Come now, who wants to take a walk to settle their tea?’ There was good sense in the woodcarver; he knew the lad was likely to hide as long as a circle of curious Bolgers stood about staring.

‘You go ahead,’ Ferdi said. ‘I’ll keep watch here.’

‘Very well,’ Rosemary said reluctantly. She warmed the teapot, then dumped out the water to add tea and boiling water, cosied the pot, set out two mugs, milk, sweetening, plates, knives and a platter of scones, a little crock of butter and another of preserves. ‘You just help yourselves.’

‘Thanks, Rose,’ Ferdi said, with a kiss for her cheek, then, ignoring the lad on the bed, he sat down at the table and began to fix a scone to his liking.

‘Keep half an eye on the stew?’ she said, following her family out the door. ‘If it starts to boil with too much vigour, just swing it out a bit so that it’s not directly over the fire.’

Ferdi swallowed a tender, crumbly mouthful and said, ‘I’ll watch the stew.’ A delicious smell from the kettle promised fine things to come.

‘Rose!’ Hally was heard to call from the yard.

‘If there’s anything else...’ Rosemary said, turning back at the door.

‘I’ll tell you when you get back, if I think of anything,’ Ferdi said, nodding at her to go. She went.

Ferdi poured out two mugs of tea, adding a little milk and a spoonful of honey to his (Hally valued his coin too much to spend it on sugar, when he could have honey for free), and generous amounts of milk and honey to Faramir’s, then helped himself to another scone.

Farry kept his arms over his face awhile longer, just in case one of the family should come back for some forgotten item, then rose from the bed and limped over to the table.

He nodded thanks to Ferdibrand, helping himself to scones and sipping at his tea, smiling wryly to find it fixed to his taste. Ferdi did everything right, it seemed. He was a discouraging companion for one running away from failure.

Farry was careful not to make a sound. No doubt Ferdibrand was waiting for the smallest excuse to carry him back to the Great Smials. They ate in companionable silence. When Farry was finished, he rose from the table and turned back towards the bed, his leg hurting like fire.

‘Take your dishes to the washstand,’ Ferdi said quietly. The lad’s shoulders stiffened; he was not used to doing servants’ work. To his credit, however, or perhaps only because he was mindful of their bargain, he picked up his plate, knife, and cup and limped over to the washstand, depositing the dishes there.

When he turned back, Ferdi said, ‘Go ahead, wash them. The water ought to be warm, still.’

Faramir looked down at the two basins, one filled with soapy water and the water in the other relatively clear. He picked up the dishcloth, took up each item in turn, washed it in the soapy water, rinsed it, set it aside. The water was pleasantly warm on his hands and wrists. He finished, wrung out the dishcloth, hung it where he’d found it, and turned to Ferdi.

‘Dry them,’ Ferdi said from the table, where he sat sipping his tea. ‘Put them away, you can see where to hang the mug, and the plate goes on the shelf above with the others.’ Farry complied, silently congratulating himself when he found the knife’s resting place without prompting.

‘Good,’ Ferdi said. ‘You may lie down and rest the leg now if you wish.’

Farry nodded ironically, since he couldn’t say “Thanks” with just the proper amount of sarcasm, couldn’t say it at all, as a matter of fact, and limped to the bed. He was careful to turn towards the wall and put his arms up to hide his face just in case the family returned. He heard Ferdi pour more tea, the clink of the spoon in the cup, a cautious sip of the steaming liquid. Just before he fell asleep, he thought he heard Ferdi get up from the table, and then the quiet splashing of washing-up. He did not hear the Bolgers return from their walk, nor did he realise that, as he relaxed in sleep, his arms came down, leaving his face in sight.

***

The Bolgers returned, Rosemary shushing the children and shooing them out into the yard again when she saw the lad was asleep. The dishes were washed up and put away, the cloth was on the table, the washbasins had been dumped on the rosebushes outside the door and hung up to dry. Ferdi was sitting in the rocking chair by the fire, carving something from a piece of firewood. She was glad to see the fire was nicely mended, the kettle in just the right place to cook but not burn their dinner.

‘How was your tea?’ she said softly. She crossed to the bed, noting that Ferdi had pulled the coverlet up over the sleeping figure, inhaling sharply at her first sight of the lad’s face.

‘Ferdi!’ she said. ‘Why didn’t you say you had the son of the Thain with you?’

‘Son of the Thain?’ Ferdi said in surprise, rising from the chair to walk softly over to the bed. ‘Aye, there is a resemblance. This one’s older, though, he’s taller than a ten-year-old would be.’

‘Faramir Took is taller than most lads his age,’ Rosemary said, eyeing her brother suspiciously. ‘He takes after his father.’

‘Well Diamond told me that Farry went off to Buckland with his father, so unless something’s happened to the Thain, ‘tis difficult to imagine why Faramir would be in the middle of nowhere being chased by a fox, can you?’ Ferdi had to tread very carefully, as Rosemary had the same talent for sifting truth from error as he had himself.

‘You’re telling me this is not Faramir Took?’ Rosemary said slowly.

‘How could it be?’ Ferdi shrugged. Thus far he had said naught but truth, half-truth though it be, but Rosemary watched him narrowly all the same.

‘I do not know,’ his sister said shrewdly, ‘but I suspect you are not telling me the entire truth.’

Ferdi made a face, not trusting himself to speak. He was saved for the moment by a stir from the bed. Faramir awakened, and seeing himself under scrutiny, pulled his arms up over his face again.

‘Come lad,’ Rosemary coaxed, plucking at his sleeve. ‘I’ve seen your face, and it is not ill-favoured, so do not hide it away. What’s your name?’

Faramir slowly and reluctantly lowered his arms, to be rewarded by a smile from the woodcarver’s wife. ‘That’s better,’ she said. ‘It is a remarkable resemblance, Ferdi, but of course you’re right. There is no way the son of the Thain could be out in the wood without an escort, about to be eaten by a fox. The Tooks take too much care for that ever to happen.’

Ferdi smiled and nodded reassuringly at the lad.

‘What shall we call him, then?’ he said. ‘I do not think he’d fancy “Hoi, you there!” though he might learn to answer to it well enough.’

‘We could try to guess,’ Rosemary said.

‘It would be a long, hard game unless we were lucky enough to hit it on an early try,’ Ferdibrand replied. ‘Since he looks like the son of the Thain, why don’t we just call him “Farry” for the nonce, until he unlocks his tongue and enlightens us?’

‘Would that be all right? Farry?’ Rosemary asked warmly, cupping the lad’s chin in a gentle hand.

Faramir looked to Ferdi, then back to Rosemary.

‘He doesn’t seem to object,’ Ferdibrand observed. To the lad, he said, ‘We’ll call you “Farry”, then, until a better name suggests itself.’

Chapter 5. Truth, Half-Truth, and Outright Evasion

Supper at the Bolgers’ table was crowded, cheerful, and noisy, save the eddy at the corner of the table where Farry sat eating his silent meal. He had bowed shyly to his host, nodding his thanks since he could not speak them. Hally gravely accepted the gesture, urging him to be seated. The conversation ranged from one topic to another, mundane matters such as firewood, chores, and whether the winter, already upon them, would be mild or harsh this year. Farry heard the occasional murmur that was not meant to reach his ears.

‘He looks just like I remember Farry Took, but why won’t he speak?’ Robin whispered to his father with a worried glance at the visitor. ‘Is he under the Ban, d’you suppose?’

‘Nay, Rob,’ Hally answered easily. ‘A lad his age, barely into his teens? Hardly! And besides, were he silent because he’s under sentence of shunning, he’d discourage us from speaking to him, knowing the penalty.’

Farry kept his eyes on his plate, aware of Robin’s scrutiny, as well as that of the other children. They had played together on the Bolgers’ infrequent visits to the Great Smials, and it was all too likely they would see through the deception. He began to suspect that Ferdi’s condition of silence was inspired by prudence rather than malice or an attempt to trick him into going home peaceably.

Rosemary kept the plates filled until the talk began to run low as stomachs filled and sleepy thoughts ran slower.

‘Sun’s seeking her bed, and so must we soon,’ Hally said finally, folding his serviette and putting it into its intricately carven ring. The others followed suit. Robin stood up from the table and gathered all the serviettes, placing them neatly on a shelf to await the next meal, while his sisters cleared the table, carrying all to the washstand where Buckthorn was adding hot water to the basins, ready for washing. Another brother had taken up the broom and was sweeping the floor, while others headed out to their evening chores in byre and yard.

Farry sat and watched until Ferdi gave him a poke. ‘I do believe our young friend can dry dishes with the best of them,’ he said. ‘We washed up after ourselves after tea, you know.’

‘I noticed,’ Rosemary said. ‘Exemplary guests you are. Come, Farry!’ she said, holding out a towel. Farry rose slowly and limped over. ‘Does your leg pain you so?’ she asked. Farry shook his head with vigour. His leg was getting better. Of course it was. Why, he ought to be all healed and ready to leave on the morrow.

‘I washed it well and bound it up,’ Ferdi said, rising from his place. ‘You might want to look it over before we go to our rest.’

Hally said, ‘That’s a good idea, Rose. Let the lad dry dishes, to pay for his supper, and then we’ll take a look at the leg.’ He looked to his brother-in-love. ‘Ferdi, how about a pipe?’

‘Perfect end to a good meal,’ Ferdibrand replied, and the two sauntered out to smoke and watch the stars appear above the clearing.

They listened to the cheerful bustle within, quietly puffing away, before Hally spoke again.

‘He really is Faramir, isn’t he?’

Ferdibrand smoked in silence, deigning not to answer.

‘Ferdi, does the Thain know he’s here?’

Ferdi took his pipe out of his mouth, examined it closely, shook his head.

‘Does he know the lad is with you?’ Hally pressed softly. His family were all busy about their chores; there was none to hear, for which he was grateful. He began to feel the stirrings of alarm. Ferdi was acting unlike himself, serious, uncommunicative. Why, the Ferdi he remembered from their last visit to the Great Smials had nearly talked his ears off, had been full of lively jests and frequent laughter.

‘You’ve taken him from the Smials, without his parents’ knowledge or permission? Ferdi, there’s a name for that, though I cannot tell you what it would be... it’s the sort of thing the ruffians did, but hobbits do not do.’

‘Kidnapping,’ Ferdi said quietly. ‘The Thain told me about it, how Men steal folk away for one reason or another.’

‘Are you... ked... kad...’ Hally stumbled over the unfamiliar word.

‘Kidnapping?’ Ferdi supplied helpfully.

‘That’s the word. Is that what you’re doing?’ Hally asked uneasily. It didn’t sound like something Ferdi would do, but then, Ferdi was not acting at all like himself.

‘Not exactly,’ Ferdi said.

‘And what does that mean?’ Hally persisted. He knew how close-mouthed Tooks were with any but their own, when it came to serious matters. Though he could spin stories all the day and into the night, Ferdi might not tell his own sister the time of day, now that she was married to a Bolger, if he didn’t think she needed to know.

‘I cannot tell you, Hally, for it is between the Thain and his son.’

‘But the Thain isn’t here,’ Hally argued. ‘How can it be between...?’

‘I am keeping him safe, Hally, and that is all you need to know.’

‘What are you keeping him safe from, is what I’d like to know!’ Hally said, then lowered his voice. ‘Ferdi, if I didn’t know you better I’d say you’d gone off your head. This is madness! Taking the Thain’s son without his knowledge--’

‘I didn’t take him,’ Ferdi said.

‘Then how would you say you came by him?’ Hally retorted. Ferdi was silent. He wanted to tell Hally, but the scandal of the Thain’s son running away was sure to hurt Pippin; folk would think him cruel, or weak, at the very least incompetent to rule his own family, much less Tookland. The best thing would be to convince Faramir to return to the Smials of his own volition. This whole incident could be passed off as a boyish lark, like the ill-fated trip Faramir and his ne’er-do-well cousins had made to the abandoned mine; at least, Ferdi hoped it could be.

‘I rescued him from a fox,’ he said.

‘And then you brought him all of forty miles, to my home,’ Hally said.

‘Your home is more than halfway to Buckland,’ Ferdi said smoothly.

‘Ah,’ Hally nodded, reassured. ‘You’re going on to Buckland in the morning then.’

‘Not exactly,’ Ferdi replied.

‘It makes me nervous every time you say that, brother,’ Hally said, eyeing him suspiciously. ‘What do you mean now?’

‘I want to give the leg time to heal. I do not want to bring the lad to his father, bleeding.’

Hally nodded. He could see the sense in that. ‘So why doesn’t he talk?’

Ferdi shrugged. To tell of his bargain with the lad would be to give away the secret that Farry had run away. ‘Lads are stubborn,’ he said. ‘Perhaps he has a wager on with a friend.’

‘Funny kind of wager,’ Hally muttered. From the lad’s wariness, he’d almost think Farry was afraid of Ferdi, somehow.

‘Perhaps you can coax him to talk,’ Ferdi said. ‘You’re right, it’s not natural for a bright and lively child to be silent for any length of time.’  He took his pipe from his mouth and knocked out the ashes. ‘Shall we go in?’

They went back into the kitchen, where washing up was just finished, and Hally raised his voice to call out, ‘All right, you lot, ‘tis time to seek our beds.’

‘Aw, Dad!’ the young Bolgers chorused in disappointment.

‘But what about our story?’ Buckthorn put in.

‘Story?’ Hally said, affecting surprise.

‘We always get a story while the fire burns down!’ little Pick said.

‘O the story,’ Hally said, slapping a hand to his forehead. ‘Of course.’

The Bolgers settled themselves around the fireplace, littlest ones on the hearthrug, bigger ones pulling chairs close, Hally in the seat of honour, the rocking chair by the fire.

‘Now let me see, where were we last...?’ Hally said forgetfully.

‘The Fox and the Badger!’ Buckthorn shouted, and Ferdi snorted.

‘Surely you’re not filling their heads with a lot of stuff and nonsense,’ he said. He discouraged talk of his deeds during the Troubles. Whenever asked, he always demurred. He didn’t know that Hally had begun telling the tales to his children; if he had known, he’d have offered to do the storytelling himself this night, keeping to safe topics like Mad Baggins and his talks with dragons.

‘It really happened,’ Robin said earnestly. ‘It’s why you never came to see us during the Troubles.’

‘I saw you, right enough, lad,’ Ferdi said quietly. ‘You just didn’t see me, is all.’

‘He used to creep in under cover of darkness, for a bite and a bit,’ Hally said softly, ‘and he’d look in on you sleeping, and take his bit of news and go off again.’

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ Robin said.

‘What you didn’t know, you couldn’t let slip,’ Ferdi said.

‘I’d never tell!’ Robin said indignantly.

‘If the ruffians knew you had an uncle from Tookland who visited regularly, they’d’ve watched the house a whole lot closer than they did,’ Rosemary said.

‘As it was he got caught in the end,’ Hally said soberly.

‘Did they throw you in the Lock-holes, Uncle Ferdi?’

Ferdi met Hally’s gaze. It was not common knowledge, these days, that towards the end, before the hobbits had risen up against their oppressors, the ruffians hanged the worst troublemakers, when they could catch them. The hobbits who’d lived to bear the scars never talked about how they were acquired, and other hobbits were too polite to ask. Ferdi had been rescued from the end of a rope before it was too late, though he’d bear the mark of the rope to the end of his days.

‘I escaped,’ he said, ‘with a little help from the Badger. Your father was there, too, wearing a hood on his head, and a nice little group of hooded hobbits they were who spirited me out of the ruffians’ clutches.’

‘Hurrah!’ shouted Buckthorn.

‘Father, how did you gather the bits of news for Uncle Ferdi, anyhow?’ Robin said. ‘The neighbours all thought you were in league with the ruffians. I remember how they stopped coming round for tea and a chat, and we never went to them, neither.’

‘Either,’ Rosemary corrected.

‘Well, that was the beauty of it, you see,’ Hally said, leaning back while Ferdi smiled and relaxed. They were off the subject of the “Fox”, which was fine with him. Hally continued, ‘The ruffians thought we were in league with them as well. They were always coming round to sample your mum’s fine baking, and they’d bring sacks of flour and other foodstuffs so she could cook for them, and there was extra to feed you children, so it was a good bargain all round.’

‘How could you?’ Parsley asked, shock in her tone. ‘How could you feed them? When hobbits were going hungry?’ She had been very small during the Troubles, and had now only dim memories of the time. The ruffians had found her quite charming, and talked to her freely while her mother bustled about, to all appearances too busy to take notice of what was said, though all the time Rosemary was listening intently.

‘Ah, but they relaxed when they ate, you know, and the talk ran freely. We were able to gather up the bits and crumbs that fell and pass them on to the Tooks and Brandybucks, y’know...’ Hally went on to tell how the unguarded talk gave warning to the Tooks as to where the ruffians would strike next in their attempts to enter Tookland. The Tooks would lay traps, the ruffians would be stymied, and Tookland would remain free of ruffians.

‘And Uncle Ferdi took the news back to Tookland?’ Buckthorn asked.

‘Not only took the news back, but laid many of the traps himself,’ Rosemary said proudly. Ferdi shook his head and mumbled something dismissive, and she laughed. ‘ “It’s just like snaring a coney,” you used to say,’ she chuckled. ‘ “An awfully large coney, at that.” ‘

Hally noticed his littlest ones nodding; Pick was asleep, leaning against his mother’s knee. ‘Fire’s burning low,’ he said, sweeping the room with a stern glance. ‘Off to bed with the lot of you!’

There was a disappointed chorus, but the little Bolgers obediently took themselves off to their beds. Hally and Rosemary lifted the littlest ones and carried them off, crooning a lullaby in sweet harmony.

When Hally came back into the main room from tucking in his littlest lads, he saw Ferdibrand walk over to the door and take his blanket from where it was bound to his pack. Ferdi shook it out and laid it before the hearth.

‘What’re you doing?’ Rosemary asked, emerging from the girls’ room. She had directed Farry to lie down upon one of the beds in the corner of the kitchen and now unwrapped the bandage around his leg.

‘Getting ready to sleep,’ Ferdi said. ‘You’ve no extra beds, it seems.’

‘Then let the lad sleep there,’ Rosemary said. ‘You’re the Thain’s special assistant, and he’s merely a foundling with no rank to speak of. He should not take precedence over you, Ferdi, it wouldn’t be proper.’

Hally caught Ferdi’s eye and raised an eyebrow. The son of the Thain should not take precedence over a hired hobbit? It ought to be laughable, but he didn’t feel like laughing. Worry stirred in the back of his mind once more, and he firmly pushed it down.

‘He’s injured,’ Feribrand argued. ‘Let him have the bed.’

‘Now, Ferdi,’ Rosemary scolded. ‘We may live plainly but we know what’s proper.’

Ferdi nodded, resignedly. If he were to play out this charade, the proper thing to do to avoid exciting further suspicion would be to have Faramir sleep on the floor before the hearth.

Rosemary gave the wound another thorough washing before binding it up with fresh dressings. She was sympathetic to the lad’s pain, but ruthless in her assessment and treatment. ‘Such a bite is no joke,’ she said sternly. ‘We must avoid infection if we want it to heal quickly.’ The lad bore her ministrations stoically after that. He certainly wanted it to heal as quickly as possible, as well.

6. Musings in the Dark before Dawn

Ferdibrand awakened suddenly, as was his wont, and looked immediately towards the hearth. He relaxed to see the lad still there, evidently asleep. He had half-expected Farry to disappear in the night.

He cradled his hands behind his head and stared up at the drying herbs hanging from the rafters. A week was not a long time, to accomplish what he was aiming for. He was a fool of a Took to have made such a bargain with the lad; he ought to have hauled Farry back to the Smials by his ear, and thought no more about it. No, no, Diamond was expecting, and he did not wish to upset her in her delicate condition, after she’d lost an earlier child. The thing to do would have been drag the lad to Buckland, to his father, though Ferdi had never been as far as the Brandywine River in his life. There was always a first time, he mused grimly. Gondor was a world further away, and somehow he was sworn to accompany this lad there if his wild plan failed.

Why couldn’t he just do the sensible thing?

Faramir awakened slowly, feeling as if he were under scrutiny. Without moving, he half-opened one eye, and saw Ferdibrand looking towards him in the dim light of the turned-down lamp. He quickly closed his eye again. He had vaguely formed a plan of getting up in the night and easing himself out of the door and on his way, but it was a vain hope. Ferdi would only track him again, find him, take him back. He was stuck with this bargain. He wondered how long it would take his leg to heal, as much as a week? A week seemed forever. He cracked an eyelid to look at Ferdi again, glad to see the hunter staring at the ceiling instead of himself. He stretched the injured leg cautiously, rewarded by a stab of pain on top of the steady throb. That would not do at all. Perhaps he could pretend that the leg was better than it was. If he could convince Ferdi that his leg was healed, they could be on their way.

Ferdi was thinking it over again. He thought of the restlessness that was a part of Tookishness, of Tooks who’d run off in story or legend. Bilbo Baggins, for one; Thain Peregrin, for another, his own cousin Pip and father to Faramir. Further back there was at least one Took who was said to have run off to the Sea never to be seen again. Ferdi dealt with his own restless nature in more practical ways, spending his energy on hard work, pony racing, hunting and stalking, fierce loyalty to the Thain, and deep love for his own Nell and their children.

Faramir’s energy needed to be channeled into some practical direction, or the lad would be driven away by Tookish restlessness, his gifts wasted. Pippin was too deep in the affairs of the Shire to notice his son drifting away, too busy with the demands upon the Thain. To be brutally honest, Pippin had too little energy to raise his head from the row he was plowing and look about him.

No, this was the only course that made sense, if Farry was to be saved. Ferdi glanced over at the bundle of blankets on the hearth once more, settled deeper into his own covers, and fell asleep again as suddenly as he’d wakened. A part of him, the hunter-part, remained alert and aware, listening for the slightest stir.

In the other room, Rosemary lay unsleeping, listening to the snores of her husband. What in the world was Ferdibrand up to? Surely the lad was Faramir Took; if not, the resemblance was uncanny.

She knew Hally was unhappy with the state of affairs, though he’d said little enough to her about it. She’d be worried herself, did the lad seem frightened, but no, he was more wary than fearful. Truth be told, he reminded her of young Pippin under the stern eye of his father Paladin, pinned to duty when his entire being squirmed to be free, riding or running or hunting or breaking out in mischief.

So what was her brother up to? Why would he take the lad from the Great Smials, and say nothing about it, even to his only sister?

Hally stirred and muttered in his sleep, then turned over, snores quieting for the nonce. Rosemary ought to take advantage of the quiet to fall asleep, but her brain kept nibbling at the problem like a mouse finding a carelessly left-uncovered hunk of cheese too large to pick up and carry away.

The thought struck her that perhaps Ferdi had not carried the lad away after all. What if Farry had sought to leave, like his father before him, though Pippin had been quite a bit older and more likely to survive running off and had not gone off alone in the bargain. Perhaps Ferdi had followed him, coming in time to save him from the fox, and then brought him here. Why, then, the secrecy?

Truly, it would be a scandal for the son of the Thain to run away. Perhaps Ferdi was simply waiting for the lad’s leg to heal – a few days, perhaps as much as a week -- before taking him back to the Smials, hushing things up by pretending it wasn’t Faramir Took at all but some lad he’d found in the woods. He’d sworn the lad to silence to minimize the talk.

Rosemary blessed the fact that she had married into the more stolid and sensible Bolgers. There were not many adventurers up that family tree, though Fatty had shown a surprising streak when he’d led a band of rebels against the ruffians during the Troubles. Hally was a solid rock to cling to, suffering no nonsense from anyone, despite the fact that he’d shown remarkable tolerance for the restless nature of Rosemary’s brother. Rosemary draped an arm over her sleeping husband, snuggled closer, and sighed.

But why not simply say the lad was Faramir and be done with it? A plausible enough story would be that he was taking the lad to Buckland to join his father and visit his Brandybuck cousins. On the other hand, for Ferdi to admit that Farry had been injured by a fox while under his wing would be as much as his position was worth... and how in the world could that have happened?

Rosemary sighed again and sought a new position. The only solution she could see to this mess was that Farry had run away and Ferdi had caught him, and was trying somehow to bring the lad around, so that Faramir would return to the Great Smials of his own volition. The more she looked at the situation in this light, the more convinced she became that she had sifted truth from error. Very well then, if that was what her brother was about, she’d go along, and give him as much aid as she could.

She turned over and went to sleep.

7. Just an Ordinary Morn

Faramir awakened slowly, not knowing where he was for a moment. There was a hard surface beneath him – he was sleeping on the floor! Though he’d expect to be cold in such a circumstance, he was toasty in his blankets. Indeed someone had added another blanket as he slept. He heard the stir of others rising, and then a hand touched his shoulder.

‘I’m sure Farry will be happy to fetch wood for the fire, Rose,’ came Ferdi’s voice behind him, and Faramir remembered where he was, in the home of the Bolgers, Ferdi’s sister’s family, in Woody End. Farry remembered, too, the bargain and held his tongue, though he shot a glare at Ferdibrand. Ferdi only chuckled and patted him on the shoulder, saying, ‘Robin will show you the woodpile, just bring in armfuls until he tells you it’s enough.’

‘Let me check the leg, first,’ Rosemary said firmly, turning up the watch lamp, taking it from the window and bringing it close. She was pleased at its progress, and said that Farry could walk about a bit today to keep it strong.

‘He can put it to good use, then, helping with chores,’ Ferdi said, getting up from the floor. He swayed and put a hand to his head.

‘What is it, Ferdi?’ Rosemary asked, fastening the bandage on Farry’s leg.

‘It’s nothing,’ Ferdi said, straightening, but Rosemary fixed him with a stern glance. She knew the truth when she heard it, and her brother was lying to her. He was having one of his spells of head pain again, she realised, but as she opened her mouth to speak, he shook his head slightly. Let it go.

Reluctantly, she desisted, turning instead back to Farry. ‘Off you go with Robin, he’ll show you what to do,’ she said lightly.

And so it was that once again, Faramir found himself doing a servant’s work, though it was not half so onerous as he’d feared; all the Bolgers had chores to do and bustled about cheerfully, jesting and laughing in the lamplit room as the wind howled about in the darkness outside. Faramir was relieved to come in out of the wind and deposit his last armful of wood, and then Robin showed him how to lay a fire and spark it to life with flint and steel.

Soon the fire burned merrily. Farry was sent to the well with Buckthorn to haul buckets of water, and before long, Rosemary was stirring handfuls of meal into a pot of water for porridge, while her oldest daughter uncovered the bread that had risen through the night, and began to shape it into loaves. Things looked promising indeed for early breakfast, but just as the aroma of the baking bread began to tickle his nose, Farry was sent out again with Robin to milk the cows.

‘You’ve never milked a cow?’ the tween said in astonishment, watching Farry’s fumbling attempts. Farry had managed to get milk out of a cow once before, but it had been feel-and-fumble at best. He shook his head, colour rising in his cheeks. He felt right useless... he’d done more work in the past hour than he did in a whole day back at the Smials.

Robin did not taunt him for his ignorance, as any Took might’ve, but simply showed him the trick and got him started sending streams of milk into a bucket. ‘Watch this!’ the Bolger lad called, gesturing to an expectant cat. When he saw Farry looking, he tilted the teat he held and sent a stream of milk through the air. The tween and the son of the Thain laughed to see the cat sit up on its haunches to catch the treat. Another cat was watching Farry, and he found with a little practice he could direct the stream right to the open mouth.

Somehow they managed to finish the milking with a fair amount in the buckets, though the cats went away full and satisfied. They’d catch no mice that day, choosing instead to snooze in the hay in the loft.

Bringing the buckets in to Rosemary, they found the table set and smelled bacon frying, but then it was out to the byre again to finish cleaning stalls and caring for the animals. Farry nearly forgot himself a few times and talked back in response to Robin’s jests, but he remembered just in time and held his tongue.

Finally the work was done and Took and Bolger raced each other from the byre to the house, where they jostled with the other Bolger lads to wash up and take their seats around the long table. Rosemary and the girls were placing platters of food along the table’s length, and soon all was ready. Hally took his place at the head of the table, and Farry rose to make his bow.

‘That’s all right, lad,’ Hally said easily. ‘As long as you work with the family, you can be a part of the family and don’t need to bow and scrape as if you were a mere guest.’ He glared at his brother-in-love. ‘Now Ferdi, on the other hand...’

‘He’s family!’ Robin shouted, and the rest laughed.

‘Ah,’ Hally said, mollified. ‘I have it on good authority that you are family, Ferdi, so you needn’t bow and thank me for the meal you are about to partake.’

‘My thanks for that,’ Ferdi said dryly, and all laughed again as Hally pretended to glower at him under his eyebrows.

‘I said, no thanks necessary,’ he said sternly, and Ferdi threw up his hands in surrender. Niceties attended to, the hobbits fell to the serious business of eating, filling their plates with crispy bacon and eggs fried to a turn, fresh-baked bread and butter churned from their own cream, preserves from the harvest of berries growing in the woods, and bowls of porridge laced with cream and honey.

Farry ate and listened and smiled, and Ferdi watched him with secret satisfaction. No need for Diamond to nag the lad to eat at this meal; he ate enough for any two Bolgers, appetite stirred by his early labours, relaxed and happy in the warm, loving company around the table. No one was preoccupied with matters of business, no one answered a child’s query with an absent look, and any correction to errant table manners was offered with warmth, not sharpness, for no one was concerned with keeping up appearances, or annoyed by childish interruptions.

After breakfast, all hands were set to clearing the table, washing up, drying and putting away, scrubbing the tabletop and laying the cloth, sweeping the floor. When the room had been set to rights, Rosemary beckoned to Faramir.

‘Sit down at table, lad, rest your leg,’ she said. ‘You may watch our studies; perhaps you’ll learn something as well.’

Faramir was surprised to see chalk and slates brought out, as well as a few precious books. Many hobbits didn’t know their letters, including Hally as it turned out, but Rosemary, while living in the Great Smials, had been taught and now sought to pass on her knowledge to her children. Under her direction, the children worked sums, spelled words and wrote sentences from dictation. Then they took turns reading from a book of stories, passing it from hand to hand. The littlest read only a sentence or two, the middle ones made their way through a paragraph each, while the older ones each read an entire page until all had read. Rosemary took the book then and read to the end of the chapter while her older daughters served elevenses to all.

‘Very nice,’ Hally said, putting his mug down and getting up from his chair by the fire when story and elevenses were ended. ‘Well, I must needs tramp the woods and cut a few trees; will you come with me, Ferdi?’

Ferdi smiled and agreed, taking up his cloak. His head was still bothering him, but he wanted to stay on Hally’s good side, keep his brother-in-love’s suspicions from being aroused. Farry would be safe enough here; he could hardly slip away with a houseful of Bolgers watching him.

His last glimpse of Faramir as he followed Hally out the door showed him Rosemary sitting the lad down on the bed again and stretching out his leg to change the dressing.

8. More of the Same 

Ferdi and Hally were gone the rest of the day, to Faramir’s surprise. Rosemary caught him glancing at the door as they sat down to the midday meal – later than late nooning at the Smials; Farry calculated that it must be nearly two in the afternoon. ‘It’s all right, lad,’ she said. ‘Undoubtedly they shot some game and roasted it on sticks over a fire. They know how to fare away from hearth and hole.’

Farry nodded, tucking in to his own excellent plateful of home cooking. He thought of his own miserable efforts to feed himself after his food ran out. Stealing was the only way he’d been able to fill his belly: a fine state of affairs for a lad making his own way in the world, he grumbled to himself. 

After the table was cleared, washing up done, and all was once again tidy, there was time free for play. These Bolgers didn’t play like the Tookish cousins Farry preferred to spend his time with, each trying to best the others in contests of wit or brawn, or seeking out mischief for a lark, or thinking up ways to shirk necessary tasks, or sitting in glum or sullen boredom.

Robin was carving a farm for the littlest Bolgers. Already he had several cows, a team of plow ponies, some tiny chickens and tinier chicks. He was working now on a rooster, and the three littlest ones crowded round him, eyes wide, commenting in whispers on the comb and wattle and mouth opened “just like he’s a crowin’, even now!”

Buckthorn was constructing a byre for the wooden animals out of sticks from the kindling pile. The two middle lads had used a half-burned stick to trace a game board upon the hearthstones, and were playing at Kings with pebbles for pieces. The oldest girl was knitting a bright scarf, and the middle girl was sitting on the hearthrug with the youngest, sewing an apron for the little one’s doll.

Farry found himself drawn into the play with the little farm, consulted on just where to place each animal, and he found himself grinning at the littlest lad’s enthusiastic crows as that one pretended to fly the cock to perch atop the little byre. From where he sat, he could see the game of Kings come to a finish and another game begin without fuss or bother. It seemed as if in this home, the winner didn’t gloat and the loser didn’t pout, they simply set up for another game and were soon hard at it.

No, it was not at all like the cousins whose company he preferred, back at the Great Smials. It should have been terribly dull, like spending time with Ferdibrand’s family, “goody” Rudi and the rest, but instead it seemed peaceful, and purposeful, and anything but boring.

Rosemary watched the lad unobtrusively as she sat in the rocker with her mending, her needle never pausing in its journey even as her thoughts ran along busy lines. Surely this was the son of the Thain in their midst, though he did not look down his nose at their humble pursuits. Indeed, he took part as heartily as the rest, but silent still. Why was that? she wondered. He didn’t seem frightened, but why did he not speak? And why was Ferdi hiding away here in Woody End with the lad? He hadn’t sent a message to the Thain as she’d expected. What in the world was her baby brother about?

Parsley, the eldest girl, set down her knitting and rose to put the kettle on for tea. The other two girls rose from admiring the effect of the finished apron adorning the doll and laid the table, whilst the lads tidied away their toys and tools. Soon they were sitting around the table again, talking, laughing, passing a plate of biscuits.

Farry found himself surprised once again. Tea at the Great Smials was a substantial meal, why, even if it was just sandwiches and teacakes, it was ten kinds of sandwiches and six kinds of cake. Biscuits might be served as an afterthought, for the purpose of filling up the corners after the meal, but to have biscuits alone for tea?

After tea, it was time for chores again. He helped Robin with the milking and taking care of the animals in the byre, and he helped Buckthorn chop more wood, then brought in armloads to lay by the hearth. By the time the chores were finished, it was time for supper, and Hally and Ferdi had returned from their work in the woods. This was more like it, hot pork pie, steaming under its flaky crust. The sun was seeking her bed outside, and at the Smials they’d be having a light meal, eventides, and then the children would be sent to bed. Farry had been allowed to stay up for late supper on special occasions, but he was used to being sent off after eventides, and so it was not much of a shock to him to see the Bolger children getting ready for bed. What was a shock was seeing the adults making ready, as well.

The children clamoured for a story from their uncle. Hally had seen in their time cutting trees together that Ferdi was having one of his bad days, though Took that he was he hadn’t said a word in complaint. Now Hally took charge and spun a tale of his youth in the woods, and how he’d met Rosemary when her family’s coach had broken down on the Stock Road.

‘What a beautiful creature she was,’ he said, his eyes faraway in recollection, ‘I hardly had the presence of mind to say two words to her.’

‘You did say two words at that,’ Rosemary laughed. As the children pressed eagerly for more, she added, ‘I sneezed, and he said, “Bless you.” And that was all he said!’ She smiled fondly at her husband.

‘But more of the story will have to wait,’ Hally said, ‘for it is full dark outside now, and time to blow out the lamps. Off with you, now, all of you! This tired woodcarver needs to seek his own bed.’ He and Rosemary shooed the children off to their beds, and then Rosemary came back to look at Farry’s healing wound and put on a fresh dressing.

‘It is healing nicely,’ she said. ‘In a few days, I think, you’ll hardly have anything to remember that fox by.’ She noted the glance Farry shot at Ferdi, saw her brother shake his head, saw the lad drop his eyes. “Not yet,” Ferdi seemed to be saying. Not yet... what?

Chapter 9. Rising Suspicion

Ferdi’s head was no better the next day; as a matter of fact, it was bad enough that he had difficulty gathering his thoughts. Rosemary noticed how unsteady he was as he rose from his bed, and despite his attempts to put her off, Ferdi found himself seated at the table, steaming cup of steeping herbs at hand, while the Bolgers bustled about their morning chores.

‘It’s naught,’ he mumbled again as his sister stopped to rest a hand on his shoulder and urge him to drink. ‘Just a weather ache, is all.’

‘There’s a storm blowing in, for certain,’ Hally said, stopping on Ferdi’s other side.

‘Feels to be a big one,’ Ferdi said, rubbing his hand across his face, massaging his temple, willing the ache to subside, which of course it did not. Ferdi had learned over the years that he must wait out the ache, for some days if need be. Once this weather change had passed them over, the ache would be gone. He clung to that knowledge, even as the pain in his head blew the thought to tatters. At least he was safely at Hally and Rosemary’s. The Bolgers would keep an eye on Faramir for him, for certain. They would not let anything happen to the son of the Thain while Ferdi was under the weather.

‘Drink,’ Rosemary urged again, and Ferdi lifted the cup to his lips, making a face at the taste. He drank down half the contents of the cup before his stomach rebelled.

‘No more,’ he whispered, shoving the mug away, and Rosemary understood. She knew about Ferdi’s bouts with head pain whenever a large weather change came, reminder of a ruffian’s club at the Battle of Bywater, compounded by the effects of a fall during a pony race years later. He would not be able to eat, or do much of anything, until the fit passed.

‘Why don’t you sleep it off?’ Hally said quietly. ‘We can put you in one of the bedrooms, close the door, keep the children quiet for the day.’

Ferdi started to shake his head but thought better of the gesture. ‘Farry,’ he said.

‘We’ll keep an eye on the lad,’ Rosemary replied soothingly.

‘Do you have a pencil, and a bit of paper you can spare?’ Ferdi whispered. Rosemary squeezed his shoulder and went to seek out a piece of the precious stuff; as a matter of fact, what she brought back was the last leaf from one of Ferdi’s letters to her. He’d filled only half that page before ending the letter, folding it up, sealing it and writing the direction on the outside blank paper.

‘Will this do?’ she asked. He nodded, tried to smile his thanks, took the pencil and paper from her hand and smoothed the page on the table. Parsley called to her mother with a question and Rosemary turned away as her brother began to write.

Ferdi wrote quickly despite his fragmented thoughts; he didn’t want anyone pausing to read over his shoulder, after all. He informed Tolly that he’d found Faramir, that they were safe in Woody End. He wrote of Farry’s injury, and that he’d continue as planned when the leg was healed. He hesitated, then wrote, “Keep the secret as long as you can.” He looked at the words, dissatisfied, but the ache in his head made it hard to think clearly. He licked the tip of the pencil, rubbed his head, and finished, “Should the Thain hear of this, and descend upon Woody End, I fear the consequences.”

He had a week yet, before the Thain was due to return to the Great Smials. He wouldn’t even be writing this note but for the fact that he feared his head would prevent his taking the lad on to Buckland as soon as he’d planned. He folded the paper to leave the outside blank and wrote “Tolibold Took, The Great Smials” upon the front.

Hally still stood behind him, having watched him write. Ferdi had no worries about spilt secrets; he knew that Hally had never bothered to learn to read. Now Ferdi turned and handed the folded missive to his brother-in-love. ‘Can you see that this gets to the Great Smials?’ he asked.

‘I’ll take it to the Stoat and Stout myself,’ Hally said, naming the nearest inn. ‘From there it can go by post.’ He was relieved that Ferdi was sending word to the Thain about his son. His worry had grown the previous day, when Ferdi made no move to inform anyone of his whereabouts, but now he was satisfied.

‘Make it quick post,’ Ferdi said, digging in his pocket.

Hally stayed his hand. ‘You can pay me for it later,’ he said. ‘I’ve enough coins for a quick post rider. You take yourself off to bed now, brother, before the children notice somewhat’s amiss with you and plague the daylights out of you trying to offer comfort.’

***

When Farry came in from morning chores, smiling at one of Robin’s funny stories, he saw no sign of Ferdibrand. Hope and dread stirred in him together. Perhaps Ferdi had taken himself off to the nearest inn, to send word to Farry’s father by post. This might be Farry’s best opportunity to get away, but it also meant his chances of escaping were diminishing rapidly. Of course he could ask no questions, but he listened closely as he sat down with the family to breakfast, and soon his questions were answered.

‘Hush, children,’ Rosemary said, as the plates were passed. ‘Your Uncle Ferdi is having a bad spell.’ Farry caught the glances towards the closed door, and realised that Ferdibrand had fallen ill, incredible as it seemed. His father’s special assistant hardly ever missed a day of work, or so it seemed to Faramir. There was a murmur of concern, but Hally assured the children that their uncle would be fine, he just needed quiet to sleep this day, and that was all.

Better and better, Farry thought. When the Bolgers were busy, he’d make himself busy as well. He could take a loaf from the sideboard, baked fresh this morning and set aside for a later meal. A chunk of cheese might be possible, and failing that he could stop by the shed where he’d seen hams hanging up and slice off a fair portion to take with him. Now that he knew how to milk a cow, he’d be able to find sustenance along the way, at least while he was in the Shire. How he’d eat once he passed the Bounds, now, that was a problem he didn’t care to contemplate. Perhaps he could hire himself out to one of the caravans of traders travelling the Great South Road. He found he didn’t mind hard work, not the way the Bolgers did things, with laughter and song. He had yet to hear any grumbles here.

It was easier to plan than to put into practice, he discovered. Whenever Faramir looked at Hally, he found the woodcarver looking back at him. After breakfast, Hally shouldered his bow and announced he was going out hunting, inviting Robin to come with him. The tween grinned, then said, ‘Can Farry come?’ It would be a treat for the poor little foundling.

‘I’d like that leg to have at least another day’s rest before he walks any distance,’ Rosemary said, having just finished that morning’s examination. Farry frowned. That did not fit his plans at all. Rosemary misread the frown and laughed, tousling his hair. ‘You’ll be going out to hunt before you know it,’ she said reassuringly. Farry ducked away from her touch. She thought about it later, and it bothered her. Why was the lad so wary?

Faramir noted that the bedroom door remained closed the rest of the day. Rosemary went in twice with a covered cup, emerging each time to tell the children that their uncle was resting and that he thanked them for their consideration in remaining quiet.

Though Robin and his father were gone, Buckthorn stuck to Faramir like fletching on a finely crafted arrow, through the teaching, elevenses, noontide chores, midday meal, time for play. During play time, Farry was happy to stay close to the hearth. Despite the bright fire, he felt chilled, and when time for afternoon chores came, he was reluctant to go out with Buckthorn. Of course he made no protest, but he shivered as they went out into the cold. All was still; no breeze stirred the trees about the clearing, but the sky was sullen and unsmiling above.

‘There’s a storm blowing up for certain,’ Buckthorn said soberly. ‘We’d better make sure we shut up everything fast. Wouldn’t want a cow to blow away, now, would we?’ He chopped extra wood and directed Farry to carry many more armloads into the house than on the previous day. Farry’s muscles protested this treatment; he was sore from all the unaccustomed exercise of the previous day, and there was an additional ache deep in his bones, which, together with the chill he felt, made the chore more onerous.

***

Ferdibrand slept restlessly in the soothing dark and quiet of the shuttered room. He drank down the herbs his sister brought him and settled back to sleep again. Several times when he wakened, he did not know where he was, and one of the times Rosemary wakened him to drink healing herbs, he stared at her in confusion until he remembered where he was and how he’d got there.

Though Rosemary carefully schooled her expression before returning to the children, she was alarmed. She had never seen Ferdi laid so low by one of his bad spells. She wondered whether they ought to send for a healer, but in truth, what could a healer do but advise quiet and rest?

Toward afternoon, Ferdi dreamed that Farry had run again, and he was tracking the lad while threatening black clouds followed close behind him. He could see Faramir ahead, and increased his pace to catch the lad, but his feet were mired in the muddy ground and the harder he tried, the heavier his feet grew. He opened his mouth to shout, but the rising wind tore his words away.

Suddenly he was there, where he’d seen Faramir last, on the bank of a stream, with no sign of the lad. He heard a laugh, and looking down, saw Faramir in the stream, floating along with the current. He saw the lad’s aim; he’d float to the Brandywine and down to the Sea, from thence to Gondor. It was all wrong, of course. Hobbits didn’t belong in water. He called a warning, but Faramir grinned back at him. ‘I’m all right!’ he shouted cheerily. ‘Da always said I could swim like a fish!’

As a matter of fact, something odd was happening to the lad. His skin was shining with more than water. Before Ferdi’s horrified gaze, the lad’s skin turned to silver scales, the merry gaze became a blank stare, and in the space of a breath a great fish wriggled free of Farry’s clothing, slapped its tail at Ferdi and slipped downstream.

‘No!’ Ferdi shouted. ‘Farry, no!’ He waded into the stream, his feet numbed by the icy water. He had to get the lad back. How would he ever explain this to Pippin? He stumbled, and looking down, saw to his horror that his own feet were beginning to gleam with a silvery sheen...

‘Ferdi?’ Rosemary’s calm, questioning voice broke into the dream.

Ferdibrand started up from the bed, his eyes wild. ‘I have to find Farry!’ he panted. ‘I must not lose him this way.’

‘Lose him?’ Rosemary echoed, bewildered.

Ferdi thrust her aside, stumbled to the door, stood swaying as he swept the room with an intense gaze. ‘Where is he?’ he demanded.

Just then the outer door opened to Buckthorn and Farry, arms full of wood. Ferdi relaxed to see the lad. ‘Not in the stream, then,’ he muttered. The Bolgers shot startled looks at their mother, who had crossed to take Ferdi’s arm. She didn’t miss the wary look that Farry gave her brother, and she began to wonder if he had good reason to fear Ferdibrand. Her brother was certainly not acting like himself.

‘Come, Ferdi,’ she said now, tugging at his arm, making her voice as soothing and gentle as she could. ‘Come and lie down. I’ll bring you a cool cloth for your head.’

He resisted a moment, his eyes fixed on the lad, then put his hand to his head. ‘Aye, Rosie,’ he said faintly. ‘I think I will lie me down awhile longer.’

10. Worries and Alarms

At the same time Ferdibrand was composing his letter to Tolly, another note was being written in the study of the Master of Buckland.

‘I cannot believe Farry would be involved in such mischief,’ Meriadoc Brandybuck, Master of Buckland was saying as Thain Peregrin blotted the page.

‘He was,’ Pippin said, carefully lifting the paper to funnel the glistening sand back into its well.

‘His father did much worse, as I recall,’ Berilac, Merry’s steward said with a grin. ‘Didn’t you nearly burn down the old Thain’s stables, Pip?’

‘Did I?’ Pippin said blandly. ‘I thought that was some other Took.’

‘In any event, you’ve decided Farry’s been punished long enough, I take it?’

‘I think so,’ Pippin said. ‘I still have a week’s visit planned here, and Farry was hoping to see his friends and cousins in Buckland again. This note will come as a surprise to him; he thought he wouldn’t be allowed to come at all, this trip, after the stunt he pulled.’

‘You’re sending it by pony post, I assume,’ Merry said, referring to the service he and Pippin had set up between Brandy Hall and the Great Smials. It was expensive, maintaining fast ponies at each inn along the Stock Road, but the pony post had paid for itself on more than one occasion.

‘Yes, it ought to reach Tuckborough well before teatime,’ Pippin said. ‘Why, they’ve not even served second breakfast yet.’ Just then a tap came at the door.

‘Ah,’ Merry said. ‘Second breakfast has arrived as we speak.’

‘This will still reach the Smials before teatime,’ Pippin said equably. He folded the paper, dripped sealing wax upon the join, and sealed the missive with his ring. ‘There, it’s official now. Seal of the Thain and all.’

‘When do you expect Farry to arrive?’ Merry asked. Seeing Pippin’s grin, he cocked his head to one side. ‘What is it?’

‘If he leaves fairly soon after the message arrives, he ought to be here by late supper,’ Pippin said.

‘You intend to have your son delivered by the pony post, as if he were a parcel?’ Berilac said in amusement.

‘Takes no more trouble to saddle two ponies as it does one,’ Pippin said. ‘If the messenger tells the innkeepers to have two ponies ready for the return trip, it ought to make for an exciting ride for a lad of ten.’

‘You spoil the lad,’ Merry said, shaking his head.

‘I do at that,’ Pippin replied with a chuckle. He held out the message, and Berilac rose from his desk to take it.

‘I’ll give the messenger your orders,’ Berilac said. He bowed and left the study.

Merry cocked an eye out the window. ‘Weather’s looking a bit chancy,’ he said.

Pippin looked out as well. ‘I see clouds, is all,’ he said, ‘typical weather for this time of year. No sign of an ice storm, at least.’

‘Yes,’ Merry said thoughtfully, looking at the thin ice edging the River’s banks. ‘It’s cold enough for snow, but too cold for sleet, I think. The roads are dry, I’m told, and travel ought to be fast. I don’t like the look of the River, though.’

‘What do you mean?’ Pippin said. Merry was a worrier, of course. Pippin was in a good mood, having concluded a satisfactory trading agreement with the visiting Bree-hobbits, and he didn’t mind humouring his cousin.

‘It’s too calm,’ Merry said. ‘There’s no wind, whatsoever, and that’s not usual for this time of year.’

‘Too calm!’ Pippin said. ‘How could there be such a thing? With the Ferry still running, you cut twenty miles off the journey to the Smials.’

‘I don’t like it,’ Merry said.

‘Ah, well,’ Pippin replied. ‘It’ll speed my message to Tookland, and it’ll speed my son to Buckland, so I’ve no complaints.’ He took the cup poured out for him by the deferential servant and sipped the strong, hot tea.

‘Eat,’ Merry said, but Pippin laughed and shook his head.

‘Not you, too, Merry,’ he said. ‘It has been a lovely holiday, not having to stuff my face to please Diamond. When Farry gets here, I’ll have to start up again, eating more than I can bear, lest he take a tale back to his mother.’

‘Eat,’ Merry repeated implacably, ‘or I’ll be the one taking tales back to Diamond.’

‘You wouldn’t,’ Pippin said in consternation.

‘Don’t try me,’ Merry replied, his face stern.

Reluctantly, Pippin took up a buttered scone and bit into it. ‘You’re as bad as Estella,’ he sighed.

‘No I’m not,’ Merry said. ‘You eat what’s put before you, or I’ll set Estella on you and you’ll find out just how bad things can be. She’s ten times worse than Diamond, I’d wager.’ He patted his belly in silent testimony to his wife’s obsession with feeding the hobbits near and dear to her.

Pippin shook his head, but Merry was glad to see his cousin clear his plate like a proper hobbit should.

***

Reginard Took opened the sealed letter and scanned the contents. Seeing his eyebrows knit themselves together, his brother Everard asked, ‘What is it? What’s the matter?’

Reginard looked up at the messenger. ‘Go and get something to eat.’

‘Yes, sir,’ the messenger said, and left the study.

Reginard waited until the door closed behind him, then said slowly, ‘Pippin writes to me to send Faramir to him at Brandy Hall.’

‘But Farry’s already at Brandy Hall,’ Everard said, confused.

‘So I was told,’ Regi said, his face settling into grim lines. He rose from his desk, walked over to the door of the Thain’s study and jerked it open. Haldegrim Took, the escort on duty, stiffened to attention. ‘I want to see Tolly,’ Regi said abruptly.

‘Yes, sir,’ Haldegrim replied, and turned on his heel.

‘Why would Tolly say that Faramir was in Buckland, if he wasn’t?’ Everard said.

‘He said that Ferdi was taking Faramir to Buckland to join his father,’ Reginard corrected. ‘It appears that they never arrived.’

Everard inhaled sharply at the implications of that statement. ‘What do we do?’ he asked.

‘First, I want to find out exactly what Ferdi told Tolly before he left the Smials,’ Reginard said. ‘I assumed he’d take the Stock Road, but perhaps he planned to stop off somewhere. As soon as we have some idea of the route he’d have taken, I want to mount a search. We’ll tear Tookland apart to find the lad if we have to.’

‘What’ll we tell the Thain?’ Everard said apprehensively. ‘What’ll we tell the Mistress?’

Reginard rounded on his brother fiercely. ‘We tell Diamond nothing! Do you want to upset her, in her condition?’

‘Of course not,’ Everard said, ‘but you know how the talk is... she’ll find out eventually.’

‘Send Pimpernel to attend her,’ Regi said, ‘along with any other sensible Tooks you can come up with. Pearl... Lavender... and Tansy, for starters. Diamond’s so miserable at the moment, with the all-day-long sickness, that I hope she won’t notice if we limit her visitors to those who have little use for the talk.’

‘What could have happened to Ferdi? It’s only a two-day trip to Buckland, after all.’

‘I don’t know,’ Regi said. ‘Perhaps he broke a leg and is lying in a ditch somewhere.’

‘We can only hope,’ Everard said. His attempt at humour fell flat, however, as Regi stared him down.

‘How do I tell the Thain his son--his only son--is missing?’ Regi said.

‘I cannot believe that anything bad could happen to the lad if he’s in Ferdi’s keeping,’ Everard said, trying to calm his brother.

‘If,’ Regi grated. ‘Anything might have happened. Ruffians...’

‘What about the King’s edict?’ Everard said.

His brother gave him a bleak look. ‘Men know that the Thain of the Shire has a hoard of gold,’ he said, ‘and Men will do terrible things for gold. If somehow they had word that the son of the Thain was travelling with a small escort, only one hobbit, they might—‘

‘You don’t think—‘ Everard broke in, but Regi was nodding slowly.

‘Ferdi could be in a ditch, all right, or somewhere in the woods in a shallow grave,’ he said grimly. ‘The next note to arrive could well be a demand for gold in return for the lad.’

‘No,’ Everard breathed.

Regi looked at him soberly. ‘Pippin told me of such things happening in the world of Men,’ he said. ‘He feared it might happen here; that is why he does not allow his family to travel without some sort of escort, though he scorns such protection for himself. This kind of thing is one of the reasons for the King’s edict, to protect hobbits from Men’s greed, as well as to protect us from acquiring Men’s habits.’

He shook his head. ‘I only hope I’m wrong about this,’ he said quietly. Everard nodded soberly. He was in full agreement.

Chapter 11. Fat’s in the Fire

‘You called for escort?’ Tolly said as he entered the Thain’s study.

‘Sit down, Tolly,’ Reginard said, indicating the chair by his desk. Tolly shot a puzzled glance at Everard, who kept his face blank. No need to send rumour running rife just yet. ‘Shut the door, Haldegrim, and make sure we are not disturbed by routine matters.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Tolly sat, though it felt unnatural to him. Usually when summoned to the Thain’s study, he stood at attention, received his orders, and turned on his heel to carry them out as quickly and efficiently as possible.

‘Tell me again what Ferdi said before he left,’ Reginard said. Tolly felt a clenching fist in his guts; he’d had no word from Ferdibrand since the other had set out after Faramir.

‘He was taking Faramir on to Buckland, to his father,’ he said cautiously.

‘Did you see them depart?’ Regi asked.

At Tolly’s hesitation, the steward’s expression grew hard. ‘Where is Ferdi now?’ he rapped out.

‘At Brandy Hall,’ Tolly said. ‘At least, I haven’t heard anything to the contrary.’

‘Ferdibrand and Faramir never reached Brandy Hall,’ Reginard said grimly. ‘The Thain has just written to have his son sent to join him. Obviously, Farry is not with his father.’

‘Never reached—‘ Tolly gasped, his head reeling. He was glad to be sitting down.

‘Now,’ Regi said, glowering. ‘Did you see them depart?’

‘I... I saw Ferdi depart,’ Tolly said faintly. The fat was truly in the fire.

‘Was Farry with him?’ Regi asked. Tolly was pale and sweating, he noted, not his usual calm, imperturbable self. ‘Was he?’ he demanded, when the head of escort did not answer.

‘We were trying to prevent a scandal,’ Tolly said slowly. ‘Farry had run away, not just slipped his escort to make mischief, but gone, and not returned when darkness fell, the day the Thain left for Buckland. Ferdi went after him. If I didn’t hear anything, I was to assume he found the lad and went on to Buckland.’

‘It sounds plausible enough,’ Everard said. The implications of the son of the Thain running away were serious; how could the Thain watch over Tookland if he could not watch over his own family? Pippin’s own waywardness as a youth had caused Thain Paladin no end of trouble in that respect.

‘So where is he now?’ Reginard asked.

Tolly could only shake his head and shrug helplessly.

‘Which way did he go?’ Reginard pressed.

‘The trail started off to the West,’ Tolly said. ‘Perhaps the lad was running off to the Sea, but Ferdi thought he might be clever enough to lay a false trail and then double back.’

‘We’ll start searching in that direction, anyhow,’ Regi said heavily. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, though why anyone would drop a good needle into a pile of hay was beyond him. The trail would be five days old by now, could they even find it again. The twain might be anywhere. ‘Were they on ponyback?’ he asked.

‘On foot,’ Tolly said. ‘Farry left on foot, the better to sneak off, I gather, and Ferdi thought ‘twould be easier to track him that way.’

On foot... that narrowed the possibilities to anywhere within the Bounds of the Shire, and some distance beyond.

‘Write a note to the Thain, informing him of the situation,’ Reginard told his brother. ‘We’ll send it out by pony post as soon as it’s sealed.’ Everard nodded and picked up the quill.

The note had been sent off and Reginard was going over the map of the Shire with Tolly and Everard when a tap came at the door.

‘Enter,’ Regi barked, not taking his eyes from the map. Even if he called on every single Took in Tookland to join the search, it seemed a hopeless endeavor.

‘Message, sir,’ Haldegrim said, then swung the door wider to admit a quick post rider.

‘Yes?’ Regi said.

‘I have a message here for Tolibold Took,’ the messenger said, walking into the room, pulling a folded note from his pouch. ‘But there was a bit of confusion; the hobbit who gave me the note said it was for the Thain.’

‘Give me that,’ Regi snapped, moving to intercept the note before Tolly could take it. Looking to the quick post rider, he said, ‘Wait outside; I’ll let you know if there’s a reply.’

‘Yes, sir,’ the messenger said, and exited the study.

Regi broke the seal and began to read. Looking up, he said sharply to Tolly, ‘What do you know about this?’

‘Not much, I’m afraid,’ the head of escort answered. ‘I don’t even know who sent that note, or whence it came.’

‘Woody End,’ Regi said shortly, and Tolly furrowed his brow.

‘Woody End?’ he echoed. ‘Ferdi?’

‘A nice guess,’ Regi said, and Tolly stiffened at his tone.

‘What do you mean by that?’ he asked.

Regi read from the note. ‘ “Keep the secret as long as you can,” he says. Just what secret does he mean? Where is he keeping the son of the Thain without the Thain’s knowledge?’

‘Woody End, evidently,’ Tolly said dryly.

‘No nonsense, now, Tolibold, this is deadly serious,’ Regi said through his teeth. ‘It appears that you and Ferdibrand are conspiring against the Thain. What do you have to say about that?’

‘We are conspiring, true,’ Tolly said. Before he could explain, he was interrupted.

‘Out of his own mouth you have it,’ Everard growled. To Haldegrim, standing aghast in the doorway, he rapped out, ‘Bind him.’

‘It is not what you think!’ Tolly shouted. ‘That is not what I meant at all!’

‘Tell it to the Thain,’ Reginard said, and at the ritual words Tolly fell silent. He knew that if he spoke again, Haldegrim would be ordered to gag him, and he didn’t care for that discomfort in the midst of this shambles. He’d have to wait for the Thain to release him to give his testimony. The traditional silence on the part of the accused had always seemed sensible to him, making for an orderly hearing without undue interruption, but now, for the first time, he found himself questioning tradition.

‘Farry was injured by a fox, Ferdi says,’ Regi said, looking again at the letter. ‘He’s waiting at Woody End until the leg heals, then will continue as planned. What plan does he mean?’

Tolly gave him an ironic look. You’ve gagged me, remember? he seemed to be saying. By custom, he was not supposed to speak until the Thain questioned him.

Regi looked at him narrowly. ‘Hilly told me that you wagered heavily on the pony races this year, and lost, and you couldn’t make up the debt in wagering on the tournament since you cannot place a wager for or against yourself, competing as you were. Are you deeply in debt?’

Tolly nodded slowly. He was paying off the debt a bit at a time, but it would be a burden for some time yet. He’d learned his lesson, and a bitter one at that, when the pony he’d backed as a “sure thing” had pulled up lame after leading for much of the final race, crossing the finish line dead last.

‘Those ruffians you escorted out of the Shire last month,’ Everard said, with the air of putting together pieces of a puzzle. ‘Did they offer you gold, to help them?’

‘I should have shot them instead,’ Tolly muttered, forgetting he was supposed to stand mute, then his eyes widened as he caught the implication. ‘Help them?’ he gasped. ‘Help them steal the Thain’s son? For gold? Kidnap him?’ The escort were all too familiar with the word, for the Thain had told them of his fear and solemnly charged them with the safety of his family.

‘They would have promised you that no harm would come to the lad, of course,’ Reginard said in Tolly’s defence. ‘It would give you a chance to clear all your debts, and no harm done. The Thain has plenty of gold, after all, and to spare, and what good does it do sitting in a hole in the ground?’

‘No,’ Tolly whispered.

‘Do I have to gag you, sir?’ Haldegrim said quietly. He had tied Tolly’s hands with loose knots, though it galled him to bind the head of escort this way. Tolly shook his head and subsided.

‘What I don’t understand is Ferdi’s role in this,’ Reginard mused. ‘He has always been as honourable as the day is long.’

‘I would never think to question his loyalty to Pippin,’ Everard said stoutly. ‘But what else can this note mean?’ Reginard had passed the letter to him, and he read it over again, frowning. Keep the secret as long as you can... continue as planned... The words could be taken either way. Either Tolly and Ferdi were conspiring to protect the Thain by covering up his son’s foolishness, or their actions were more sinister in nature. He said as much.

‘I’d agree with you, but for the fact that Ferdi did not inform Pippin immediately once he had Faramir safely in hand,’ Regi said slowly. ‘I do not know what Ferdi is about, but that fact alone makes me suspect his motives in this.’ He shook his head. ‘I simply cannot believe this of him.’ He looked to Tolly. ‘Or you, for that matter.’

Tolly nodded ironic thanks.

‘It doesn’t matter what I believe, however,’ Regi said. ‘We must act as if we believe your guilt, until you can prove your innocence, or Ferdi can. At the moment, the evidence is against you.’

Tolly raised an eyebrow. Doesn’t matter what you believe? he was thinking.

Reginard read his expression. ‘No, it doesn’t matter what I believe,’ he reiterated. ‘What matters is what the Thain believes, if he chooses to believe the evidence, or if he chooses to put more weight on his past dealings with the two of you.’

Tolly nodded. Evidence was against him, true, but Pippin ought to believe their testimony as to their intentions. They had served him loyally for six years, now. Surely that outweighed Ferdi’s note, and his failure to notify Pippin of his son’s whereabouts. Surely...

Everard’s muttered oath interrupted Tolly’s musings.

‘What is it?’ Regi snapped.

‘The pony post!’ his brother said. ‘We’ve got to stop that message...’

‘Too late,’ Regi said. ‘He’s gone by now. We’ve got to send a rider after him, catch him up, or at the very least bring the news on his heels that Ferdi’s been heard from and Faramir is thought to be in the home of Hally the Woodcarver in Woody End.’

‘I’ll go,’ Everard said. ‘I know what’s what, as well as anyone, and ‘twould take precious time to draft the message.’

‘Go!’ Reginard answered. ‘Tell Pippin we’ll meet him there.’ His brother nodded and left the study at a run.

12. Mixed Messages

Tooks and servants stared, stunned to silence as Haldegrim escorted Tolly through the Great Smials to the main entrance. They could hear the whispers start up behind them, Did you see... He was bound! What’s happened?

At the door, Haldegrim stopped to throw Tolly’s cloak over his shoulders and fasten the clasp, pulling the hood up over his head for good measure. It was cold outside. Tolly nodded thanks as Haldegrim donned his own cloak, then took the head of escort’s arm once more to walk him out into the yard, where saddled ponies waited, their breath making white plumes in the icy air. Tolly shivered and tried to shrug more deeply into his cloak. The clouds stared sullenly down, bringing early twilight to the dismal day, and lamps shone forth from the windows of the Great Smials. There was a breathless heaviness to the air, as if a storm were about to break. Tolly had no doubt that it was so.

Reaching the ponies, they turned back to the Smials to wait for Reginard. Movement caught Tolly’s eye; he looked more closely and saw his wife Meadowsweet standing at a window, her hands pressed to the glass, staring at him. Though it was her right to stand by his side, he had put her off with a headshake when she’d stopped them in the tunnel, demanding an explanation.

‘Business of the Thain,’ Haldegrim had said, gently moving her out of the way. ‘Tolly, do you want...?’

Tolly shook his head again. With a glance at Haldegrim, he risked a whisper. ‘It’ll be all right. Take care of the children. I—‘ Haldegrim gripped his arm tighter in warning, and he broke off.

She knew what he’d been about to say, whispering her own love to him as Haldegrim pulled him away from her. Now Tolly saw her lips moving, knew she said, I love you! He nodded, tried to smile reassuringly, and then Haldegrim was turning him towards the ponies preparatory to mounting. Reginard had exited the Smials and the party was ready to depart.

***

Ferdi fell into a heavy sleep near teatime, just about the time Hally and Robin returned empty-handed from their hunt.

‘All the wild creatures are hiding, it seems,’ Hally said. ‘All of Woody End seems to be holding its breath.’ He put down his bow and called his older sons to make sure everything was tied down or locked up tight while everyone hurried to finish their evening chores now rather than after teatime.

The air bore down oppressively. ‘It’s no wonder Ferdi’s laid so low,’ Hally whispered to Rosemary as she watched by her brother’s bedside. ‘I can hardly breathe, myself, and if the air is pressing on his head anything like it’s pressing on mine...’

Rosemary nodded. Though she held his hand, Ferdi made no sign of knowing she was there.

‘Do you want me to ride for the healer?’ Hally said.

‘No,’ Rosemary answered. ‘There’s a storm about to break loose, and I don’t want you in the middle of it, having a tree limb blow down upon you or something of the sort. I don’t know what more a healer would do for him than I’ve already done, besides.’

‘Right,’ Hally said, bending to kiss her cheek. ‘You stay here with him, then, and we’ll get tea on.’ She nodded again, her eyes fixed on her brother’s face.

Farry was glad that Rosemary was busy with Ferdibrand; he wasn’t feeling all that well, himself, and he was afraid her sharp eyes might find him out. Thankfully, everyone was on edge and out of sorts and no one remarked on Farry’s heavy eyes and flushed face.

Robin had let slip that he and his father had visited an inn and his father had spoken to the quick post rider there. Farry determined that he would have to slip out tonight, when the family were sleeping. It was good luck for him that Ferdi was so ill, though he felt a twinge of conscience at the thought, rather than the satisfaction he expected to feel at knowing Ferdibrand was in no condition to follow him. Sleeping by the hearth as he was, rather than bundled into a bed with several others, it would be easy enough to pick up his blanket, swipe a loaf of bread from the sideboard, and slip out the door in the middle night.

A few hours after the Bolgers sought their beds, Farry roused slightly, hearing a roaring noise outside. He wondered for a moment if he was dreaming about dragons, then realised that he was hearing the sound of a mighty wind, and spatters of rain driving upon the roof above. He felt another blanket being laid over him, and looked up to see Rosemary’s smile.

‘Go back to sleep, Farry,’ she said. He nodded and closed his eyes, then cracked one eyelid to see her stretching herself wearily upon the bed in the corner. Hally must be watching with Ferdi. Farry snuggled deeper into his blankets. He’d just wait long enough for her to fall asleep, and for the blankets to chase away the chills that assailed him afresh, and then he’d take himself off into the night and the storm.

***

Late supper came and went at Brandy Hall, but no messenger with small boy in his charge.

‘What d’you suppose happened?’ Pippin said, sipping brandy in the Master’s study. ‘Pony post has never failed us before...’

‘Perhaps a pony pulled up lame, and the messenger had to walk to the next inn,’ Berilac commented, filling Merry’s glass.

‘That would slow him down considerably,’ Merry said. ‘I cannot believe it, however, with what we’re paying to keep the ponies ready and in good condition.’

‘It’s not the weather,’ Pippin said. ‘Despite all your misgivings, cousin, I’ve seen no sign of a storm as of yet.’

‘Just wait,’ Merry said gloomily. At that moment, there was an urgent knock on the door.

Pippin started up from his chair. ‘Here they are at last!’ he said.

‘Come!’ Merry called, and the door opened, to admit a pony post rider, but no small boy in his train.

‘Palanard?’ Pippin said, coming forward.

The messenger strode into the room, removing a folded note from his pouch and extending it with a trembling hand. ‘I rode as quick as I could, Sir,’ he said.

‘What is it?’ Merry asked, rising from his desk as Pippin took the note, broke the seal and began to read. All colour drained from the Thain’s face and he staggered as the grim-faced messenger reached out to steady him.

‘Call the healer!’ Merry rapped out, moving to Pippin’s other side. Berilac jumped to obey. Together, Merry and Palanard half-carried Pippin to a chair and eased him down.

Merry took up Pippin’s glass and held it to his cousin’s lips, but Pippin turned his head away. ‘Faramir,’ he whispered. His hand fell to his side and released the note. Merry caught it and scanned the few lines, then understood the reason for his cousin’s collapse.

‘Steady, Pip,’ he said. ‘Breathe, cousin,’ he added, for Pippin’s breaths were coming fast and short, and he’d begun to wheeze.

‘Farry,’ Pippin said again, staring at nothing, locked in a private nightmare of realised fear.

It was with great relief that Merry saw the door open some moments later to admit old Ossilan, head healer at Brandy Hall, Berilac close at his heels.

‘What’s happened?’ Ossilan said as one hand closed about the Thain’s wrist. His calm was a steady rock to cling to in the swirl of emotions that Merry fought down: fear for Pippin, and for his son; fury at whomever was responsible for the lad’s disappearance; a thirst for vengeance that surprised him with its unhobbitlike power.

‘His son’s gone missing,’ Merry said.

‘Come, Master Peregrin,’ Ossilan said, for all the world as if the Thain were a tween once more, resisting the healer’s ministrations. ‘Breathe for me, now, lad. In... out... in... out... that’s it, steady breaths.’ Merry found himself relaxing and breathing more deeply in response to Ossilan’s rhythmic cadence and soothing tone. Colour began to return to Pippin’s face, and Merry saw the healer subtly relax.

‘Farry,’ Pippin said again. ‘Where’s Farry?’

‘We’ll find him,’ Merry said staunchly. He had no idea how, but he had no doubt.

There was a commotion in the corridor, and then Everard Took flung himself into the Master’s study, to fall to his knees before Pippin, taking the Thain’s hands in his own.

‘Farry,’ Pippin murmured, still in a state of shock.

‘He’s found, Pip,’ Everard gasped, ‘at least, we think he is.’ He’d run all the way up to the Hall from the Ferry landing.

‘What do you mean?’ Merry said sharply.

‘Just after Regi sent off the message that the lad wasn’t at the Smials, a note came from Ferdi, in Woody End, saying that he had the lad there and safe,’ Everard explained in gasps, still gripping Pippin’s hands. ‘Pip, do you hear me?’ he added. He had nearly killed that last pony in the effort to catch the pony post rider, who had stayed just ahead of him; as it was, Everard arrived at the Western Ferry landing in time to see the Ferry pull up to the landing at Brandy Hall.

‘Woody End?’ Berilac said. ‘What’s he doing there?’

‘That is what we are going to find out,’ Merry said grimly.

13. Facts and Fabrications

Pippin was breathing as well as he ever did these days, now that he was calm. Ossilan had persuaded him to drink one of his bitter herbal concoctions, and though he kept a sharp eye on the Thain, the healer nodded slightly to Merry in reassurance.

Everard had caught his breath and was sitting in a comfortable chair, sipping at a restorative glass of brandy.

Hildibold Took, who'd ridden with Pippin to Buckland as his escort, had been called into the room, and now he sat at attention, wondering what the commotion had been about.

'Let's go over it once more,' Merry said.

Pippin's relief had quickly turned to anger, and his eyes were snapping as he turned back on Everard. 'Yes, let us do,' he said tightly. 'Why was no one aware until now that Faramir was missing?' Hilly sat straighter. Missing? He wondered at the Thain's icy calm.

Everard had an engineer's meticulous mind, and he laid out the story with precision. 'The details are sketchy at best, Sir, but this is what we know. On the morning you left for Buckland, Farry told Diamond that he'd been invited to spend the day with Ferdibrand's family. That evening, Ferdi sent word to Diamond, via Tolly, that you had told him to take Farry on to Buckland; that you thought he'd be punished sufficiently by the delay; that the lad would spend the night in Ferdi's quarters in order not to disturb her with their early departure. He left early the next morning, before anyone was about. Only Tolly saw him go.'

'He said I had-' Pippin echoed, at a loss for words.

'Where was Reginard?' Merry asked.

'I had sent him to Tookbank, on a business matter,' Pippin said, 'and Everard-'

'I was in Michel Delving, consulting on the new diggings there,' Everard put in.

'I left Ferdi in charge at the Smials, and Tolly was to assist him,' Pippin concluded.

'Sounds as if the Fox was left in charge of the henhouse,' Berilac said grimly.

'When Reginard returned from Tookbank, Tolly told him that Ferdi had left that morning with Faramir, per your orders, to take the lad to Buckland.'

'I cannot believe it of Tolly, nor Ferdi either!' Pippin exclaimed angrily, but he nodded in growing conviction as Everard continued.

'These are facts, Pippin, not fabrications. I am telling you what happened in your absence. Farry's been gone since the day you left, and no one the wiser, save Ferdi and Tolly, until your message arrived this afternoon.' Everard saw the Thain's fingers tighten on the mug he held until his knuckles shone white through the skin.

'What did Tolly say when the truth came out?' Merry asked, getting back to the meat of the matter.

'He spun some wild yarn about Farry running away and Ferdi following him, giving Tolly to understand that he'd take the lad on to Buckland when he caught him, to keep Diamond from worry.'

Pippin nodded. He'd been reassured that they were still keeping Diamond from worry, difficult as it was. Tolly would be escorted to Woody End to await questioning, as Reginard anticpated that Pippin would travel there to collect his son. While speculation would undeniably arise amongst the Tooks of the Great Smials, hopefully no one would connect Tolly's arrest with Faramir's supposed departure days earlier, at least not until they got to the bottom of the matter and had Faramir safely back with his parents.

'But Ferdi took him to Woody End instead,' Berilac mused. 'Why would he do that, and not send word?'

'What if Tolly and Ferdi were in league with ruffians, who'd offered them gold in return for their services?' Everard said, remembering Regi's words.

'Preposterous!' Pippin hissed. 'Ferdi? Tempted by gold? I'd sooner say the Sun would arise from her rest in the West!'

'Perhaps he's lost his wits,' Merry murmured. 'He's always been a bit daft.'

'And what of Tolly? You're his brother; what do you have to say? Would he be tempted by gold?' Hilly quailed as the Thain swung around to glare at him; Pippin's anger crackled in the air like the sparks that jump from a woollen blanket on a cold day.

'I'd say no,' Hilly answered slowly. He'd been listening in numb horror as the story unfolded.

'But for what fact?' Merry pressed, hearing the hesitation in his tone.

Hilly ducked his head. 'He wagered heavily on the pony races this year, and lost,' he said reluctantly. 'I cannot imagine that he would conspire to pay off his debts...'

'Honour is all,' Everard said bleakly, and Pippin nodded. The Tooks valued their honour above all else, and debt was disgrace.

'Tolly would follow Ferdi's lead,’ Pippin said slowly. ‘Ferdi might be able to convince him, somehow, that this could be done in a way that hurt no one; why, if they did not deliver the lad into the hands of the ruffians, but kept him hid at Woody End, he'd be in no danger, and they could blame the ruffians for the trouble.'

'Why involve ruffians at all?' Merry asked.

'Someone would have to receive the gold; if it were ruffians, who would think to question hobbits? Give Farry a sleeping draught and he'd not remember anything – folk would assume the ruffians had taken him by force from Ferdi,' said Everard. He'd been thinking the matter through on the long ride to Buckland. 'Just let Ferdi and Farry be found, asleep and bound, after the gold is paid out, and there'd be no reason to suspect hobbits.'

Pippin looked at Everard in astonishment. 'You don't sound like a hobbit at all!' he said. 'That's the type of talk you'd hear from a renegade Man, or a Ranger describing a ruffian's actions...'

'But would Ferdi do such a thing?' Berilac asked. 'And would his sister allow it?'

'He's always been a fool of a Took,' Merry said, 'from the first time I met him. He'd take wild chances, and do things that defied convention and common sense. I suppose it's possible that he's gone completely round the bend.'

'His mother went mad, and died raving,' Everard said heavily.

'Yes, that terrible day...’ Merry swallowed hard, thinking of Stelliana, holding her young son tightly, watching the burning stables fall in on her husband and brother-in-love. ‘Ferdi lost everything that day, father, mother, uncle...'

Ferdi's father had been pulled from the fire and had lingered long years in bitterness, crippled by his injuries. In truth, though, the laughing father of Ferdi's childhood had died, was gone forever after that terrible day. Merry had not seen much of Ferdibrand thereafter.

'He didn't lose his sister,' Pippin said. 'Evidently he's staying with her as we speak.'

'Something went wrong with the plan,' Everard continued, 'and Farry was injured by a fox. I assume Ferdi sought refuge at his sister's to give the lad a chance to heal. Perhaps he would have pretended to be waylaid by ruffians on his way from Woody End to Buckland. We might never have known otherwise, had not the Thain sent for his son.'

'Well, we certainly have this seam neatly sewn up,' Berilac said dryly. 'Tried and convicted, without a word of testimony on their part.' Merry shot him a quelling glance.

'They'll have their say,' Pippin said, his face grim. 'But if they've conspired to keep my son from me, I want them banished from the Shire.' His voice shook with emotion as he remembered the fear of having lost his son, and further, his fear for Diamond on her hearing the dreadful news.

Merry nodded. He would be hearing the case, as Pippin was an injured party. 'I hear you, cousin,' he said softly. 'I hear you.' There was little doubt in his mind, after reading Ferdi's note and hearing Everard repeat Tolly's words, about the outcome of this case.

14. Circumstantial Evidence

Some time before dawn, Ferdibrand awakened, in his right senses, more or less. Hally dozed in the chair beside the bed, and at the sight of his brother-in-love, Ferdi remembered where he was, and why he was there. Farry! Who was watching Faramir?

Cautiously, so as not to jar his head, he rolled himself to a sitting position, then waited for the dizziness to subside. His head felt as fragile as fine elven glass, and as likely to shatter with an injudicious move. He lifted a trembling hand and stroked his fingers from the bridge of his nose to his temple. Well, his head hadn't quite fallen off during the bad spell. He'd had his doubts at the time.

He stood swaying for a moment, then walked carefully across the room, almost afraid to touch foot to ground, keeping his movements as smooth as possible. This also made his progress silent, and Hally dozed on, unaware of Ferdi's wakening.

He eased the bedroom door open and looked to the hearth, breathing a sigh of relief to see the pile of blankets there, only Farry's curls showing in the light of the watch-lamp. The sigh was a mistake; his head gave a twinge.

The creak of the door had awakened Rosemary. 'Ferdi? What are you doing out of bed?' She rose quickly to take his arm.

'Farry,' he breathed.

'Farry's fine, sound asleep. See?' She guided him to the bed in the corner. 'Lie down and I'll get a cool cloth for your head.'

He did not resist. He heard the trickle of water being wrung from a cloth, and it occurred to him that the world outside was blessedly silent. The roaring beast that had haunted his dreams was gone. The storm was over, the weather ache that had shadowed his mind was fading. He'd be well in a day or two, and able to take Farry on to Buckland.

The cloth was laid over his forehead, and in spite of himself, he sighed. 'There,' Rosemary whispered. 'Rest, now.'

He heard the bedroom door creak, and knew she was taking herself off to her own bed. A murmur of voices meant that she'd wakened Hally from his uncomfortable position in the chair, a rustle of bedcovers told of Hally and Rosemary snuggling together. Ferdibrand heard no more, drifting off to sleep.

He awakened some time later to the sound of ponies outside. The door slammed open, banging back against the wall and letting in a blast of chill air. He sat up, his head feeling less fragile this time, and a voice said sharply, 'Don't move, Ferdi!'

'Hilly?' he said. 'What are you doing here?' He wondered for a moment if he was really awake, or had fallen back into nightmare. This was not believable: Hilly stood in the open doorway with an arrow pointed at his chest. He cautiously shook his head and blinked, but Hilly was still there, his bow drawn, and it did not appear to be a jest.

'Don't move, Ferdi, I'm warning you. Where is Faramir?' There was no trace of friendliness in Hilly's voice, and Ferdi decided this must be happening in truth, however much it felt like a bad dream.

'He's right there by the hearth, asleep,' Ferdi said, with a slight nod. He wasn't about to make any overt moves, under the circumstances. Two cloaked figures that had entered behind the escort moved quickly to the bundle of blankets before the fire.

'Farry?' It was Pippin's voice, but hoarse and strained, and Ferdi felt a stab of concern.

'Pip, no! You rode through the storm? You'll catch your death!' The Thain ignored him.

'He's burning with fever,' Pippin said tightly, and the other cloaked figure threw back his hood to reveal the Master of Buckland.

'Fever!' Ferdi said, startled into motion, but Hilly's arrow convinced him to sit back down on the bed. 'He was fine earlier.'

'So you say,' Merry snapped.

Rosemary appeared at the door of the bedroom, a shawl thrown over her nightdress. 'What in the world...?' She sounded utterly bewildered, and Hally came from behind to put his arms about her.

'The Thain has come to claim his son,' he said in realisation.

'Rose, Farry's fevered,' Ferdi said urgently. She looked at her brother, his hands held out to his sides while Hilly's arrow pointed unwavering at his heart, and Ferdi nodded to her. Help the lad.

She crossed to the washstand and dipped a clean cloth in the water bucket, bringing it over to lay on Farry's forehead. She knelt beside the lad and undid the blankets, unwound the bandage around his leg to look at the wound. It was healing nicely.

'Not infected,' she murmured absently. She opened Farry's shirt and placed her head against his chest, recoiling quickly with alarm on her face. 'Sit him up!' she ordered. 'It'll help him breathe.'

'Not...' Pippin blanched with fear, hurrying to prop his son up in his arms.

'His lungs are rattling,' she said shortly. She went to a shelf in the kitchen corner, taking down a crock. Coming back, she liberally smeared a handful of the contents over Faramir's chest, and on his back for good measure. 'Goose grease,' she answered the Thain's inquiring look. 'I'll make up a mustard plaster as quick as I can, and if that doesn't work we'll try an onion poultice.'

'He was fine earlier,' Ferdi repeated. At least, he thought Farry had been fine. Surely Rosemary would have said something, had the lad been ill.

'He was,' Rosemary affirmed. 'This must have come on during the night.' She shook her head. 'He's been warm and dry here...' she looked to her husband. 'Hally, could he have taken a chill when he was helping the lads?'

'I wouldn't think so,' Hally said. 'And none of them is ill.' The other children were clustered in the bedroom doorway, their eyes wide at the scene before them.

Ferdi gave a sharp exclamation.

'Don't do that!' Hilly snapped. It was hard enough to hold an arrow steady without being startled in the bargain.

'What a fool I was!' Ferdi said, looking to Rosemary. 'He slept the first night in a haystack, and I never thought to ask if he was dry or damp when he sought its shelter.'

'You let my son sleep in a haystack? Why did you not seek shelter?' Pippin's voice trembled with outrage, and Ferdi hastened to explain.

'He was on his own that first night. He'd...' He looked around at all the listening ears. 'I ought to tell you this in private.'

'I think everyone in this room has a right to hear, seeing how you've used them,' Merry said sternly. It seemed to him that the Bolgers were honestly bewildered by events.

Ferdi hesitated, but seeing which way the wind was blowing, he nodded. 'He had run away from the Smials,' he said. 'It was too late to follow him, by the time it was discovered, so he spent that first night in a haystack. I caught up with him towards evening of the second day, and that because a fox had treed him.'

'You expect me to believe that?' Pippin said coldly.

'I do,' Ferdi answered. The others were taken aback by his confidence, but Merry was quick to press the attack.

'Why did you not take him back to the Smials to be cared for? Or as you were closer to Buckland, why not there, to his father?' He fixed Ferdi with a penetrating stare. 'Why did you not return him to his parents? What are you doing here, Ferdi, hiding out with the lad and not a word to anyone?'

'If Farry ran away, why did I have no word from Diamond?' Pippin added.

'We gave Diamond reason to think he'd gone with you to Buckland,' Ferdi said. 'I didn't want her to worry, in her condition.'

'We?' Merry asked, raising his eyebrows.

'Tolly,' Everard elaborated from the doorway, having put the ponies away. Seeing that Hilly had the situation fully in hand, he put down his bow and threw back the hood of his cloak.

Pippin wrung out the cloth in the bowl of water Rosemary had brought him and replaced it on Faramir's forehead. He moved with slow deliberation, doing what he could for his son, but there was a tightness in his face and a subtle tension in his body that boded no good for someone. 'I thought it odd that there were no letters from Diamond – there'd be one a day, usually, reminding me to eat. I was beginning to worry, actually, that she might be ill – but I thought I could rely on Ferdi to keep me informed.' He flashed a glance at Ferdi, sharp as a naked sword.

‘And of course if my wife had received my letters to her, she would have known Farry wasn't with me,’ he finished bitterly.

'Tolly would have the authority to stop letters,' said Everard.

'I trusted you, Ferdi.' Pippin sounded sad. "If I had not seen your note to Tolly with my own eyes –'

'Tolly knew I meant to take Farry on to Buckland when I found him. I told him I'd only send word if things went otherwise. But a fox found the lad before I did, and scored his leg. I brought him here to give him a chance to heal before we went on to Buckland.' I'm babbling, he thought in despair, seeing Pippin’s stony gaze, and he doesn't believe me anyway.

No one answered him, but as he looked from hobbit to hobbit, the eyes that met his were hard. He blundered on. 'I could not bring him back to the Smials bleeding; Diamond would be beside herself!’ Surely they could find no fault with that.

He added, ‘Neither did I relish bringing him to Brandy Hall in that state.' Pippin snorted his disbelief.

'Very convenient,' Merry said coldly. 'No doubt you can also explain why you sent no message to the Thain. I saw when the bandage was removed that the lad's leg is nearly healed now, certainly well enough to travel. Why are you both still here, Ferdi, since you planned to bring him to Buckland? Or said you planned...'

Ferdi stared at him in astonishment. 'Exactly what are you accusing me of?' he demanded.

Rosemary broke in. 'Ferdi fell ill, the day before yesterday.'

Hally nodded. 'He was abed most of the day. He stayed on his feet just long enough to send a message to the Smials, since he knew he was in no condition to travel with the lad.'

'He sent word to the Smials, to Tolly,' Pippin said grimly, ‘not to Reginard,’ he added significantly, 'but he sent no word to me! Yet he knew I was in Buckland – two hours' ride from your door. Obviously he realised that I would have come for my son, and that plainly was not part of his plan. Rather, his message to Tolly was to keep his whereabouts secret as long as possible. You will find it hard to explain that to my satisfaction, Ferdibrand!' He practically spat the last words.

'Farry had run away,' Ferdi repeated desperately. 'He threatened to run again, at first opportunity! I brought him here to calm him down, to make him see reason –'

'Or perhaps you brought him here to keep him secret whilst his leg healed, so you could spirit him away who knows where,' said Merry. 'Easy enough to tell the good folk here that you were going on to Brandy Hall, and they’d have no reason to disbelieve you.’ Rosemary started to speak, but Merry continued, ‘I wonder where you would really have taken him.'

'That's not the way it was at all!' Ferdi protested. 'Ask Tolly!'

'Oh, I'll ask Tolly, you can be sure of that!' Pippin said quietly, having mastered himself once more. 'Tolly should be here very soon. Reginard is bringing him – under guard.'

Just then Faramir stirred in his blankets, and all Pippin's attention went to him at once. 'Steady, lad, steady,’ he crooned. ‘All's well now, Farry. You're safe.'

'Ferdi!' the lad moaned, and his father cradled him in his arms, murmuring words of comfort.

Faramir was deep in a fever nightmare. He clung to the side of a bluff where a raging torrent had eaten away at the bank, collapsing the trail above. He'd seen one friend swept away, and another climb to safety, aided by Ferdibrand. Now Ferdi, clinging to the bank beside him, took off his belt, fumbling with one hand and grasping at protruding tree roots with the other. He used the belt to secure Faramir to some sturdy-looking roots and smiled.

That'll keep you, for the nonce. What d'you suppose we'll be having for supper?

'Water rations for me,' Faramir muttered.

'What did he say?' Merry asked.

'I couldn't make it out,' said Pippin. 'Something about water, I think. Fever talk; he's probably thirsty.'

'I'll bring him a cup,' Rosemary said quickly.

Could be worse. Water from a mug sounds a lot more inviting than water from the stream, at the moment.

'Are you thirsty, Farry?' she asked, holding the cup to his lips.

'You have the right of it,' he answered faintly, but oddly enough, he didn't drink.

I'm glad my Nell cannot see me now. She'd have the babe out of sheer consternation, not to mention I would never live it down... Just then, more of the bank crumbled away beneath Ferdibrand, throwing his weight fully upon the tree roots to which he clung... roots that did not hold his weight, but gave way, plunging him into raging waters that closed over his head...

'Ferdi!' Faramir cried out in horror, stiffening against the hands that held him. 'Ferdi, no!' He began to sob. 'O no, please, no...'

Ferdi met Pippin's eyes over the lad's head, and looked hastily away. He had never seen such fury in another hobbit's face – Paladin's noisy rages were nothing in comparison. Only the ruffians’ ferocity compared to that of this father who thought he’d nearly lost his son.

He'd heard that Pippin had been much in the company of Men, the year he was away from the Shire, and he’d made visits to the South since the War had ended, before he’d had become Thain. Merry, too, had often returned to the South. Were they more like Men than hobbits, now?

Chapter 15. A Way of Escape

It took Pippin and Rosemary both to calm Farry, but at last he fell into exhausted sleep.

'Why is he afraid of you, Ferdi?' There was quiet menace in Pippin's voice.

'He's not afraid of me!' Ferdi struggled not to lose his temper. His head ached fiercely from the growing strain, but while Hilly held an arrow on him he dared not raise a hand to rub at the pain.

Merry's eyebrow went up, and Hilly muttered, 'Could have fooled me.' Surely Ferdibrand had taken leave of his senses.

'I don't know how he managed to coerce the lad, but...' Hally began, and Ferdi’s shoulders sagged, though he continued to hold his hands away from his sides, staring fixedly at Hilly’s unwavering arrow. Ferdi’s brother-in-love had thought over the situation, and clearly had not decided in Ferdi’s favour.

'What?' Pippin demanded.

'He never spoke a word to anyone, Farry didn't, I mean. Ferdi tried to pass him off as some lad he'd found in the woods, knowing we hadn't seen Farry in some time.' His tone was troubled, remembering what Rosemary had told him on his return from the Stoat and Stout, how Ferdi had shouted for Farry, even risen from his bed to search for lad, and spouted nonsense when he saw him.

'I wanted him to go home of his own accord,' Ferdi said evenly, having mastered his temper. 'I struck a bargain with him, hoping I could trick him into returning with me if he did not hold up his end of the bargain. I thought it would be easy; I never imagined he could hold his tongue so well,' he finished wryly.

'You must admit, brother, you've not been well, this visit,' Hally said. He looked to the Thain, sorrow writ large over his face. ‘He’s not been himself; it is the truth, I swear.’

‘It is the truth,’ Rosemary echoed.

'What are you getting at?' Ferdi asked.

'You've not been yourself,' Hally replied. 'I don't know how to say it more plainly.'

Merry nodded thoughtfully. He had noticed that as well since he'd been here. Ferdi didn't seem like the Ferdi he’d known at all, and hiding here with Faramir wasn’t the kind of thing he would do, were he in his right mind. Not in his right mind, Merry mused, anger slowly turning to sadness. It wouldn't be the first time, in Ferdi's family...

There was a silence, broken only by the crackle of the fire and an occasional fevered mutter from Farry.

'Put up your bow,' Merry said at last. Pippin lifted his head.

Hilly looked to the Thain. He didn't take orders from Bucklanders, not even the Master.

'Merry, what are you about?' Pippin demanded.

'I've known Ferdi even longer than you have, Pip,' Merry answered, his resolve growing. 'I do not believe he's a danger to anyone at the moment, and with all of us here he'd never manage to take the lad away now.'

'Put up your bow, Hilly,' Pippin said, and Hilly lowered his arrow and eased the tension on the string. Ferdi breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his hands to his sides.

'I want to talk to Ferdi in private,' said Merry, finality in his tone, as if he’d worked his way through a difficult puzzle and saw now clearly the solution. 'Put on your cloak, Ferdi, and we'll walk.'

'But...' Hilly protested.

'I know what I'm about,' Merry said. 'Come along, Ferdi.' The hunter rose silently from the bed, took his cloak from the peg by the door, and followed Merry outside.

A sullen dawn had arrived; thin rain was spitting fitfully out of a grey sky. The storm's detritus of broken-off branches and an uprooted tree littered the clearing, and other uprooted trees could be seen in the surrounding wood.

'Fine day for a walk,' Ferdi said. He shrugged deeper into his cloak, fingers of wind plucking away at him, as he tried to keep pace with Merry’s long strides away from the house. Every step jarred his head, but he made no complaint. He was concentrating so fiercely on walking that he missed what Merry said next, only realizing when the other came to a stop some small distance into the woods, the house barely visible through the trees, and stared at him.

‘Did you say something?’ Ferdi asked.

'Go ahead,' Merry repeated. 'Walk.'

'I do not take your meaning.' Ferdi still felt shaky, and he wished he could go back to the house, back to sleep. Back to sleep, and forget that the last hour or so had ever happened.

'Walk,' Merry repeated patiently. Somehow he had to reach Ferdi through the fog of madness, make him understand that this was a mercy, a way of escape, a parting gift for the sake of old friendship. 'Go. Spare your family the pain of a trial, and seeing you banished with a brand on your cheek.' He took a deep breath. The air smelt of rain and leaf mould, and he wondered if he was doing the right thing. 'Go on, Ferdi! Just be sure you keep going until you're over the Bounds. If you're found inside the Shire, things will not go so well with you.'

'I've done nothing to warrant banishment,' Ferdi protested. He didn’t understand why Merry was looking at him so. What was wrong with his old friend, had he lost his senses? Merry’s next words were even more confusing.

Merry shook his head. 'You really have gone mad,' he said. 'Nothing? You've taken a child that doesn't belong to you – the only son of the Thain, no less! – forty miles from his home. You’ve kept him hid from his parents the last week, and who in the Shire can say what your intentions were?'

'He ran away!' Ferdi was nearly shouting in frustration. 'I wanted him to return of his own free will – what would be the good of dragging him back, only to have him run again the next chance he got? This time a fox nearly had him. What might happen next time?'

'Ferdi, we've been friends a long time,' Merry said. 'I remember rubbing mud into your hair the first time I met you. In Paladin's barnyard it was, when Pervinca was just a babe in the cradle. I wish I could believe you.'

'My father whipped us both that day, for scaring the colts,' Ferdi said with a distant smile, but then he came back to the present problem. 'Merry, what is so hard to believe?'

Merry snorted. 'Look at the evidence! What would you think, if it were someone else?'

'I am sworn to protect the Thain and his family,' Ferdi said reasonably. 'That is what I was doing.'

Merry shook his head. It was no use trying to reason with Ferdi; he was mad, quite mad. 'Go,' he said sadly. 'The way is open before you.'

'Abandon my family, Merry? Over specious charges?’ Merry listened in silent astonishment as Ferdi continued. ‘Nell is waiting for me back at the Smials. What would she think if I just walked off? It would be an admission of guilt, and I have done nothing!'

‘Nothing!’ Merry said under his breath. He gritted his teeth in frustration. 'You could have sent a message to Pippin,' he hissed. Tooks were so stubborn!

'And what would he have done? Raced here to claim his son, swept him off to the Great Smials, and no chance at all to change Faramir's thinking, to prevent him running again.'

'So you say,' Merry muttered.

'Aye,' Ferdi said strongly. 'And so Farry would say, were he not fevered. And Tolly will tell you the same when he gets here.'

'Let us hope for your sake he does,' Merry said, biting off each word. 'On the other hand, if the two of you conspired together, I would only expect his story to match your own.'

'You're accusing Tolly and me of hatching up some plan to steal the son of the Thain?' Ferdi said in astonishment. 'Wherever would you come up with such an idea?'

'Such things are common in the world of Men,' Merry said grimly. 'Pippin and I had hoped to stop the contagion from spreading to the Shire... but then, you've had a lot of contact with ruffians, Ferdi. You might have learnt this of them.' He hesitated, then added, 'Tolly escorted several ruffians out of the Shire just a month ago. Who's to say what they might have talked about?'

'Tolly? Conversing with ruffians? And you think I'm mad! All I learnt of ruffians was how to fight them, Merry,' Ferdi said, shaking his head in disbelief. 'You cannot think...'

'I do not know what to think,' Merry said slowly. 'All I know for sure is that it's raining, and I don't care to be any wetter than I am already.’ He added soberly, ‘This is your last chance, Ferdi. Take it, and go.'

'I'm not going anywhere, unless ordered by the Thain to do so,' Ferdi said stoutly. ‘Pippin has got to believe that this is all foolishness! Once he calms down, he’ll see reason.’

'Do not make me pronounce the sentence of banishment on you, Ferdibrand,' Merry said softly. There was pain in his voice, and Ferdi gave him a sharp look.

'You?'

'Pippin cannot judge this case; he is an injured party,' Merry said. 'It's up to me, or the Mayor, and I'm on the spot.'

'You... you believe me capable of such a deed,' Ferdi said slowly.

'I do,' said Merry, 'but if it is any comfort, I think you've gone mad, and cannot see the wrong in't.'

'I am not mad.'

'You'd be the last to know if you were,' Merry said sadly. 'That's part of madness. You think you're fine and it’s everyone else who has the problem.'

'It will all come clear when you speak with Tolly,' Ferdi said. 'I will not run, Merry! I've done nothing to warrant such a cowardly choice. Tolly will set everything straight.'

'I hope I don't end up having to banish you both,' Merry said.

'You're not the only one,' Ferdi agreed, and they turned back to the house.

Merry pondered. Ferdibrand’s refusal to go was undoubtedly another indication of his madness. His story couldn’t possibly be true. (Couldn’t it? a part of his mind still nagged.) What of the note and confession?

He shook his head hopelessly. Ferdi was out of his head, dangerously so. Merry had tried to reach him, and failed. There could be only one outcome to this case.

Chapter 16. Foregone Conclusion

It was an odd assortment of hobbits that sat around the long table after morning chores, Bolgers and Tooks and a lone Brandybuck, eating breakfast in uncomfortable silence. Rosemary and her daughters kept the food coming, hot and plenty. She had little desire, herself, to sit down and eat, and as long as she was on her feet, her daughters insisted on keeping her company.

Faramir had been moved to the big bed, and Rosemary brought the Thain his breakfast in the bedroom. She set down the tray and put her ear against the lad's chest, listening.

'He's breathing a little easier,' Pippin said, confirming her opinion. 'That steam you had him breathe earlier seems to have helped some.'

'Good,' Rosemary said. 'I think we've managed to head off the Old Gaffer's Friend. I'll fix up another mustard plaster and then we'll coat him with goose grease again.' She touched the hot forehead with the back of her hand. 'The fever's doing its work, burning the illness out of his body, I hope. If it goes too high, I'll wrap him up and let him sweat it away... unless you want me to send for the healer.'

'You seem to know what you're doing,' Pippin said.

Rosemary smiled. As long as she could keep her mind busy with other things, she could keep her worry for her brother neatly contained. 'I used to follow the healers around the Great Smials, peppering them with questions. They answered everything I asked, if only to get rid of me!'

Pippin smiled back. He, too, relied on the light conversation to keep from dwelling on darker thoughts. 'From my experience, they're always looking for someone to plague, or someone to train. Can't ever have too many healers, you know.'

'Unless you're a Took,' Rosemary said. 'For some reason, Tooks don't like healers.'

'Oh, I like them just fine,' Pippin said, pulling a face, 'so long as they keep their distance.' Rosemary chuckled and excused herself, then went out to the henhouse, "to make sure the children didn't miss any of the eggs," and to have a good cry.

Breakfast finished and the washing up done, Ferdi sat down by the hearth and took up a stick to carve. Hilly stationed himself by the door, keeping an eye on all in general and Ferdibrand in particular. Earlier, he had asked him softly, 'Am I supposed to bind you?'

'You're asking me?' Ferdi replied, and laughed at his old friend's expression. 'Don't worry, Hilly, I'm not about to do anyone any harm.' Now he carved at his stick as if it were the most important task in the world, paying no heed to anyone else in the room. There was no point in talking further; it would only grieve the Bolgers, and it wouldn't sway Meriadoc from his belief that Ferdi had lost himself. No, Tolly would have to do that, if he could – or Faramir, wakening from his fever, would have to set things straight. At least his head was growing clearer as the morning passed.

Rosemary sat the children down to do their lessons, but of course their minds weren't on their work. Several of them could read only a few words before subsiding into silence or dissolving in tears, and finally Rosemary ended the reading and told them to draw pictures on their slates instead.

'Where is Reginard?' Everard fretted.

'He has a much longer journey from Tuckborough than we had,' Merry reminded him, 'and remember all the trees that were down across the road! They would not have travelled in that storm, any more than we did. Even if they set out before it struck, they would have sought shelter rather than risk that lightning.'

'They would not have gone as quickly as you did, in any event,' Hilly put in. 'You were using the post ponies, riding at a gallop all the way and changing to a fresh mount at every inn.' He took a sip of tea and added, 'I'd expect them on the morrow, perhaps by breakfast time.'

'Good,' Merry said. 'That will give us all day to take Tolly's testimony, and perhaps Faramir will be awake by then and able to tell us something. Tomorrow evening will be three days since we heard Ferdibrand – I must render judgment before three settings of the sun.'

The time limit was meant to prevent trials from dragging on and on; a good system, Merry had always thought it. From the time the accusation was formally presented and the accused made answer, till judgment was given, only three sunsets were permitted. Shire tradition held that that was long enough to hear witnesses and come to a decision. More than three sunsets, and the accused hobbit walked free.

It might have been better to carry Ferdi back to the Smials before charging him, Merry thought now. If Reginard was delayed another day, he would have to give judgment without hearing Tolly, something he didn't at all want to do. He had the report of Tolly's confession, but it was second-hand evidence; he wanted to hear the story from Tolly's own mouth, before he decided.

But he couldn't have left Pippin here with Farry ill and raving; and they couldn't have traveled with the lad as sick as he was. He would just have to hope that the hobbits from Tuckborough arrived by morning. He rubbed at his forehead, reflecting that it was a bad business all around and he didn't know what he could have done differently, to improve matters.

The tension was telling on the children, as well. One of them gave a sob, and the rest busied themselves soberly with their drawing. None of them had much appetite for elevenses, and at playtime they huddled together, the littlest on a sister's lap, sucking his thumb, till Rosemary in desperation gathered them around herself, to tell a round-robin story. Then she had to prepare the late noontide meal, but she might have saved herself the trouble, for no one was hungry. The children seemed relieved when time came for afternoon chores, meaning they could leave the house for a while.

Supper was again a silent meal, and washing up was not accompanied by the usual singing. Afterwards, Merry went in to the bedroom to check on Faramir.

The lad appeared to be in a heavy sleep. 'How is he doing?' he asked Pippin, sitting down in the other chair.

'Still fevered. He's talked a bit, but nothing that makes any sense.'

Merry shook his head. 'I would give much to hear what he'd have to say before I have to render judgment. I simply cannot believe this of Ferdi... and yet I have to! All the evidence is against him.'

'Flimsy evidence that it is,' Pippin said. 'Merry, do you really think hobbits capable of such treachery? We are not Men; we have never had such doings in the Shire.' Ferdibrand had acted as level-headed as he ever was since their arrival. They had only Rosemary and Hally's word that he had not been himself before today.

'Hobbits threw in their lot with the ruffians, remember,' Merry said. 'That was a mess to clear up.'

'There weren't many who took up with the ruffians. That was a mercy.'

'Not many, but even a few were too many,' Merry said. 'Enough to show us that hobbits can be affected by the poisonous leanings of wicked Men.'

'You think Ferdi's mind has been poisoned, after all this time?' It was years since the Troubles, Pippin thought. Years! Would they never reach the end of that evil?

'I think he's gone off his head,' Merry said sadly. 'And the worst of it is, he doesn't seem to realize what he's done. He thinks that by stealing your son, he was somehow saving him.'

'So tomorrow you'll banish him. Bind him, brand him, carry him over the Bounds and leave him there.' Pippin's voice was bleak.

'Would you have me set him free? He's a menace to your son, at the very least, with this wild notion of his.' Merry's fingers twitched and he grasped his knees firmly, wishing he could smoke. A pipe would busy his fingers and take his mind off his thoughts, but of course it was out of the question in a sickroom. If things remained quiet, he'd take himself off for a smoke later on, a few moments of calm in this maelstrom of trouble. 'If Tolly cannot convince me that Ferdi's story is truth, I see no other course before me.'

'And if you're not satisfied with his story, you'll brand Tolly and cast him out as well.' Pippin bowed his head. Two friends, two kinsmen, and he would have trusted either of them with his life. Had trusted them with what he valued more than life, his family.

'I have no choice, Pippin, surely you see that.' Merry's voice seemed to come from a long way off. 'We cannot let this contagion spread, if contagion it is. I'd really like to hear what Farry would say. But even without his testimony, we have enough evidence to convict. I keep coming back to that note Ferdi wrote, and Tolly's confession.'

'Yes.' Pippin's anger stirred again. Tolly had admitted they were conspiring to keep his son from him; there was no getting away from that fact.

Faramir twitched and moaned softly and Pippin turned to him at once.

'It's all right, son.' He stroked the lad's hair caressingly, putting one dark curl back from the damp forehead, but Farry twisted in the bed, drawing up his legs and thrusting them out again, lost in dreams. Pippin wrung out the cloth and replaced it on his son's forehead, cool and soothing. 'It's all right,' he murmured again and Faramir's eyes half opened; he turned towards his father, reaching out a beseeching hand.

Pippin grasped the hand gently, but Faramir jerked away.

'Farry, it's all right,' Pippin said again.

'No,' Farry said, his voice pleading. 'Please, Ferdi, let me go...'

Pippin looked across at Merry, and his eyes were hard. 'You will do what you have to do, on the morrow, Merry. We will have no more child-stealing in the Shire.'

17. Some Thoughts on Child Rearing

Faramir had calmed and was sleeping peacefully when a shadow appeared in the doorway. It was Ferdi.

'What are you doing here?' Merry challenged him.

'I have something to say to Pippin,' Ferdi answered. He held Merry's gaze, and suddenly the Master of Buckland nodded and rose from his chair.

'I'd like to take myself off for a ride, if you can spare me for a while,' he said, laying a hand on Pippin's shoulder.

'Go ahead,' said Pippin. He pointedly ignored Ferdibrand. Merry hesitated, then shrugged and left the room. Ferdi sat down in the chair the Master had vacated without waiting for an invitation.

'Sure of yourself, aren't you?' There was steel in Pippin's tone. 'I don't know what you're thinking...'

'You will in a minute,' Ferdi said equably, 'for I've come to give you a piece of my mind.'

'Sure you can spare any?' Pippin said acidly.

'Just the one piece, Pip, but it is rather large, so if you have no objection…'

'Fire away,' Pippin said, and Ferdi smiled oddly. He didn't think his cousin was going to appreciate the arrows he was about to shoot, sharply tipped with truth and aimed at the heart of the matter.

'Do you want to know where your son was going?' he asked.

'It didn't appear as if he had much choice about it. I'm sure he was going with you, wherever you were headed.'

'He was going to Gondor,' Ferdi said.

'So you say.' Pippin was no longer even half-disposed to believe Ferdibrand. Faramir's frantic pleas for release had shaken him badly. And there was Ferdi's note – he always came back to that note.

'Can you guess why he was going to Gondor?' Ferdi persisted.

'If it was his idea at all, it would be a romantic notion, a fairy-story, nothing more. He's too young to remember much of our stay there, before we returned to the Shire.'

'Before you became Thain,' Ferdi said. 'That's what this is all about, you know.'

Pippin's face was grim. 'In the world of Men, they steal the children of those rich enough to pay for their return. Did you do this for gold, Ferdi? I find it hard to believe that of you.' His fists clenched and unclenched, belying his words.

'It has nothing to do with your treasure as Thain, or your power as Thain.'

'O?' There was a world of challenge in the quiet word.

'It has everything to do with your son. He was running away, you know, and I followed.'

'So you said.'

'So it was,' Ferdi said quietly.

'Why would Farry run away? I can see it as a childish game, running to the next hill, or the little wood, and creeping back again as soon as the food ran out or shadows grew too long for comfort.'

'Very common, that,' Ferdi agreed.

'But forty miles, Ferdi! What am I to think of that?'

'He was twenty-five or thirty miles from the Smials when I caught up with him,' Ferdi said. 'I admit, I took him further, forty miles in all, but I wanted him in a safe place where he could rest and heal and think.'

'And you didn't bother to tell his father, or mother, or anyone else where he was.'

'I sent word to Tolly,' Ferdi said. 'And I would have sent word to you on the morrow, or brought Farry to you, having given him a week to reflect.'

'How convenient,' Pippin said sarcastically. 'Tolly himself will be here on the morrow.'

'I did not want you coming the very next day to swoop Farry up and carry him home. He would only run again when his leg healed, and we might not be so lucky the next time.' Pippin's jaw tightened, and Ferdi knew he was thinking of the fox. He waited.

'What do you mean, "he'd only run again"?' Pippin rapped out at last.

'I mean exactly what I said. Why do you think he was going to Gondor?' he asked again.

'What does that have to do with it?'

'It has everything to do with it.' Ferdi's tone was emphatic. 'He was going because he knew he would be made much of there. Perhaps he even remembers something of the fuss over a tiny hobbit child, the son of the "Ernil i-something", whatever that odd phrase was they use. Showered with loving attention, petted, admired. What does he get at the Smials? Whispers and frowns.'

Ferdi put up a hand and rubbed gently at his forehead, a gesture Pippin had often seen when the weather was changing, though Ferdi never complained and seldom missed a day of work. He lowered his hand after a moment and continued. 'Why did he fall in with those particular cousins, that crowd of troublemakers, a while back? They made much of him, they hung on his words, they laughed at his jokes, "even the lame ones" as one of my lads told me at the time.'

'Diamond and I make much of him,' Pippin protested.

'Do you?' Ferdi asked quietly. 'Do you really? Tell me, when is he sure to spend time with you both?'

Pippin opened his mouth to speak, but Ferdi forestalled him. 'Breakfast, yes, I know you always eat early breakfast together, and then what was it, tea? Breakfast and tea, with mostly adult conversation, I suspect, and often at teatime there are distinguished guests and a young hobbit must be on his best behaviour.'

'I...' Pippin said.

'He spends more time with a minder, or an escort, or any number of folk who are not his mum and his da,' Ferdi went on inexorably. Might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb, as he’d heard Pippin say, though he had no idea why you’d hang a sheep unless to butcher it. 'He's being raised by everyone in the Smials, except for his own parents.'

Pippin tried to speak, but Ferdi held up a hand. 'And what now? A new babe on the way, and there'll be even less time for Farry, or that's how he sees it. He might as well take himself completely out of the way. He's really doing you a kindness, you know, giving you and Diamond more time to spend with the little one.'

Pippin's face was dark with anger, and Ferdi fell silent, the better to let him stew. When his cousin slumped and raised a hand to his face, he knew it was time for another spoonful of the bitter tonic. Hopefully it would do its work and cure the peculiar blindness that afflicted the Thain.

'Does the son of the Thain have to make an appointment to see the Thain?' he asked softly.

'Don't be absurd!' Pippin sat upright with a jerk.

'It might be difficult at that,' Ferdi agreed, maddeningly cheerful. 'I imagine 'tis very difficult to get an appointment, the Thain's that busy, you know.'

It hadn't always been that way. When he'd come back to the Smials to assume the title, Pippin had been a loving, attentive father, but the Thainship had a way of claiming as much time as a Thain was willing to give it, crowding out everything else, even what he held most dear. Pippin was silent, looking down at his sleeping son.

Ferdi continued relentlessly. 'How does Farry win your attention? When do you give him more of your time? When he makes mischief? Or when he makes good?' He let his eyes rest on Farry, the flushed cheek pillowed on one hand, a slight smile on his face. At least the lad's dreams seemed to be pleasant ones now. He took a deep breath. Time for the hardest truth of all.

'You're dying, Pip,' he said sadly. 'You do not know how much time you have left. Well, no one knows, really, but you – you lose a little more ground each year, and one day the Old Gaffer's Friend will come to claim you, sooner rather than later. What will Faramir remember of you? A father too busy to take him fishing, for one thing; a father who gave that job to his special assistant. And what words will you leave him with? A scolding? A reproach?'

Pippin sat rigid, scarcely breathing.

'You think on these things, Pip, and if in the morning you want your Brandybuck cousin to banish me, you tell him to go right ahead. Tell Pimpernel to meet me in Bree, if I must go. Perhaps we'll go on to Gondor, my Nell and myself and our children. I wouldn't want to stay in such a Shire, under such a Thain, who has time for any but his own.'

'You stayed under my father,' Pippin said hoarsely, 'and he treated you unjustly, indeed.'

'I had a duty to my own father. And whatever I might say about Paladin, tyrant though he might have been, at least...' he paused, then looked directly into Pippin's eyes. 'At least he stopped his work at teatime, every day, and spent time with his family. He raised his own children, and while you might not have appreciated it at the time, he helped to make you what you are this day.'

Ferdi bent over Faramir and pulled up the coverlet a bit, cupped his hand for a moment on the lad's cheek, and rose. 'I'm tired,' he said. 'It might be a big day on the morrow; guess I'd better turn in.' He walked out of the room, leaving the Thain staring silently at his son.

Hilly stiffened as Ferdibrand emerged from the bedroom and walked over to his pack, propped against the wall by the door. 'Don't stir yourself, Hilly,' Ferdi said wearily. 'I'm not going anywhere but to bed.' He picked up his neatly-folded blanket from atop the pack, took it over to the hearth - Everard now snored on the bed in the corner – rolled it out with a snap, and stretched himself upon it, his back to the room.

The rest of the family settled themselves uneasily for sleep. Rosemary was the last to retire, blowing out all the lamps but the one that she turned down low and set in the window. She stole over to Ferdi, bent and softly kissed his cheek. He sat up from the blanket and the two, brother and sister, shared a wordless hug for a long while before she rose and walked away.

In the middle night, Hilly stepped, soft-footed, over to where Ferdi lay watching the fire.

'You're not asleep,' he whispered.

'You noticed that,' Ferdi said. 'What gave you the clue? Was it the fact that my eyes were open?'

'Ferdi, be serious,' Hilly said. When Ferdi didn't answer, he went on, 'You can go; your pack's ready, right there by the door. I'll say I fell asleep; it'll only mean water rations for a few days. Go, Ferdi. Please go.'

Ferdi smiled. 'You've been a good friend, Hilly, but do me no favours now, if you please. Why should I run from an unfounded charge?'

'They found you forty miles from the Smials with the son of the Thain and no explanation. You wrote a note to Tolly asking him to keep the secret as long as possible, and he admitted that the two of you conspired. You know what will happen. It will likely be my hand that holds the brand on the morrow.' Hilly held out a trembling hand. 'Please, Ferdi.'

'If your hand holds the brand to my cheek, you had better steady it or you're likely to blind me.'

'Be serious,' Hilly hissed.

'I am being serious.' Ferdi smiled, took the hand and gave it a squeeze. 'It'll all come right in the light of morn,' he said. 'Tolly will set things straight.'

'And if they say Tolly was a part of it all? They'll banish him as well.'

Ferdi took a deep breath and let it out again. 'No matter what happens tomorrow,' he said, 'it'll be the right thing. Whether I'm cleared, or whether I'm banished, I can see my course clear before me.' Astonishingly, he chuckled. 'I wonder how many can say the same.'

Chapter 18. Table Talk

Tolly arrived before the dawn, with Reginard and an escort of two burly Tooks. The Bolgers were busy with morning chores when they rode into the clearing.

'I'm looking for the Thain,' Haldegrim Took said to the lad who came out of the byre to meet them.

'In the house.' Robin pointed, and went back to the milking. His father had told the children to stay out of the way as much as they could this day. Robin had a feeling they would be playing in the loft for a long time, while the grown-ups discussed their serious business in the house.

One of the riders took the ponies' reins while the others marched Tolly to the house. 'For all the world like a prisoner under guard,' Buckthorn whispered to Robin, peeking from the byre.

'Get to the milking,' Robin said shortly. He didn't want to think about what would be going on in the house. Uncle Ferdi was in big trouble, Robin knew that much, and he wondered at these important grown-ups who didn't seem to believe anything his uncle said. Couldn't they hear the truth in Ferdi's voice?

'So, Ferdi,' Tolly said as he entered the house, and the hunter looked up from the table where he nursed a mug of tea.

'You know better than to talk to him,' Haldegrim snapped. 'Wait until you've been questioned.'

Merry came out of the bedroom where Faramir still lay in fevered dreams. 'Tolly,' he said with a nod. He knew the head of escort from visits to the Great Smials.

'Master Meriadoc.' Tolly divined rightly that Merry would be questioning him, so he was allowed to reply when Merry spoke to him.

'Take off your cloak, sit down and have a cup of tea,' Merry said. 'Breakfast is not quite ready.'

The Master turned away, and Tolly cocked an ironic eye at Ferdibrand. 'Such a waste,' he said under his breath. He'd've made a good innkeeper, do you think? Ferdi caught the gist of his thoughts from his expression and snorted softly.

Haldegrim took three mugs down from the rack on the wall and poured the tea, shoving Tolly's across the table to him. Tolly added milk from the pitcher on the table and swirled the mug gently to mix it. 'We've been together a long time,' he said.

'No talking,' Haldegrim said again. He moved to sit next to Tolly, as if he thought he could serve as a better reminder of the trouble Tolly was in, sitting there. He nudged Tolly with his elbow, caught the head of escort's eye when Tolly looked over in annoyance. Be careful, his look said.

'I was just thinking aloud,' Tolly said in astonishment.

'Well, keep your thoughts to yourself.' Haldegrim's voice was hard. He didn't like his position, standing guard was what it amounted to, over Tolly and Ferdi, of all hobbits in the Shire. He didn't like it at all, but he would do his duty. 'You'll be silent, or you'll be gagged, Tolly.'

Tolly shrugged and rolled his eyes at Ferdibrand. Be serious, Ferdi thought, staring at him, but Tolly just shook his head.

'I told you so,' he muttered, then looked up in mock surprise at another elbow nudge. 'O, I'm sorry, Haldi. I keep forgetting.'

Hally and the boys came in from the barn and went to wash up. Rosemary and her girls began setting plates around the table, followed by platters of fried ham, potatoes cooked with bacon and onions, soft-cooked eggs in their shells and bowls of stewed fruit, and last of all, an enormous pan of apple crumble. The Bolgers gathered around the table, and Merry came out of the bedroom.

'Take a bite in there for the Thain,' he said quietly to Rosemary. 'He won't leave the lad alone, not even to eat.' She nodded and went to prepare a tray.

It was a silent meal. The children ate voraciously, after eating so little the day before, but there was none of the cheerful banter usual around this table, and they kept their eyes on their plates except for covert peeks at their uncle and the stern-faced Tooklanders. The grown-ups put food on their plates and then seemed unable to eat, taking two or three bites and laying down their forks, sipping at their tea. It seemed an age until the meal was over and the washing up done.

Merry looked significantly at Hally, and he turned to lay a gentle hand on his wife's shoulder. 'Will you take the children out to the barn, my dear? The Master would like to begin, I think.'

Rosemary stood for a moment with downcast eyes, pleating her apron between her fingers. Finally she looked Merry in the face. 'I would like to remain and hear what is said.'

'My dear –' Hally began, but she shook her head and took his hand in hers, her eyes still on the Master of Buckland. 'Ferdi is my brother. If he is to be banished this day, I have a right to hear the evidence against him.'

Merry nodded. 'Very well, Mistress. Will you take the Thain's place by his son, then, so he can sit in here with us? Leave the door open, and you will hear all that is said.'

'Thank you,' she whispered, and went into the bedroom while her husband herded the children out of the house. Pippin patted her shoulder as he passed her in the doorway, compassion on his face.

'We've heard from all the witnesses but one,' Merry began.

'You have not heard from Farry,' Ferdibrand protested.

'O we've heard quite enough from Faramir,' Merry said. He gave Ferdi a measured look. 'He wanders in fever, but his words are very clear.' He took a swallow of tea. 'We have enough evidence already, with your note and Tolly's confession.'

Pippin nodded grimly, holding his tongue with an effort. Let me go, Ferdi! His son's words had been clear indeed, and his attitude of desperation cut Pippin to the heart. Well enough for his special assistant to lecture him on his failings as a father – what had Ferdi been doing to the lad, to give Farry such a fear of him?

Tolly was cursing himself for his slip of the tongue, "conspiring", o whyever did he use that word in the first place? Of course they were conspiring – conspiring to prevent a scandal, to protect Pippin from the wagging tongues that would make his work as Thain ten times more difficult. It was hard enough, containing that wild son of his, Tolly thought. But what would this thick-headed Brandybuck know of Pippin's struggle to govern the Tookland, ill as he was, and shield his wife from worry, and – he sighed gustily.

He could understand the Thain's anger, he supposed. They'd gone about this whole thing the wrong way, but their intention had been to do him good, not ill…

'Very well, Tolly, let us hear your story,' Merry broke into his reverie.

Tolly sat up straight. This was his last chance, and he'd better make it good. 'Farry's minder came to me, just before teatime, the day the Thain left for Buckland,' he began. 'He said he couldn't find the lad, he'd looked everywhere he could think of, and could the escort help?'

'Go on,' Merry said when he paused.

'He was afraid to tell the Mistress,' Tolly said. 'He didn't want her to suffer a shock, knowing her condition and all...'

'The healers are being very careful, after last time,' Pippin put in quietly. There was no reason Diamond should lose this babe, no reason at all, but just the same the healers were treating her as if she were a goblet of fragile blown glass.

'You did not want to disturb the Mistress,' Merry said, putting Tolly back on the trail he was following.

'No. Well, I went over some of the same ground the minder'd been over,' Tolly said. 'Naught was missing, he'd taken no blanket, his pony was in its stall, his cloak hung on its peg, so he looked to be in the Smials. Then I started asking his friends, and found he'd borrowed a cloak "for a lark".'

'I see,' Merry said evenly. Tolly could not tell if his words were making any impression upon the Master.

'By then dark was beginning to fall, and I sought out Ferdi as the best tracker I know,' Tolly said. 'I didn't know what to do,' he admitted. 'I was afraid to tell Diamond, and the Thain would have been halfway to Buckland by then, and Reginard had gone to Tookbank on business. Ferdi would have been the one to tell, anyhow, since he'd been left in charge.'

'What did Ferdi say?'

'He said to tell Diamond the lad had gone with Pippin at the last moment, that he'd go off and find the lad, take him on to Buckland and make it the truth.'

'What else?' Merry asked.

Tolly shot a look at Ferdibrand, but Ferdi wouldn't meet his eyes. You've got to tell your own story, Tolly. They won't believe either of us if they think I've influenced you.

'I asked Ferdi how to keep Diamond from finding out, and he said to stop the post if need be.' He fidgeted nervously. He'd had his doubts about that at the time, but hadn't been able to think of a better plan. Sitting here now under the Thain's unrelenting stare, he wondered how he had dared to trifle with him. Strange, it was; he had always thought Pippin a lenient master. After Paladin, Pip's good humour and jesting had put the Tooks at ease with him, but Tolly realized suddenly that Pippin was as steel-willed as his father, for all his pleasant manners. Interfering with the Thain's letters painted the "conspirators" in a black light indeed.

'Is there anything else?' Merry asked, breaking into his thoughts once again.

'He said that if I heard nothing more, it would mean he'd found the lad and gone on to Buckland. I heard nothing more, so I thought all was well, until...' He broke off and shook his head. His story sounded weak even to his own ears.

'Is that all you have to tell me?' Merry pressed.

Tolly forced himself to meet Pippin's eyes. 'We are loyal to the Thain, both of us,' he said desperately. 'I know it sounds bad, but…' his voice trailed off. Pippin's face might have been carved of granite.

Merry cleared his throat. 'Ferdibrand, I have already heard from you. However, I would like to know what happened to the plan to take Farry to Buckland.'

'That was my plan,' Ferdi said slowly. He remembered that Rosemary was listening from the next room; she would catch any lie, and she would not let it go unchallenged.

He took a deep breath and decided to spill the entire truth. 'I made a bargain with Farry. He wasn't willing to go back to the Smials, and to speak truth, I didn't relish dragging him there kicking and protesting, or to Buckland, either.'

'What was your bargain?' Merry asked.

'I told him I'd bring him here, give him time to think things over and heal the slash in his leg, on condition that he was obedient and silent, because Hally'd never stand for having the son of the Thain under his roof without the Thain's knowledge. I passed Farry off as a lad I'd found in difficulty in the woods.'

'What would happen if he broke his end of the bargain?' Merry asked. Pippin was silent, his face hard. Ferdi glanced at him, then looked resolutely back at the Master.

'If he did not keep his bargain, he would go with me quietly wherever I chose to take him,' He put up a hand as if to ward off their outrage. 'It is not what you're thinking! I would have taken him to Buckland, to his father.'

'So you say.' From the heaviness in Merry's voice, it was plain that he did not believe him.

Rosemary, in the bedroom, was nodding. She could hear the truth in Ferdibrand's voice and was comforted by it. They would not believe her, of course, even if she tried to tell them. They would say she was only trying to protect her brother, poor mad hobbit, dangerously mad, as they thought. But yet – she had heard Faramir's pleas, as well. She remembered Ferdi's odd behaviour before the storm and her faith wavered. He could be telling the truth, what he thought was the truth, and still have gone round the bend. She bowed her head, weeping silently.

'And if Farry kept his bargain? What then?' Merry was asking.

'I would be bound to take him wherever he chose. I hoped he would have second thoughts, that he'd decide to go back to the Smials, or to his father in Buckland, but I was prepared to take him on towards Gondor if that was his choice.'

Pippin sprang to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor behind him. 'How dare you!' he demanded. 'How dare you make such a bargain with my son?' His voice shook with fury, and Merry reached out to catch his arm.

'Easy, Pip! He didn't get a chance to take Farry anywhere but right here, and he won't be taking him anywhere else.' He righted Pippin's overturned chair and gently pushed him into it. "Haldi! Another mug of tea for the Thain, please.'

'I would have sent you word!' Ferdi protested. Pippin was white, his breathing laboured, and Ferdi thought anxiously that much more of this would bring on an attack of the Thain's lung sickness. 'We would have gone to Stock, then North to the East Road, over the Brandywine Bridge. We would've gone right past the North Gate of Buckland – I would have sent word to you, Pippin, I swear it! We were on foot; you would have caught us easily, following a-pony-back.'

'You're mad,' Pippin said flatly.

'You may be right,' Ferdi sighed. 'It seemed a workable plan, and the only way to give Farry a chance to change his mind. I did not want to drag him back home against his will, only to have something worse happen in future.'

'I've heard enough,' Merry said abruptly, rising from his seat. He ticked off the points on his fingers. 'We have the evidence: first off, Farry's disappearance, hushed up by Ferdi and Tolly together. Whether or not the lad really ran away is beside the point; even were the minder to confirm their story, the fact remains, they conspired to keep word of Faramir's whereabouts from his parents, after he was found. Second, Tolly intercepted mail between the Thain and Mistress. Third, whatever he swears to now, Ferdi did not send word to either Pippin or Diamond; instead,' he ticked off the fourth point, 'the only note he wrote was to Tolly, urging him to "keep the secret".' He closed his fingers into a fist. 'For a mercy, the Thain sent for his son! Who can say what might have happened, if he had not?'

Merry had no more doubts. His outrage turned to fury as he looked from face to face, ending with Pippin. As if Pippin had not suffered enough, with his failing lungs, with Diamond's miscarriage – now add to that the faithlessness of trusted friends. Kinsmen, even. His eyes flashed. He fought down rage – a red haze that rose up before his eyes, a very unhobbitlike feeling, as if he could this moment seize the brand and burn the mark of banishment into Ferdi and Tolly's faces without compunction, without compassion, without mercy. The rage was replaced by the cold determination he'd known on the field of Pelennor as he'd stabbed upwards into the Lord of the Nazgul. This thing must be done, for the good of the Shire.

'Bring the children in the house and keep them busy,' he said brusquely to Hally. 'Shutter the windows. You will not want them to watch this.'

In the bedroom, Rosemary sobbed helplessly, muffling the sound in her apron. Farry squirmed restlessly in the bed, but did not wake.

19. Crime and Punishment

The clearing was still muddy from the storm, and the fallen branches lying around the yard were too wet to burn. Hally indicated the wood shed and turned away, making no effort to help. The Tooklanders carried out armloads of split logs and Hilly built his fire. It was a grey morning, chilly and overcast, but none of the hobbits who stood watching came forward to warm cold hands over the flames.

Ferdi and Tolly sat on a bench by the front door, guarded by one of the escort who had come with Haldi from the Tookland. Master and Thain stood off to one side, talking in low voices.

'It's plain enough that they were both fully involved,' Merry was saying.

'No!' Ferdi called desperately; Merry's voice carried clearly in the still air. The secrecy had been Ferdi's idea in the first place. Tolly had gone along with the plan reluctantly, as not having anything better to propose. 'Tolly had nothing to do with it! He was just following orders, he didn't know...' His voice trailed off and he stopped, for the first time uncertain.

'Didn't know what?' Merry asked with deadly quietness.

'Put him on water rations, suspend him for poor judgment, sack him if you have to, but he's done nothing to deserve the brand!' Ferdi said, regaining his tongue. He would not lie; he would not falsely claim the guilt they had assigned to him, not even to save Tolly, but he would save Tolly if he could.

'It's all right, Ferdi,' Tolly said gloomily. 'I made my bed, and I'm ready to lie in it.' He'd known it would come to this, even as they sat in the house sipping at the dregs of their tea. The Master of Buckland had made up his mind, and that was that. They thought that Ferdi had lost his mind – at least he had that much excuse! – and Tolly, well, he was a villain of the blackest hue, having given his aid to this child-stealing with open eyes, to pay his debts. Tolly wondered wryly why it seemed to occur to no one that a hobbit who valued his honour enough to be ashamed of debt would be unlikely to sink to treachery against his sworn oath.

But there was no use bringing that up; they hadn't believed a word he said so far. He wouldn't have expected much else from a Bucklander, actually. The Thain, though… Tolly shook his head. Pippin feared for his son; he had no thoughts to spare for the proven loyalty of long service, not though it was made more certain by a solemn vow.

For if the Thain abandoned them, there was no recourse; nothing to do but make the best of a bad bargain. Tolly sighed, and Ferdi turned to him. 'I'm sorry, Tolly,' he said. He felt numb; Tolly had trusted him, and it had come to this.

'Ah, well,' Tolly said with a shrug, 'If one must go into exile, 'tis better to go in company.' He held his hands out to Hilly, ready to be bound, and met Ferdi's eye with a steady gaze. 'The brand only hurts for a short time,' he said stoutly, 'and a burn is soon healed.'

'Don't,' Hilly said under his breath, and Tolly turned an ironic look on him. 

'Just be glad you were left out of it,' he said, standing wearily to his feet and holding out his hands to his younger brother. Time to get on with it. 'O and give my love to my wife and children, if you will.'

'You're as mad as he is,' Hilly said, binding his wrists. Firm, the bonds must be, but not tight enough to cause pain. He felt between Tolly's wrist and the rope, to be sure.

'He's not mad,' Tolly returned as Hilly turned to do the same to Ferdi. 'Let's get this over with, I cannot stand this waiting and worry.'

'Fire's not quite hot enough, yet,' Hilly said.

'Just my luck,' Tolly muttered, wondering how long he would be able to keep up his nerve. He looked to Ferdi again, standing miserably beside him. 'So, Ferdi, where shall we go? Gondor, d'ye think?'

'It's as good a place as any,' Ferdi said absently, then came back to the present moment and said, 'Ah, Tolly, I am that sorry...'

'If you apologise again I'm going to flatten your nose for you,' Tolly said pleasantly, 'and then I'll be in real trouble. Water rations for sure.'

'Who'll be first, then?' Hilly asked, plunging the iron into the fire. Take things one step at a time, try not to think about what you have to do. Only twice in his life had it been his duty to brand a hobbit sentenced to be expelled from the Shire. He was about to double his record, and that by setting the brand on friends, comrades: one his cousin, the other, his brother. I'll retire from the escort after this, he thought. I'd sooner get my bread tilling the soil; 'tis cleaner work.

'Age before beauty,' Tolly said politely. 'I'd offer to go first, but Ferdi's that wedded to protocol, he'd never stand for it; I'd have to pull rank on him to get my way.'

'Hah!' Ferdi retorted. 'You're all of one month younger, scamp! Just because you're head of the Thain's escort, don't think you can look down your nose at me.'

Haldegrim ignored the talk. He'd worked under Tolly a long time as one of the Thain's escort, and he saw no point in stifling any talk now that the Master had passed judgment. He kept his expression blank but his heart was sick within him. Reginard and Everard stood silently at Hally's side, reluctant witnesses to the carrying out of the sentence.

'We're ready, Sir,' Hilly said tonelessly to the Master, who had walked a few steps apart, still in quiet conversation with the Thain.

***

Inside the house, Rosemary straightened up from Farry's bed. 'His fever's broken,' she said to Robin, hovering nearby. 'The Thain will be glad of that.' Her voice trembled, and the lad knew she was thinking of Ferdibrand, though they'd heard no sound from outside as yet. Surely he'd not be able to remain silent when the brand was applied...

'Farry?' Rosemary said now, 'Farry, do you hear me?' There was no response, and she sighed. 'I imagine he'll sleep awhile. His body's worked hard, fighting off the illness, and he's likely exhausted.'

'I'll watch with him, Mum,' Robin said, 'if you want to teach the little ones.'

'I suppose I'd better. Your father said to keep them busy about the work they'd be doing any other day.' Hally was out in the yard, one of the witnesses. She got up, dropping a kiss on Robin's head. 'Thank you, dear one. Let me know if he wakens, or speaks,' she said.

'I will,' Robin said, and settled in the chair by the bed. Was Ferdi truly mad? he wondered. Faramir might know.

As soon as his mother had gone out of the room, he leaned over Faramir, pinching him sharply. 'Farry!' he hissed. 'Farry, wake up!'

***

'Have you anything to say before we proceed?' Merry asked. It was a prescribed question, and he spoke the words mechanically. Ferdi and Tolly stood before him, their hands bound, and Haldegrim held the bags that would go over their heads after the branding. The other Took guard, Isenard, had tacked up ponies and tied them, waiting, ready, to carry them to the Bounds. Every part of the ritual would be carried out punctiliously this day, separating them forever from the Shire. They would be outside the border, never to return, before the Sun reached her nooning.

Ferdi shook his head. Why say anything more, when they had believed nothing he had said already? He hoped Pippin would at least deliver his message to Pimpernel, but he had no certainty of it. His Nell was the Thain's sister; likely Pippin would not want her following his cast-out former assistant into exile. Ferdi's heart contracted. He would wait a while in Bree, in case she came, she and the children. It was all he could think to do.

Tolly was outspoken to the last. 'You're making a mistake,' he said solidly, 'and I only hope you'll live long in bitter regret.'

Isenard and Haldegrim eased Ferdi to the ground, holding him immobile as Hilly lifted the glowing iron from the fire. Ferdi made no resistance, was even grateful for their hands holding him still so that he could not jerk away and end by being blinded as well as branded. He had as much courage as most hobbits, he thought, but it was another matter to control the body's natural recoil from red-hot iron…

Hally looked away, staring into the woods without seeing them, but Master and Thain watched, their faces resolute. Suddenly a movement distracted them all; Reginard, as though drawn against his will, took two steps forward. 'Don't do this,' he said, the words forcing themselves out against his better judgment. Hilly's hand began to shake, try as he would to control it, and he put the iron back into the fire, kneading his palm vigorously with the other hand as if he'd developed a cramp.

’I cannot,’ Hilly muttered, ‘I cannot—Haldi?’ He tried to catch the other guard’s eye, but Haldegrim stared fixedly at the ground, his hands tightly gripping Ferdi’s shoulders, stolidly enduring, waiting for this farce to be finished. What he’d do when it ended, he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he could continue to serve the Thain; perhaps he would ask to be released from his oath. It was a disgraceful thing to do, but surely less disgraceful than what he was doing now. Beside him, Isenard released Ferdi, took a deep breath, and took hold again.

'What did you say?' Merry 's voice was menacingly calm, his eyes like steel, a snake about to strike, or the pause between lightning flash and thunderclap.

'Don't do this!' Regi said, his voice growing in conviction. 'I cannot believe you are carrying out this sentence—What proof have you got, that they meant any harm to Faramir?'

'You heard the evidence, Reginard.' Pippin sounded remote, cold as endless winter.

'Have you lived so long among Men that you've forgotten what it is to be a hobbit?' Regi demanded. 'They are loyal Tooks, bound by oath to your service, and you will not even wait to hear what Faramir might say. By the third sundown, it has to be, and this not even mid-day! How will it be if Farry awakens this afternoon and clears them – can you pull the brand back off their cheeks, and call them home? What is this rush to judgment?'

It was as if Regi's voice had turned them all to stone like the Trolls in old Bilbo's fairy tales. They stood staring at one another, Ferdi lying in the firm grip of his guard, when the door of the house opened suddenly and crashed back against the wall.

'Wait!' A blanket-wrapped figure stood tottering in the doorway, his child's voice piercing the air, wild and desperate. 'Wait!'

Robin appeared next to him, holding him up, and Pippin cried out wordlessly and set off across the yard in long strides.

'Don't!' Faramir cried, stumbling forward, and fell into his father's arms.

'Robin, what are you doing?' Rosemary rushed outside, flustered, wrapping her arms around herself against the shock of cold air. 'Hally, I'm sorry, I was making up the girls' beds with Parsley; I didn't see...'

Pippin had swept Farry up in his arms, Merry following to tuck the blanket around him more securely, taking off his own cloak to add to the lad's wrappings.

'You ought to be in bed,' Pippin said, turning to bear Faramir back to the house.

Faramir struggled weakly in his arms. 'Don't let them brand Ferdi, don't! He didn't do anything, Da, he didn't! It's all my fault!' The lad hid his face against Pippin's shoulder, breaking into tears.

'Hush, hush, Farry, don't overtax yourself. I'm that glad you're awake, but you mustn't get upset. You've been very ill, lad; you gave us all a fright,' Pippin tried to soothe him.

'You're banishing him because I ran away,' Faramir sobbed, 'and it's not his fault! He was only trying to help.'

Pippin patted his back and talked softly in the lad's ear, carrying him into the warm kitchen, paying no mind to the grim tableau in the yard. Merry turned back to the waiting hobbits.

'Come inside,' he said. 'It's too cold to stand around out here. Let him up,' he added, to the guards restraining Ferdi. 'We'll warm up with a pot of tea and sort this out.'

Ferdi was helped to his feet by those who had been holding him down. He raised an eyebrow at Tolly as they were escorted back into the house, and Tolly laughed shakily. At Hally’s look of astonishment, the head of escort muttered, 'Well. That turned out better than I expected.'

Chapter 20. Sifting Truth from Error

'So you believe me now,' Ferdibrand said. He did not lift his mug to his lips, though the tea had cooled to drinking temperature. His hands were trembling, now that it was all over, and he wrapped them around the mug to hold them still.

Tolly sat between Haldegrim and Isenard. His bonds had been removed, but he still had the feeling of sitting under guard. Funny, he thought. None of the escort was drinking their tea, nor Reginard, nor his brother Everard. Isenard stared down into his cup as if it held the answers to every question he’d ever posed, while Haldi stared grimly before him, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Tolly could easily imagine what they were thinking. Today the Thain had turned on Ferdi and Tolly, regardless of their loyalty up until now, extending no grace for mistakes: he had refused to listen to them. What would the morrow bring? Who would be next?

'I don't know what to believe,' Merry said. 'You could have convinced the lad of anything, for madness has been known to conceal itself in cleverness.'

Farry sat by the fireplace, bundled in his blanket in Hally's big chair, a pillow from the bed stuffed behind him. He looked up from his own mug of hot milk with cardamom. 'Uncle Ferdi isn't mad, Merry. Ferdi is the bravest, most sensible hobbit I know! I might still be up in that tree, if not for him – I was that afraid of the fox, I'm not sure I would've ever come down.'

'Ah, you would have, lad,' Ferdi said easily. 'Twas good sense on your part, to make sure he was gone before you climbed down.'

Farry shot him a grateful look, but Pippin's face was stricken. Farry had run from him, he was beginning to realise, from him and everything he stood for: the Thainship, the unending protocol, the whispering tongues and impossibly high expectations that surrounded the lad at home. A father wanted to be a hero to his son, if to no one else, but Ferdibrand was Farry's hero.

It's my own fault, he thought. I turned him over to Ferdi, because I had more important things to do. What was one small lad, against the whole of the Tookland?

Only everything, he thought, everything that really mattered. He would have resigned the Thainship on the spot, but for the thought that Faramir would be unlikely to think that either brave or sensible.

'So, Farry,' said Merry. 'Now you're awake – do you want some more milk, lad? – we are waiting to hear your story.'

Farry gulped what was left in his mug and handed it to Rosemary to be refilled. 'I ran away,' he said, his eyes down cast.

'Why –' Pippin began, but Merry silenced him with a gesture.

'What time did you leave the Smials?'

Farry looked surprised. 'At teatime. I told Auntie Nell I wanted to take tea with my mum, and Mum thought I was still there, so no one would miss me. Everyone was inside eating; no one saw me leave.'

'And where were you headed?' Merry asked.

'To Gondor. I thought I would go and ask the King if I could serve him, as Father served the Steward. They like periannath in Gondor.' Farry smiled, looking down at his hands. In Gondor he would not be the Thain's miscreant son, of no use or delight to anyone. In Gondor he would be Ernil i Periannath, as his father had been.

'But you met with a fox. How did you get away from it?'

Farry shuddered. 'I kept hearing something behind me, in the bushes. I picked up a stout stick, but I was so scared...’ He met his father’s eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Da, I tried to be brave…’

Pippin could not speak, but his eyes reached out to his son as words could not.

’I kept turning round, trying to tell myself it was nothing, and then… I turned round, and he was jumping at me! I thrust my stick at him and it caught him in the mouth; he shook his head and I leaped for the nearest branch. I felt him catch my leg, but his teeth slid free. I didn’t even know he’d scored me until I saw the red of the blood.'

The hobbits round the table were silent, horrified, picturing a terrified child grabbing at a branch and dragging himself up into the tree, the fox nearly getting a grip on his leg to pull him down. No wonder the lad was afraid to come down.

'And there you stayed until Ferdi found you. You must have been glad to see him.'

'No,' in a small voice. 'I thought he would make me go home.'

Now they had come to the point. 'As he should have done, indeed,' said Merry, with a stern look at Ferdibrand. 'Why did he not take you home, Farry?'

'I told him it didn’t matter if he took me home: I would run away again, the first chance I got, and if he caught me, I would do it again. I would run away as many times as I had to, ‘til he got tired of coming after me and let me go.'

The words were like knives in Pippin's heart, and he strove to keep his face from showing what he felt. He had lost Farry, that was bitterly clear to him now. He could bring him back to the Smials; he would bring him back, of course, but he had lost his son. Perhaps he should face facts, send his son on to Gondor, safe, with a strong escort? He could not have the lad running away, over and over. Foxes were the least of the dangers he would face.

Ferdi took a sip of his tea, finding to his satisfaction that he could control his hands now. He drank the sweet, milky brew thirstily, barely warm though it was. It was a relief to hear Farry's testimony, clearing him of child-stealing. Farry could have spun some fable, to throw the blame off his own shoulders, but no; he was an honest child, and told the tale the way it happened. He looked up to see Pippin’s face, and his satisfaction turned to bile.

'So Ferdi found you, and he cooked you a nice supper, there in the woods, and bandaged your leg. Were you very hungry?'

'Yes!' Farry was emphatic, remembering how hungry he had been.

'So you were glad to see him for that, at least. Had you not eaten since you left home, Farry?'

'No.'

Robin looked up sharply. Farry was lying, and he wondered why.

Merry raised an eyebrow. 'Not at all? You ran away without any food, lad? Not very foresighted, are you?'

'No. Yes! I took some food, Uncle Merry, but not enough. I ate it all, and I was hungry after that.'

That was truth.

'So you ran out of food, the first day, or the second. How did you expect to travel all the way to Gondor, without food?'

'I – I don't know,' Farry admitted.

Merry smiled, laying his hand for a moment on the child's head. How like the young Pippin was his son, flying off on impulse and never a thought for the consequences. He needed an older cousin about him, to rescue him from the scrapes he got into, as Merry had done for Pippin long ago.

'You must learn to think of such things, Faramir, before you go off to travel in the wide world. So you ate up all your supplies, and then you had nothing to eat until you met with Ferdi.'

'That's right.'

'He's lying,' said Robin, and they all turned to stare at him. 'I'm sorry, Farry! But you can't lie now; it all depends on you, what they do to Uncle Ferdi and Tolly. You have to tell the truth.'

Rosemary was nodding, and Merry turned to her.

'What is this all about? Has Farry been awake before today, talking with Robin?'

'No, of course not!' She was shocked. 'I would have had you and the Thain in there on the instant, had he wakened, to hear his story if for no other reason! Robin knows the truth when he hears it, that's all.'

'He knows the truth,' Merry repeated. 'How does he know?'

She shook her head. 'He just does, Master Merry. So do I, and Ferdi, too – we can always spot a lie.' It was something she'd never been able to explain, but she took it for granted, just as she took for granted that Hally would let her sort out any disputes between the children.

'They know truth when they hear it, all three of them,' Hally said.

'We could never slip anything by our mother,' Ferdi said, cupping his hands around his mug to feel the lingering warmth. 'She always knew.'

'You know when someone's lying to you?' Pippin said. 'Why did you never tell me?'

'You never asked,' Ferdi said simply.

'O to have a truth-sifter when hearing a dispute!' Merry said. He was beginning to feel sick at what they'd nearly done. If Faramir had not awakened when he did, would Ferdi and Tolly be past the Bounds by now, cast out and branded for life? He buried the thought for the nonce, allowing himself to be distracted by this reveleation. 'Pippin, d'you know what you have?'

'I'm beginning to suspect,' Pippin said. 'It's why I could never slip anything past Ferdibrand, or hardly anything.'

'Except when you misdirected me with the truth,' Ferdi said, 'or partial truth, like the time you took off in that ice storm, not wanting to be encumbered with an escort.' He thought back. '"We are not bound to leave on the morrow, if a better day presents itself. Let's keep our options open." '

'Never!' Pippin protested.

'Your exact words,' Ferdi said.

'O that's right, I forgot,' Pippin replied in chagrin. 'You remember all you hear, as well.'

Ferdi inclined his head gravely and Merry laughed, while the other hobbits bit their tongues, trying to conceal their amusement.

'I do believe you're not mad,' Merry said when he could speak again. 'Daft, perhaps, but not fallen off that pony yet.'

'Not quite yet, anyhow,' Ferdi said.

’I wouldn’t know about that,’ Tolly drawled. ‘I can name any number of mad things Ferdi’s done.’ The rest of the hobbits of the Thain’s escort began to chuckle. ‘Sliding down a muddy bank above a raging torrent, for starters, with no rope and only tree roots to hold to...’

’Learning to swim,’ Isenard put in. ‘No, wait, the Thain requires that of all his escort.’

’We’re all mad, then!’ Haldi said cheerily. ‘At least, all the rest of the hobbits of the Shire would think so.’

’Save the Brandybucks,’ Tolly corrected, ‘but then, everyone knows they’re all mad...’ He glanced at the Master, suddenly aware that his remarks might be taken askance, and he was not yet out of the woods. Reprieved, perhaps, but not fully in the clear, at least, no one had said as much yet. The rest of the escort followed his thought, and caution descended upon them once more as they glanced from Thain to Master.
 
Merry hadn’t been listening, for the idea of truth-sifting had seized his attention for the nonce, pushing away the knowledge of what must yet be done. He had heard about it, read about in old records, but had never known anyone capable of knowing truth undeniably when he heard it.

'I thought it was an old talent that died out some generations ago,' he said. 'I've not heard of it in this day and age, have you, Pip?'

'Not even in Gondor,' Pippin said, 'and they have many wondrous things there.'

'Though... Frodo had a touch of it, I think,' Merry mused aloud. 'It would explain how he knew he could trust Gollum, at first, when he and Samwise took him on. Later, of course, as his mind became clouded...'

'It sounds as if there's a story to be told,' Ferdi said.

'Later, perhaps,' Merry responded absently, staring into his cup. Never, he thought. He would never tell that story, Frodo's descent into madness, overcome by the Ring. The glorious end of the tale, the Field of Cormallen, did not lessen the horrors of the middle. He blinked, pushing away the memories, forcing himself back to the present. Pippin met his eyes across the table, and Merry knew that he, too, was remembering things he would prefer to forget.

Ferdi and Rosemary shared a look. The Master had no intention of telling any more of that story, later, or ever, from the tone of his voice.

'Let me warm that tea for you; it must be ice cold by now.' Rosemary took Ferdi's mug out of his hand, and he smiled up at her. Happiness flooded him, realizing fully at last that his name was cleared – he would not be exiled, driven away from everyone and everything he loved, his sister not least. His smile became a grin, and Rosemary beamed back at him, reaching out to muss his hair.

'Little brother,' she whispered, and turned to pour him a fresh cup.

'Eat, Farry,' said Parsley, setting a laden tray on Faramir's lap. 'You haven't eaten in days; you have to catch up.'

'And then you ought to go right back under those covers for a nap,' Rosemary said. Faramir made a sour face, and she laughed.

'He's a Took, all right,' she said.

'Isn't it time for elevenses?' asked Tolly. 'Nearly getting banished from the Shire gives me an appetite, can't speak for the rest of you.'

Rosemary chortled – it wasn't funny, no, it really wasn't – and yet it was! Everything was funny now; she was giddy with relief and ready to laugh and sing and dance the springle-ring round the kitchen. And what would the Thain say to that, she wondered, glancing over where he sat stern-faced at the table, staring at the grain of the well-scrubbed wood. She laughed again, thinking of Pippin's probable reaction, if she really began to dance.

'Time for elevenses, and cold enough for hot toddies,' she said merrily. She went into the pantry for the wine and spices, and Hally brought out a bottle of the Hall's finest.

It began to feel almost like a party. Hally passed around glasses of the hot toddy, and Rosemary made bacon sandwiches with wilted greens. The girls arranged an assortment of cheeses prettily on a platter and brought out jars of spiced apples and brandied pears. Ferdi put his feet up on an empty chair and began to relax for the first time since he'd learned that Farry had run away, the escort hobbits’ frozen caution began to thaw, and Tolly's jokes got wilder as the toddy in his glass slowly disappeared. Only Everard and Pippin, of all the Tooks round the table, remained uncharacteristically silent.

Pippin sipped at his mulled wine morosely without tasting it, and it did nothing to warm him. He hardly heard Tolly's jesting. He cast a glance now and then at Farry – he didn't want to stare at his son, and yet there was nothing else in the room he cared to look at. The lad was tucking into his tray of food as if he meant to make up for all his missed meals at one time.

'Don't make yourself sick now, Farry,' Pippin warned him. 'Your stomach will have to get used to being fed again, lad.' He smiled, not wanting it to sound like a reprimand, but Farry looked back at him gravely.

'I'll be careful, Da,' he said, 'but I am hungry.' Pippin left it at that. He had been far too quick to point out Faramir's faults in recent years, he saw that now, and he meant to make a change. For all the good it would do.

Merry stood up suddenly. He was pale, his eyes shining with something besides the mirth that was brightening the faces of almost everyone in the room, and his smile was a grimace. 'Pip. Come outside with me, will you, cousin?' He swirled his cloak around his shoulders and almost flung himself out the door without waiting for an answer.

Pippin dragged himself to his feet. He felt old, old and cold and ready to hang it up, hang it all up, and let some better hobbit take up where he left off. He fastened his cloak and pulled up the hood, stepping around Ferdi's legs to reach the door and closing it silently behind him.

The laughter had died away when Merry spoke. The hobbits left inside the house looked from one to another, uncomprehending. The crisis was over, wasn't it? What ailed the Master – and the Thain?

Chapter 21: Facing Facts

'I cannot believe what we nearly did.' Merry sat on the bench outside the door, where Ferdi and Tolly had sat a couple of hours earlier, waiting for the fire to be hot enough. 'We, who are sworn to uphold the King's justice! You know, Pip, I railed against Aragorn, when he told me Gondor's law demanded that he punish Beregond. Death or banishment, he said; 'twas one or the other. I railed against him and his law, and here I am –'

'But he didn't execute Beregond, or even banish him, really. Just sent him to Ithilien, and that was honour, not banishment.' Pippin wasn't following Merry's thought, was only half listening if the truth were known. He heard the peal of Farry's laughter inside the house, and his heart hurt in his chest.

'That's just the point!' Merry snapped. 'Aragorn knew how to temper justice with mercy. Wouldn't you think a hobbit could do as much? But there was precious little mercy about either of us today.'

Pippin didn't answer. He stood leaning against the doorframe, and Merry looked up in concern. 'Pip? Are you all right?'

'I'm well enough, Merry. Don't fuss.'

'Yes, it's likely you could put that over on me, isn't it?' Merry tried to pull his cousin down to sit next to him on the bench, but Pippin resisted, taking Merry's hand and putting it gently aside. 'Are you ill, Pippin? You've hardly left Farry's side since we got here; you might have taken his fever.'

Pippin walked a few steps away before he stopped and just stood there, defeated. 'I'm not ill, Merry. I — Ferdi came in to talk to me last night – well, you knew that. He said... he implied... no, he said it right out,' Pippin was fumbling for words.

'What did he say?'

'They tell me I'm a good Thain, you know. One of the finest.' Pippin gave a hard little laugh. 'Tookland is prospering, and the people are not so insular, so short-sighted, so...'

'Tookish?' Merry supplied, smiling in spite of himself.

'...Tookish,' Pippin agreed, 'as they were before I stepped up.'

'Yes, I'd heard that,' Merry said. 'Although letting the ceiling of the New Smials fall in on you was perhaps a step backwards.'

'They're getting over that,' Pippin said in dismissal. 'Besides, the New Smials were re-dug and finished and hobbits are living there now – no signs of the ceiling falling in on anyone's head – so I think we've put that behind us.' He kicked at a half-buried stone, grimacing as it stood firm against his assault.

'What does this have to do with Ferdi?' Merry said. He had visions of waiting for hours while Pippin talked around the subject.

'He said...' Pippin bent down, worked his fingers under the rock, pried it up, and cast it away into the woods. 'He accused me of neglecting Farry.' Pippin 's voice was so low that Merry nearly missed the words.

'He - what?' Merry said in shock.

'He said that Farry felt so unloved, so useless, the lad thought we'd be better off without him,' Pippin went on miserably. 'And he'd be better off in Gondor, where halflings are honoured. We wouldn't have to waste our limited time on such a troublesome child.' The Thain raised his face to Merry, and his eyes were brimming. 'The agony of it is – he's right.'

Merry was too shocked to reply.

'I used to while away hours with my little lad,' Pippin continued sadly. 'I couldn't get enough of his company; I delighted in seeing the world through his eyes. We used to take walks together, the three of us, Diamond and me with Farry between us, holding our hands, and I could have walked to Erebor and back again with them, and never grown weary.' His voice broke and he covered his eyes with his hand.

Merry moved to put his arm across Pippin's shoulders. 'Farry knows you love him, Pip.'

'Does he?' Pippin answered bitterly. 'I wonder. How many good words have I had for him, the past few years, weighed against the scoldings, the chidings, the disappointed looks and brush-aways because I was too busy? Ferdi's taken him fishing oftener that I have.'

Merry got up from the bench and began to stroll around the clearing, drawing Pippin with him, his arm holding his cousin close to his side. It was too chilly to sit still, despite the sun that was beginning to struggle out from behind the clouds, and walking might help, anyway.

'Diamond, too,' Pippin went on. 'She still hasn't got over losing that babe. She's been wrapped in her own sorrow; she's hardly had a smile for the lad these two years, and he thinks it's his fault! He blames himself – ah, Merry! If I had been more of a comfort to Diamond, if I had –'

'It’s “If only" and "should have" that will bring your head down to an early grave,' Merry said, quoting an old hobbit proverb.

'I'm destined for an early grave in any event.' Pippin's voice was low. 'You'd think I'd show more wisdom in using what time I have. What will it matter, how many papers I've slid across my desk, how many reports I've read, how many complaints I've heard, when I'm dead and gone? What will I leave my son? A handful of dust and ashes, slipping through his fingers, blown away on the wind!'

Merry had no words to offer. He cringed inside at Pippin's talk of death, but he knew – oh he knew, how his cousin failed a little more each year. Not something he wanted to think on, but it was there, always, in the dim recesses of his mind. And now Pippin was reaping the bitter harvest of his own choices. He had buried his grief for the lost babe by burying himself in his work, and only now did he see what this had meant for Farry.

'I've lost my treasure, Merry; I've lost my son.' The tears overflowed and he gave a choking sob. Merry wrapped both arms around him and let him weep.

'Farry's not quite lost yet,' Merry said, when the storm abated.

'He has more regard for Ferdibrand than he does for his own father; I can see that in him. I don't know if there's time enough to win back his heart, Merry.'

'While there's breath, there's life,' Merry said. 'You're not buried yet, Pip, and who knows how many sips are in the cup for any of us? I could fall from the Ferry into the River this very day, and be gone forever.'

'Bite your tongue!' Pippin said, horrified.

Merry chuckled and shook his head. 'My point is, Ferdi has given your son back to you; he's given you another chance. Faramir is willing to go back to the Smials, surely you saw that just now. Very well, he's going back for Ferdi's sake, because of what Ferdi risked for him, but he's going of his own free will, and that is something you can build on.'

Pippin pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose. 'You're right, of course. If not for Ferdi, the lad would be long gone by now.' He shuddered. 'Or starved to death up in that tree, mayhap.'

'You owe Ferdi a great deal.' They were at the far end of the clearing by now, where glowing coals were all that remained of Hilly's fire. The branding iron lay discarded on the ground where Hilly had dropped it, when Faramir ran out.

"I am deeply in his debt,' Pippin agreed. He bent over to pick up the iron, poking at the coals, spreading them out and trying to grind them into the dirt. Realization was setting in. 'I pay my debts handsomely, do I not? He saves my son, and I try to banish him with a brand on his cheek. He saved Farry, and Farry saved him – from me! I am not fit to be Thain, Merry.'

Merry grimaced. 'Nor I to be Master. Who have been too long around Men, Pippin – the Shire, or the Travellers?'

'We thought we would stop the contagion, and we are the carriers,' Pippin said bleakly. 'Reginard saw the truth – and Berilac, back at the Hall. He told us we had sewed this case up too neatly, without even hearing the evidence.' There was a fallen tree trunk at the edge of the yard, left from the storm, and Pippin sat down on it with a groan. 'Was it inevitable, Merry, that we'd come back changed like this? Hobbits are not wont to be so – implacable.'

'Frodo did not,' Merry said slowly. 'He came back more soft-hearted than he left. Soft in the head, I thought sometimes, and was shamed to be thinking such a thing. The Ring-bearer – he suffered more than any of us, but it did not make him hard.'

The memory of Frodo rose before them. There had been no hatred in him, no bitterness. Even Saruman had received mercy from Frodo.

'But could he have governed?' Pippin asked. 'We've done a great injustice, Merry; I am not sure I should not resign the Thainship over this day's work. But there must be justice as well as mercy, or evil will run rampant.'

'Frodo knew that.' Frodo understood about evil; who better than he? 'He did not invite Saruman to stay on! Only he would take no vengeance. I have been so angry, Pippin! I didn't trouble myself to really listen to Ferdi, or Tolly either, and I wouldn't wait until sundown for Farry to wake, because I was consumed with anger. Frodo would have listened, and so he would have heard the truth.'

'Sam too,' said Pippin. 'Not as merciful as Frodo, but he would have listened with an open mind. Perhaps we'd better have the Mayor hear all our cases, cousin.'

Merry laughed. 'He wouldn't do it; he's not such a fool! We'll have to hear our own cases, I'm afraid, but not unless we can bring more justice – and mercy, as well – to our judgments.' He sobered, meeting his cousin's eyes. 'Would you really step down, Pip?' If he had the choice to stay, that is? Merry thought. This day’s work was not yet over, after all, but he shoved that knowledge aside.

Pippin sighed. 'Who would take my place?' He stood up, shrugging as if he settled a burden on his shoulders again. 'No, I won't step down. I made a promise, Merry; I will not go back on it. But I think I will ask the Mayor for some memento of Frodo, an old pipe, perhaps, or one of his pens. I'll keep that on my desk where I can see it, to remind me.'

'A pen for you, and a pipe for me,' Merry said with a smile. 'I may even smoke it, when I'm hearing a difficult case.'

Pippin nodded. 'We'll try again,' he said. 'Let's go in; it's cold out here.'

Chapter 22. Debt

Merry took off his cloak and hung it on one of the hooks by the door as he came in, but Pippin kept his on and went to sit by the fireplace. Merry gave him an anxious glance, and looked around for Rosemary.

'Is there any of that hot toddy left?' he asked her. 'I'm afraid the Thain has taken a bit of a chill.'

She followed his eyes. The Thain looked well enough, but he was certainly very close to the fire, holding his hands out to the flames and rubbing them together.

'I'll make him a tisane, Master Merry - that'll do him more good than more wine. Just let me get the children settled to their lessons.' She bustled into the girls' bedroom. Merry could see through the doorway that all the children were gathered there, with their slates and books around them. A well-behaved gaggle of youngsters, he thought; that many children in one small room at the Hall would have been a disaster, but here, the oldest girls was reading a story to the little ones, while Robin whittled something in the corner. The littlest girl held a skein of wool stretched between her hands, while the middle sister wound it off into a ball. He didn't see Farry; he supposed the lad had been sent back to bed for a nap.

In a matter of minutes Rosemary had Robin working figures on his slate and the wool-winders sitting on the bed with one book between them. "Read to each other now, turn and turn about, to the end of the chapter. Parsley, when you finish that story, give them their slates and show them how to practice their letters, will you, dear? And you'd better write that letter to Aunt Pansy so it can go off to the Smials with Uncle Ferdi - I don't know how much longer he'll be here.'

Merry stood aside as she brushed past him to the herb cabinet, preparing to make Pippin's tisane. She took it for granted, apparently, that Ferdi would be willing to return to Tuckborough - Merry wasn't so sure. If I had come that close to the iron against my cheek, he thought… If I were Ferdi, what would I do? Or Tolly, either - marched off bound, between guards, under the eyes of everyone at the Smials - stars above! The Tooks will never forget it; the whispers will run like rats through the back corridors of the Smials for years to come, and not everyone will be content to believe the accusations false…

His thoughts ground to a sickening halt. The accusations were false. Shire tradition did not deal lightly with a hobbit who accused another falsely. He saw the bottle of brandy still out on the mantel shelf, and without asking he took down a mug and poured himself a stiff shot, downing it at a gulp. Poor manners, that, to help himself. He went to stare out the window, his back to the room; he'd worry about his manners later.

Haldi and Tolly were playing Kings, the other hobbits gathered round the table watching the game and talking quietly. Ferdi had been smoking, but he'd knocked out his pipe into the fireplace when Pippin came in.

'And there you are,' Tolly said with a laugh. 'Three games played, three games won - come along, who's next in line? You, Ferdi? No one else can beat me, but you might - 'tis your lucky day, as well as mine!'

Ferdi grinned. 'No, I'll just watch. Give someone else your place, Tolly, since you're invincible today.'

Pippin had thrown off his cloak, finally, and leaned back in his chair watching Rosemary working by the fire, pouring boiling water into a small teapot. She turned and brought a narrow tray table from the corner, setting it beside him, and he looked at her inquiringly.

'I've made you a tisane,' she said. 'You seemed a bit chilled, and we can't have you getting sick next.'

Pippin regarded the mug and the little teapot with a glum expression, seeming about to argue, but then gave in with a sigh. 'O very well, Rosemary. Thank you.' She chuckled.

'You're very welcome! I know you must be weary of having folk fuss over you.'

That drew a smile and he nodded pleasantly to her as he raised the mug to his lips. Then he caught Ferdi's eye, and his smile vanished. 'I have wronged you again, cousin,' he said quietly, 'for the second time in our lives. It is a wonder to me that you ever trusted me again after last time.'

'I didn't,' Ferdi said simply.

Pippin was taken aback, searching his cousin's face. 'Well, you're honest, anyway,' he said at last.

'O so you've finally noticed that?' Ferdi said with a lift of his eyebrows.

Merry had come over to stand by them, leaning one arm against the mantel. 'That brings us to our next point,' he said in a clear voice, and the buzz of conversation around the table died away as everyone looked at him.

Ferdi exchanged glances with Tolly. He was not sure he liked the sound of this. What next? Come to think of it, he'd never heard of a hobbit sentenced to banishment and then reprieved.

'Our next point?' Pippin asked.

'We have had a false accusation,' Merry said. 'We cannot sidestep the issue. Tradition requires that it be dealt with.' His eyes on Pippin were dark with sorrow.

Pippin felt as if the floor was falling away under his feet. 'Tradition calls for the punishment to fit the crime,' he said slowly. 'I have brought a false accusation against Tolibold and Ferdibrand. In justice I ought to bear the punishment I would have seen them suffer.'

'Banish the Thain?' Ferdi whispered, incredulous. 'Cousin, you jest! You must be jesting,' he said, half rising from the table.

'Sit down, Ferdi,' Merry said grimly. 'It is not a jest.' He stared into the fire, brooding, as if he might read some message in the dancing flames.

'This is ridiculous!' Ferdi protested, but he sat down. He met Tolly's eyes and saw that the head of escort was as horrified as he was.

'Don't forget me,' Everard said, and his brother Regi buried his face in his hands. 'I'm the one who spun a whole piece of cloth from spiderwebs. I ought to bear the brand, not the Thain - Pippin was only following the thread I spun.' It was a brave speech, from one who had always tried to walk uprightly, who had held himself to a higher standard, and usually lived up to it.

'Ev'ard,' Ferdi said, putting a hand on Everard's arm, but Everard jerked away. His elbow knocked against the forgotten Kings board, and it spun away to the floor, scattering pieces everywhere. No one bent to pick them up.

'No, Ferdi,' he said. 'I do not deserve compassion from you, nor forgiveness either. What I did-'

'You have it, nonetheless,' Ferdi broke in.

'How can you say that? We were your friends, your kinsmen, we've known you all your life! To believe such wickedness of you - and without even asking you to explain yourself - don't tell me you can forgive that. I could not!''

'I was a fool, Ev'ard,' Ferdi replied. 'And so was Tolly. I should never have tried to keep this from the Thain. I meant to protect him, but instead I hurt him, I betrayed his trust, I probably gave him some of the worst hours of his life, all the time thinking I knew what was best.'

'Speak for yourself,' Tolly said. Ferdi raised an eyebrow at him, and he looked away. 'O very well. You're right, I suppose. I was a fool to go along with it, and I've paid the price: I've had the scare of my life.' His hand went up unbidden to touch his cheek.

'I will never forgive myself for this,' Everard said.

'More fool you, then,' Tolly said bluntly. 'Ferdi's already forgiven you, and you have my forgiveness as well. Don't be stupid, Ev'ard, and make the situation worse by ruining your life over it.'

'His life is ruined already, if he's to be banished,' Ferdi said. He felt sick. He had precipitated this whole mess. If only he had thought things through... His head was beginning to ache again, and he rubbed at his temple impatiently.

'Must Pippin and Ev'ard really be banished to satisfy custom?' Tolly demanded. ' Where's the justice in that?'

'If they had acted in malice, there would be no alternative.' Merry was thinking out loud.

'But they did not, and so -?' Tolly said. He could tell Ferdi's head was bothering him again. He might well be getting too muddled to follow this through, so it fell to Tolly. He chewed his lip nervously; he wasn't used to arguing or volleying words, but he had to pursue any justice that might be dredged from this shambles.

Suddenly Pippin laughed and said incongruously, 'And we thought it was all about gold to begin with!'

'So there is an alternative?' Tolly said, his voice tart. ‘What?’ he demanded.

'Restitution,' Merry said. 'If I were judging this case, I would rule that Ev'ard and Pippin between them must pay your debt, for starters, since they suspected you of conspiring in order to clear the debt.'

'Pay my debt?' Tolly echoed in amazement. 'For starters?'

'Furthermore, you and Ferdi would be entitled to half of Everard's holdings, as well as half of... Pippin's.' There was a stunned silence.

'Half of the Thain's holdings?' Tolly said, unbelieving. He met Ferdi's dazed look. 'Half?' He shook his head, shocked beyond words.

'According to tradition,' Merry nodded. 'That would be the penalty.'

Rosemary had been moving quietly in the background. She came forward now, a teapot in each hand, and set them on the table. Parsley followed with a tray of mugs, and Rosemary returned with the cream and honey. They began pouring tea from the pots and sliding them down the table to the hobbits seated there.

Reginard cleared his throat. 'You said, “if” you were judging this case. You will have to judge it, Merry; there is no one else qualified but the Mayor, and he's away off in Hobbiton.'

Merry ran his fingers through his hair. It was true; there was no one else at hand. He remembered his rush to judgment in the morning and quailed. 'I cannot.' His voice was a groan. 'Send for the Mayor; I cannot judge this case.'

'No, Merry.' Reginard was firm, but he took a spoon and stirred honey and cream into the untouched mug at Merry's place. 'Here, drink up. We have to think of the good of the Shire. It would be madness to banish Pippin; he's the best Thain we've had in a hundred years. And there'll be gossip enough about this day's doings, between the Smials and the Hall, and all the inns along the route, with your express riders. Idle talk does none of us any good; it would only make it worse, dragging the Mayor into it. You will have to judge this case, but we will hold you to justice. That is what you fear, I think, that you cannot be fair where Pippin is concerned.'

Merry nodded, but Pippin said sharply, 'Are you implying that the Mayor would spread gossip, Regi?'

Regi looked surprised. 'The Mayor? No. Though he may have started as gardener, he has proven himself by now! But folk would see him coming out to Woody End, posthaste, and you and the Master here as well - you can't deny it looks odd, Pippin, and tongues would wag. We'd fill the Shire with speculation and fear, and no good to anyone, even though the full story never got out. Keep it here, I say, and we will see justice done.'

'Very well,' Merry said. 'If Pippin and Everard are content with this--' He looked from one to the other, and they nodded.

'Restitution, then,' said Regi. 'I can see where such a penalty would discourage false accusations, even if hobbits were inclined to malice.'

'It is not well-known, but there is precedent, and those who study to hear cases know about it,' Merry confirmed.

Pippin nodded. 'It looks as if you two are going to be quite rich.' He eyed Ferdi and Tolly. 'What will you do with your gold? Retire somewhere, start over, make a new life? I can't say I'd blame you.'

'Who said we'd take your gold?' Ferdi asked, sounding almost angry. 'We don't need it.'

'Well, I could use just a bit,' Tolly said diffidently. 'Not half the Thain's hoard, nor even half of Ev'ard's. And I have been paying off my debts already, a little at a time.'

'Then at the very least, your debts shall be cleared,' Merry said, staring Tolly to silence.

'Where do you plan to go, Ferdi, so that I may tell Nell? She'll join you, of course,' Pippin said.

'I'm not going anywhere!' Ferdi said then reconsidered his words. 'Well I am going back to the Smials, I mean; I'm not staying here in Woody End.'

Pippin was staggered. 'I don't understand. You'd go back to the Smials - you mean, as if nothing's happened? You'll take up where you left off?'

Ferdi quit rubbing his head and sat up a little straighter. 'Of course,' he said. He sipped his tea, inhaling the steam. The fragrance was reviving his strength, and his headache eased a little.

'I don't understand,' Pippin repeated, unable to credit what he was hearing.

'What is there to understand?' Ferdi was trying not to sound irritated. This was his Thain he was addressing, though at the moment he sounded more like the child Pippin with his maddening strings of questions.

'You mean to continue serving under me, when I so nearly... when I...'

'Pip, you're young, yet,' Ferdi said. 'You've been a farmer's son, and then for a short while you were the Thain's son, and now you're Thain. I don't expect you to understand this, for it involves swearing an oath, and I don't know that you've ever had to do such a thing...'

'He swore an oath as Thain, to serve and uphold the good of the People,' Reginard reminded him.

'Ah, that's right,' Ferdi said. 'But I don't know how seriously he would take that,' he answered Reginard, and turned back to Pippin. 'An oath is not mere words, cousin, spoken for reasons of ceremony and tradition.'

Pippin stared at him without speaking. He had knelt at Denethor's feet and laid his sword across the Steward's knees, swearing fealty, on a dark day in the White City, when the world had seemed about to end. His first oath, that had been, and he had kept it, he thought. He had sworn again, here in the Shire, to serve his people. Ferdibrand might not think so, but he was keeping this oath as well, as best he could.

'I swore to defend the Thain and his family,' Ferdi went on, 'in the time of Thain Paladin, that was, and I am bound by that oath. None may release me from it but the Thain, or death.' He paused, looking inward a moment, then added, 'Of course, I do not know if you understand how serious and binding a thing that is.'

Pippin had lost all colour and seemed scarcely to breathe. ''I know how binding it is,' he said in a choked voice. 'My oath as Thain governs my every word and action; my very thoughts turn on the oath I swore to the People.'

'Good,' Ferdi said. 'That is how it ought to be.'

Pippin rose abruptly. He stepped over to stand behind Ferdi and Tolly where they sat at the table, and suddenly he went down on his knees.

They turned in consternation to gape at him kneeling on the bare floorboards, his head bowed. The other Tooks rose from their seats, staring in shock at the sight of the Thain... kneeling before those sworn to serve him.

'Pippin?' Ferdi said, his breath failing him.

Pippin looked up into their faces. 'I would swear my own oath of loyalty, to you who have served me so faithfully. I confess I have taken your loyalty for granted, and I have used you very badly.' He took several shallow breaths and said, 'I swear now, before these witnesses, to be as loyal to you, as you have proven yourselves to me.'

There was a slight noise from the bedroom doorway, and Pippin looked over to see Faramir standing there, seemingly frozen by the sight of his father on his knees to his escort. Pippin's eyes met the eyes of his son, and he added in his heart, You, too, Farry. I have not been the father I should have been, but I will be. I swear I will be.

Then Rosemary was bending over the lad, touching his forehead, looking into his eyes. 'Farry, what are you doing out of bed? Did we waken you with our talking?'

'No, I just couldn't sleep any more. Please, may I get up now?'

'Of course, dear. Go on in with the other children; tell them they can stop studying now, it's playtime. You stay inside, mind!' She went into the bedroom to make up the bed again, and Farry turned to go in with the other children. But at the door he looked back over his shoulder, wide-eyed, to see his father getting up from his knees, shaking hands with Ferdi and the others.

Chapter 23. Restitution

Merry and Reginard found it difficult to work out a plan for restitution.  They ran into a roadblock they had not expected: Ferdibrand himself, his pride, and his lifelong habit of working for everything he had, refusing even the hint of charity.

'I will take no gold I have not earned by honest work. I have your oath, Pippin -- that is better than gold to me,' Ferdi said stubbornly.

'And from Ev'ard?' Regi asked. 'Will you see my brother banished, because you will not take his gold?' That put a different face on the matter, and Ferdi stared at him in dismay. Regi and Ev'ard were the best hobbits in the Tookland, he thought. He could not bear to see the one grieved and the other lost forever.

'Restitution or the brand, Ferdi. It must be one or the other,' Merry said. 'You know that as well as any of us.'

'Why?' Ferdi whispered. He wanted to shout the question in his frustration, but so tight was the grip he held on himself, that his voice was barely audible. He needed no answer -- he saw it in the face of every hobbit in the room, bred in their bones and his own as well. Tradition. It was the underpinning that held the Shire together.

Merry's gaze was sympathetic but unyielding. Everard's fate hung on two points: Ferdi's pride, and the engineer's stubbornness.

Everard sat without speaking, his eyes unseeing. They were used to this from him; it happened often enough when he was caught up with some thorny engineering problem: an unstable hillside, or a well that came up dry when it should have hit water. Ferdi pulled his chair around to sit beside him.

'Ev'ard?' he said. There was no answer and he gave the engineer a nudge. 'Ev'ard!' he repeated a little louder. There was still no response, and he resisted the urge to grab Everard by the shoulders and shake him until he paid attention. He settled for a sharp poke in the ribs.

The engineer blinked. 'Eh? What? O Ferdi, it's you.'

'Yes, it's me. Who were you expecting, then?'

'Just waiting for someone to tell me it was time,' Everard said bleakly.

'Time for what?' Ferdi asked, puzzled.

Everard stared. 'Have you lost your wits after all, Ferdi?' He was almost shouting, and he lowered his voice with an effort. 'You know what is to happen.'

'I know what might happen, unless we find an alternative, but that's what we're talking about, Ev'ard - an alternative. Restitution.'

'Alternative, hah,' Everard gritted. 'It will be the brand, and no more than I deserve, but I wish you would all hurry up and get it over with.'

'Ev'ard, I don't believe you!' Ferdi said in amazement. 'Will you not be content with this miserable situation until someone gets banished?'

'Not someone... me,' Everard said. 'I'm the one.'

'You're the one, are you? You took the son of the Thain without telling anyone what you were doing,' Ferdi said, affecting astonishment.

'No!' Everard said. 'You did that. I'm the one who took two plus two and came up with twenty-seven.'

'Well, perhaps you need to brush up on your calculating,' Ferdi said, trying for a light tone, but it was the wrong thing to say.

'Go on, Ferdi! How can you even look me at me after what I did?' Everard was shouting again. His nerves were frayed and his temper, usually kept tightly reined, was spinning out of control.

'Ev'ard, calm down,' Ferdi said soothingly. 'Maybe binding isn't such a bad idea after all.'

Everard held out his hands. 'Go ahead. Let's get it over.'

Ferdi sighed, shaking his head, and Tolly came over to lean against the table next to them. 'You can forget about being banished, Ev'ard,' he said pleasantly. 'We can't afford to lose a good engineer, what with the forward-looking, energetic young Thain we've got. I may wall you up in one of your own tunnels, though, if you don't stop this foolishness.'

Everard didn't answer, and Ferdi touched him tentatively on the arm. 'I made a bad mistake, Ev'ard, and we're still trying to untangle the knots. Please help us to do this.'

Everard looked straight ahead, and his voice was flat. 'I took facts, plain facts, and spun a fantastic piece of cloth that was nothing like the truth. It was my doing that led the Thain and the Master so far astray...'

'Well, Regi helped, with his talk of ruffians,' Ferdi said reasonably.

'That danger is real enough,' Tolly objected.

'Real, but we don't need to lose our heads over it. Keep our eyes open and take precautions, that's plain hobbit sense,' Ferdi said.

'I'm so sorry, Ferdi,' said Everard. Clearly he had not heard a word. 'I'm so terribly sorry, and I can never make it up to you.'

'And will your banishment make it any better?' Ferdi demanded. 'Wake up, Ev'ard! You were a fool, but so was I. So we're two fools together, and the brand won't make us any wiser, either one of us. You stick to engineering after this, where you know what you're doing, and I won't try to out-manoeuvre the Thain.'

'Hear, hear!' said a voice from across the table. Pippin stood there, looking much better than he had earlier. 'Best shove over by the window, lads; Rosemary is trying to put luncheon on the table. And Ferdi, if you don't want Ev'ard's gold, you'll have to think of something else he can give you, to pay his debt. No,' he added, raising his hand, 'I know you don't want anything. But it is required, if he is not to be banished, and don't you see that he will have no peace until he has made some restitution?'

They moved to stand by the window. 'There is something you can do for me, Ev'ard,' Tolly said unexpectedly. 'My oldest boy will never make an archer, hasn't the eye for it, but he's mad to learn engineering. Wants me to send him to the dwarves, but that takes more gold than I'm ever likely to see. You could teach him, though, if you'd take him on. You're a fine engineer; I've heard the Thain go on about it.'

Everard nodded slowly. 'All right, Tolly. I'll do that, and gladly, if the Thain will allow it.'

'The Thain will certainly allow it.' Pippin had followed them over to the window, and now Merry came to join them. 'Send him to Ev'ard as soon as we get home, Tolly. And bring me an accounting of what you owe; that is my part, to see you free of debt.' He thought for a moment and added, 'and if Ev'ard thinks the lad shows enough promise to go to the dwarves to study, I'll foot that bill as well.'

'Thank you, sir.' Tolly sounded relieved, but then he grinned. 'It's a pity I didn't have the sense to stay out of debt, for then I could ask for something better than gold - your promise to stop trying to slip away from your escort!'

There was a general laugh. 'I believe he'd rather give you the gold,' Merry said when he could speak.

'Indeed. I would make you no such promise, Tolly, for I'm certain I could not keep it.' Pippin's tone was light, but it was clear he meant what he said.

'That was a good thought of Tolly's,' Merry went on. 'You don't have anyone in your family who wants to learn engineering, do you, Ferdi?'

Ferdi gave a snort of laughter. 'Not a one - they're all too fond of the open air.'

'And Rudivar will be the head of his own family; he'll be The Bolger when he comes of age. Should give him both fortune and responsibility enough for any reasonable hobbit,' Pippin put in.

Merry nodded. 'What of the others? Or are any of them old enough to be thinking of the future?'

'Odovar is the next oldest, and he's still young. He's a natural for the stables, though; I would I had my father's string of ponies, if only for Odo's sake. He's got the bloodlines of half the Shire in his head, figuring the best breedings -' Ferdi jerked himself back to the present. 'Now don't run away with that thought, Pippin! My family is well enough, and we need no charity.'

'No one is talking of charity, Ferdibrand Took! Everard must pay his debt to you, one way or another; or will you see him ridden out of the Shire, to save your pride?' Merry had drawn himself up to his full height, terrible in his earnestness, and Ferdi dropped his eyes. 'You need nothing, you say, and none of your children would wish to be Ev'ard's apprentice. But he has gold enough to put a few good ponies in your stable, and so make restitution. For his place in the Shire, and for Odovar's future, will you not let him do it?'

Ferdi turned to Everard. 'Will that make your peace with me, Ev'ard? Will you take my forgiveness then, and call us even?'

Everard smiled a little. 'Not even, no, but I'll be able to look you in the face. Yes, it will make our peace, if you'll let me do that, Ferdi.'

'All right, then. We'll take Odovar to the Autumn Pony Meet, and let him choose, and you will tell him what his limits are, mind! You are not to beggar yourself, making amends; there's no need.'

'So it is settled,' Pippin said, sounding relieved. 'My oath to Ferdi, and Tolly's debts paid; Tolly's son to be trained as engineer, and some good ponies for Ferdi's stable; we have our restitution. Is it enough, Merry?'

Merry looked to Reginard, who nodded. 'It is justice,' he said. 'Also it looks well to the future: another engineer, a start for a stable of fine ponies, a new trust between the Thain and his followers. We have turned this situation from evil to good, I think.'

'And yet there is more to be done, to make this right, ' Pippin said soberly. 'When we get home, the Smials will be a hotbed of speculation and talk. Tolly was taken away bound and under guard - reputations have been destroyed by far less. It will not restore his honour to pay his debts and leave his good name blackened.'

'We'll just tell everyone there was a plot to steal the Thain's gold,' Ferdi said easily.

'And I was supposed the chief plotter?' Tolly said in astonishment.

'Wouldn't work,' Haldegrim said. 'Nobody'd believe it.'

'I'm glad you think so,' Tolly said, somewhat mollified.

'The Thain has enough trouble giving away his gold, as fast as he accumulates it,' Haldegrim added, and Tolly snorted.

'We'll tell them Tolly was suspected of switching the labels on the spice jars in the kitchen, but it turned out to be Faramir instead,' Hilly said with a grin. 'They'll believe that.'

'Between us all, we'll come up with some story to cover the facts,' Merry said. 'You'll never stop the Tooks from talking, Pip, you know that.'

It was times like this that Pippin most regretted his lost health - what he wouldn't give, at this moment, for a comforting pipe to busy his hands and soothe his frazzled nerves! He walked back to the half-cleared table where one of the teapots still stood, picked it up and upended it over his mug, but only a few drops came out. Ferdi, watching from the window, came then, and without a word took mug and pot from him and went to brew more tea, and Pippin walked back to the window, jamming his hands firmly into his pockets.

'We cannot stop them from talking,' he said, 'you have the right of that. Any story we tell will be suspect; they will dig under and around it, trying to sniff out the truth. So let us give them the truth, first to last, and let them make what they can of it.'

There was silence, then a gabble of consternation. 'Tell them Farry ran off?' 'Tell them Tolly and Ferdi were stopping the Post -' 'And the false accusations - will they ever trust the Thain's justice again?'

'Do you want the Shire to know what wicked men are capable of, cousin, kidnapping children for ransom? For that is what we suspected them of, you know.' Merry's voice was grave.

'I said tell them the truth, not our wild surmises. That Farry ran, yes, and Ferdi followed him. That they stopped the Post, to spare Diamond from worry, and that the deceit was discovered when I sent for Faramir. That we judged in haste and wrongly, and Farry woke in time and cleared them.'

'And that you and Everard made restitution?'

Pippin's voice was firm. 'Yes, and that I took oath to be loyal to those who serve me, as they are loyal to me.' Haldegrim, Hildibold, and Isenard nodded at this; the Thain looked searchingly into each face, and they all met his gaze squarely. Very well, they would not ask to be released from their oaths. It was not trust, not yet, but a chance to earn it from them. 'Tell the truth,' he repeated.

Merry shook his head. 'They may turn you out, cousin. I can find work for you in Buckland, should it come to that.' A smile twitched the corner of his mouth, but Pippin laughed outright.

'Aye, I'll hold you to that, mind! If they turn me out, Regi can have the job, and good fortune to him.'

'They'll not turn you out,' Reginard said. 'Not while I have breath to shout against it. I think you have the right of it, Pippin. The only weapon we have against gossip and slander is truth.'

Merry nodded. Ferdi brought Pippin a mug of tea, strong and scalding hot the way he liked it, and someone picked up the overturned Kings board and pieces, putting them away. Rosemary and her girls cleared away the rest of the tea things and started setting dishes on the table. Pippin wandered to the door of the room where the children were playing. Farry looked up and caught his eye, then coloured and looked away.

'Farry. Come here a moment, lad,' Pippin said. He might as well have this out now; the longer he postponed it, the worse it would be. Farry picked his way around the play farmyard and wooden animals and came to stand before him.

'Let's go in the other room for a moment, shall we?' Pippin held out his hand, and Farry took it, hesitating. They went into the other bedroom and closed the door.

'I owe you an apology, Faramir.' Pippin fumbled for the right words. 'It was wrong, and very dangerous, for you to run away, but if I had been the father I should have been, you would not have been driven to it. I am sorry, Farry.'

He had his hands on Farry's shoulders as he spoke, and he could feel the tension in the child's body.

Ferry looked up to meet his gaze, eyes wide and full of questions. 'Why did you blame Ferdi, Da? You would've banished him - branded him - if I hadn't woken up in time! And all he did was try to help me, and he wanted me to go to you, only I didn't want to...

'I was wrong,' Pippin said. 'I admitted to everyone here that I was wrong, Farry. I was angry and afraid, and so I was not fair to Ferdi, or to Tolly. I have promised them to do better in future, and they have forgiven me.' He swallowed. This was hard; it was so hard. 'I would ask your forgiveness as well.'

'Is that why you were kneeling? Because you were promising them?'

Pippin nodded, and then realized Farry looking towards the door, as if seeing his father swear the oath all over again. 'Yes,' he said. He placed a gentle finger under the lad's chin, tipping the small face up to look into his again. 'Yes, Farry, that is exactly right. And you know that I keep my promises. Never once have I broken a promise made to you.'

There was silence, then Faramir threw his arms around his father, squeezing so hard that Pippin struggled to breathe. 'I forgive you, Da.' Pippin dropped to one knee to gather his lad in his arms, leaning his head against the tousled hair.

'I love you, son. You cannot guess how much I love you.'

'Then will you promise me?' Farry said against his father's shoulder. Just then there was a tap on the door.

'Enter!' Pippin said, privately cursing the interruption. The door opened; Ferdi stood in the doorway with a question for the Thain.

'A moment, Ferdibrand,' said the Thain. 'Promise you what, lad? Promise you time? I'll give you as much time as I have, Farry. No more work after teatime, that will be the start of it.'

Farry pushed back against his father's hold, to look him square in the face. 'Promise me,' he said desperately. 'Promise!'

'What, Farry?' Pippin said patiently.

'Don't ever leave, Da,' Farry said. 'Don't go.'

Ferdi inhaled sharply as he caught the lad's meaning, and Pippin looked to him for explanation.

'He is asking you not to die, Pip.'

The Thain's eyes blazed with wrath at his speaking so openly before the boy, but Ferdi looked back steadily. 'Do you think he does not know, cousin? We all know; you know it yourself. You do him no favours when you will not acknowledge it. You leave him to face his fear and grief alone.'

Pippin looked into his son's face, and Farry nodded as a tear slipped down his cheek. "Ah, Farry," he breathed, pulling his lad to him with all his strength. "My son, my heart, I don't want to leave you! I'll stay as long as I can fight, every day I can, and I'll fight with everything I've got. That is all I can promise, Farry. I will not lie to you.'

'You always keep your promises, Da,' Farry sobbed.

'I do, Farry.' Pippin leaned his cheek against the little tear-wet face, his own eyes brimming over. 'I do, and that is why I cannot promise. But I promise I will stay as long as I can, and I won't neglect you again. While I live, we will take time to love each other.' They clung together, and the open acknowledgment of death somehow made life that much more precious, and love more sweet.

Chapter 24. Truth, and Trust

'Will you go back with me to Buckland, Pip?'

It was the end, the very end, of the longest day Pippin could remember. Farry was asleep on the little truckle bed in Hally and Rosemary's room, and Pippin and Merry sat before the fire, having a nightcap before they themselves turned in. He had been reluctant to take the master bedroom, now Farry was out of danger, but Rosemary was a Took when all was said and done, and she knew what was due the Thain of the Shire, whether the Thain wanted it or not.

He was groggy with weariness and reaction from all the emotion of the day. 'No,' he said, after a pause. He'd had business in Buckland, but at the moment he couldn't remember what it had been. Farry's disappearance and everything that had followed had driven it from his mind, and he shrugged it away as something of no consequence. 'You finish it up, whatever it was,' he told Merry. 'Can you do that for me, cousin? I need to be getting home.'

'Of course. Leave it to me; I'll see everything's buttoned up neatly, and fair to Buckland and Tookland alike. You can trust me for that.'

'I know I can.' Pippin smiled at him, leaning his head against the high back of his chair. 'It all ended better than we'd any reason to hope, didn't it? And I needn't start out on a long ride to Gondor, and end by trying to explain to Aragorn why I've a brand on my cheek.'

Merry didn't laugh. 'You wouldn't have gone alone, Peregrin. They'd have been looking for a new Master of Buckland, as well as swearing in a new Thain.' He stretched out his hand, and Pippin took it wordlessly in a grip that pressed Merry's signet ring painfully into his flesh.

'Time for sleep,’ Merry said at last. 'You Tooks can laze about at Woody End as long as you like, but I want to make an early start back to Buckland.'

He had been planning to ride home alone the next morning, but Pippin would have none of it. 'For all this was a false alarm, there might still be ruffians about, Merry. Take Regi and Isenard with you at the very least.'

Merry grinned. 'An escort, in fact, just like the Thain.' Pippin reddened, embarrassed, but shook his head.

'The Thain rides with an escort when he goes a mile down the road to inspect a new digging; there's no sense to it, only tradition! You've got half a day's journey ahead of you, and there are some lonely stretches. I'll not see you go alone, Merry, even if I have to go back with you myself.'

Pippin was so evidently in earnest that Merry forbore to tease him further, agreeing to ride in company at least as far as the Ferry landing.

'They could ride all the way to the Hall, stay the night, and still be back before we leave Woody End,' Pippin said, his tone brooking no contradiction. 'I'd like for Farry to rest two or three days and recover his strength. We'll wait for Regi and Isenard to get back before we start for Tuckborough.'

That put a different light on things for Merry – two or three days of rest and good food for Pippin as well as his son. Pippin was skilled at hiding his debility from worried relatives, but Merry could read exhaustion in his cousin's eyes. 'Very well,' he said with a show of reluctance. 'They shall accompany me to the Hall, and they'd better stay over and ride back the next day.'

Merry did not get the early start he'd planned on, however. Rosemary was up betimes frying sausages, which her girls quickly wrapped in golden griddlecakes and whisked to the table, piping hot. Honey-baked apples steamed under a pewter cover in the middle of the table, and sunny fried eggs followed the sausage griddlecakes in quick succession. It would be churlish to refuse the meal, and Merry swallowed his irritation and sat down to eat a hot breakfast at the table instead of a wedge of cheese and an apple out of his saddlebag. In any event, he reflected, the weather was mild. They'd be able to use the Ferry instead of riding the long way round to the Bridge, and he'd still be home soon after midday.

Pippin fixed him with a stern eye. 'You ought to set yourself the same standard you'd set for me,' he said. 'Were I riding back to Buckland with you, you'd stop at every inn for a hot meal by the fire.'

'What's good for the Thain is good for the Master!' Ferdi quipped, and laughed at Merry's sour face. 'We're none of us getting any younger, cousin. What need to rush back to the wilds of Buckland? Have one more civilised meal, at least.'

'This, from one who has been known to sleep in the hollow of a log or the fork of a tree,' Merry remarked dryly. Rosemary set a ramekin of potatoes scalloped with green onions and thick cream in front of him, and his expression changed with the first bite. 'Hmmm,' he sighed. 'I wonder if I could watch over Buckland from the Marish. So much more convenient to pop in for dinner.'

'And very welcome you would be,' Rosemary twinkled at him. 'I am glad to see my efforts will not go to waste!'

'More likely to go to waist,' Merry muttered, patting his waistcoat. He eyed the Thain, fiddling with his fork on the other side of the table. 'Eat up, Pippin!'

'I'm on my seconds already,' Pippin protested, grimacing at his well-filled plate. Off his feed again, Merry realised with a stab of alarm.

'No you're not!' Rosemary, Ferdi and Robin said with one voice, and Merry laughed.

'I'm glad you're going back with him, Ferdi. You're to let Diamond know if he starts fibbing about how much he's eating, mind!'

'Save us!' Pippin said, rolling his eyes. 'I'm eating!' Grimly he attacked the fine fare, and Merry relaxed to see him clear his plate and accept seconds in truth this time. Finally Pippin pushed his plate back with a sigh. 'Sure you wouldn't rather to go work for Merry, Ferdi?' he said.

'Hah! And miss the chance to badger you six times a day?' Ferdi said. 'I live for mealtimes!' He rubbed his hands together, staring balefully at Pippin under his brows, but then he caught Farry's anxious glance and winked. The lad smiled and relaxed.

'In all honesty, I would rest easier, hearing a dispute, if I had a truth-sifter at hand,' Merry said slowly. He looked at Robin. 'Are you free to come and work for me?'

'Not for a few years, yet,' Hally said. 'He's only a tween.'

'Ah, I'd hoped he just looked young for his age,' Merry said. 'I'm serious, though; I believe we need a truth-sifter in Buckland. I don't suppose you'd care to spare your wife?'

'No, I might starve to death,' Hally said. 'She's the best cook in the Shire, you know.'

'How about if your family moved to Buckland until Robin grew up?' Merry persisted.

'You jest,' Hally said flatly. 'But we might manage an occasional visit, if you'd like Rosemary or Robin to sit in on your hearings.'

'Can I bring the hearings to you, if they cannot wait for your visits?' Merry asked.

Pippin was grinning, shaking his head. 'I don't believe my ears,' he said.

'If they cannot wait,' Hally said, after a moment's consideration. 'It would be good to assure the hobbits of the Marish a fair hearing.'

'And the hobbits of Buckland as well,' Merry said. 'I will pay proper compensation for Rosemary's time, and Robin's.'

'My wife and son might earn more than I do,' Hally said thoughtfully. 'Perhaps I can retire and go fishing.'

'Not on your life,' Rosemary said. 'Your fingers would fall off, they would, were you to stop your carving. I know you too well.'

'Indeed you do,' Hally said, but he didn't sound at all bothered.

Breakfast ended at last, and Merry set off with Reginard and Isenard.  The rest of the Tooks stayed four days longer at the cottage, until Faramir was running about with the other children at playtime, and pitching in with his share of the chores, as from force of habit. Pippin watched, bemused, as Farry carried wood and water, cheerfully, without complaint. He even went out to the cow byre one evening, at Farry's insistence, to admire his son's skill at milking.

"I told him he needn't do any chores, now we know who he is,' Hally told the Thain in some chagrin. 'But he said he likes it, and he seemed so downcast, being told to stop, I didn't have the heart --'

Pippin chuckled. 'It's a harmless amusement, isn't it? Let him work, Hally; far better for him than some of the diversions he's found for himself, the last few years.' He was thoughtful after that, however. He had done chores as a lad himself, of course; his father had not become Thain till Pippin was nearly grown. He hadn't always enjoyed his work, and Paladin had been an exacting taskmaster, but looking back on it, he thought it had done him good. Faramir would be the better for it if he had chores to do, but as the son of the Thain, that was out of the question. Until he was of an age to start helping his father in administering the Tookland, there was no task that would not be considered beneath his station. Condemned to idleness, Pippin thought, and sighed.

Regi and Isenard returned from Buckland, but Rosemary decreed one more night of warmth and rest for Faramir before he should brave the elements. It made for interesting sleeping arrangements. The Thain and his son remained in Hally and Rosemary's bedroom, Hally slept with the boys, Rosemary with the girls; Reginard had the extra bed in the kitchen corner, Ferdi curled himself before the hearth and the rest of the Tooks shared the hayloft. Ferdi felt sorry for the cows, having to put up with Isenard's snores.

Their last night in Woody End, Ferdi wakened in the night, not sure what had disturbed his sleep. He listened to the crackle of the dying fire, the soft susurrus from the corner where Reginard slept, a child's sleepy murmur from the next room. He sat up and looked around the room, dimly lit by the watchlamp in the window. There was a figure sitting hunched at the table, and after a moment he realized it was his sister, a shawl thrown over her head and shoulders, her head on her arms.

He rose silently and stole to her side on hunter's feet. Another barely audible sob – that was what had wakened him – followed by a sniff. He laid his hand lightly on Rosemary's shoulder, not wanting to startle her, but she looked up sharply. 'What?' she whispered, scrubbing at her face with her hands. 'O Ferdi, did you need somewhat?'

He sat down with his arm around her. 'I need to know why my sister is weeping in the watches of the night.'

'It's naught,' she said, wiping away the last of the tears.

'Naught? My oh-so-sensible sister weeping over naught?  I don't believe it, dear one.'

This brought another flood of silent tears, and she struggled vainly to wipe them away as quickly as they came. 'What is it?' he pressed her gently. 'Has the Thain changed his mind, then?'

'Ferdi! Bite your tongue!'

He smiled wryly. 'It has been known to happen.'

'What do you mean?' In her shock, she spoke louder than she intended, and Reginard turned restlessly on his bed. They waited, scarcely breathing, until he settled into deeper slumber.

'As long I've known him, Pip's been as changeable as the weather,' Ferdibrand said in a lower voice.

'You do not trust him even now,' Rosemary said slowly. 'Not even after he bound himself by solemn oath?'

'I do not know how to trust him,' Ferdi said, his voice sad.

'If you think on it, Ferdi, this whole trouble began with your lack of trust,' Rosemary said. 'Have you ever given him a chance, since he came back to the Tookland, since he became Thain?'

'I don't know what you mean.' Ferdi was puzzled. 'Very well, this whole thing was my fault; I handled it badly indeed, but what does it have to do with trust?'

'You didn't trust the Thain to do right by his son. That's the truth of it.'

Ferdibrand sat stunned. 'I--' he said, then shook his head. 'No--'

'You cannot lie to me,' Rosemary whispered fiercely. 'You thought you knew better! Perhaps you even thought that you loved Farry better than his own father did.'

Ferdi shook his head again, but he knew his voice would betray him should he speak.

'And did he?' she continued implacably.

'Did he what?'

'Did he do right by Faramir? Didn't he do exactly what he should? He made restitution, he humbled himself before you all, he admitted his wrong, he apologised. And he apologised to Farry as well, and made him the best promise he could under the circumstances.'

Ferdi was silent, and she went on. 'Pip, changeable? Did you not hear his son's testimony? He never makes a promise he doesn't keep – so says Faramir, who ought to know.'

'He has changed, then,' Ferdi said wryly, and Rosemary took a deep breath, ready to launch more words in her perturbation. He kneaded her shoulder with his hand. 'Rosie,' he said, 'very well, I concede the point. This whole situation has been my fault from the beginning.'

She relaxed. 'Well, perhaps not from the beginning,' she admitted. 'Our illustrious cousin has made mistakes, and his son was the one who ran away; you did not drive him from his home, nor entice him to leave.'

'Very well, it has been my fault since the middle,' Ferdi said, a gleam in his eye daring her to contradict him.

'Be serious!' Rosemary hissed.

'I am always serious,' Ferdi returned, and she snorted softly. 'Why were you crying, then?'

She was taken aback, and he realised she had been distracting him from that topic with her talk about Pippin and Farry.

'What is it, Rosie?'

'Naught,' she said again, but he would not let it go.

'It is not naught,' he countered. 'Who suffers from lack of trust now? Rosie, we've been everything to each other, always. Do not shut me out now!' He laid his hand atop hers where it lay on the table, twining his fingers through hers. They'd had no one else, after the tragedy of their early years, until at last they'd found their mates and begun families of their own. But they had always had each other.

She gulped and bowed her head on her arms again. There were tears falling upon his hand, and he rubbed her back gently with the other hand.

'What is it, Rosie? Do not say "naught"; I know truth when I hear it, you know.'

She raised her head, but she would not look at him. 'We've always trusted one another, Ferdi.  There was no one else we could trust, after Mother died.' Ferdi nodded, his hand making comforting circles on her back, his fingers still interlaced with hers on the table.

'I – I betrayed you, Ferdi,' she said brokenly. 'I thought-'

'You thought me mad,' Ferdi said matter-of-factly. 'So did Hally.'

'Oh – Hally!' she said dismissively. 'But how could I think such a thing? Ferdi, I'm so sorry!'

'You watched our mother descend into madness,' Ferdi said.

'I thought I was seeing it again. All over again, like a bad dream.' She shivered. 'Ferdi, do you remember –'

'I remember the stables burning and Uncle Ferdi running back in. And part of the roof falling in flames and Da going in after him...' He’d begun to tremble. 'I remember Mum holding me so tight her nails drew blood, and the screams, the awful screams...'

'That was the beginning,' Rosemary said. 'But do you remember her death?'

Ferdi thought back, but all he could see in his mind's eye was flames, all he could hear was screams – trapped ponies and hobbits, and at the last his mother's sobs. He shook his head. 'No. I don't remember that.'

'She took you,' Rosemary said softly. 'Don't you remember? She took you from the fire.'

'I only remember the flames,' he said, 'as if they danced before my eyes.'

'She took you to the Water that ran by the farm, and she threw you in,' Rosemary said. 'She was shrieking that she had to save you from the flames, so she threw you in the river. You nearly drowned!'

Ferdi shook his head. 'Why don't I remember?'

'Then she ran for me,' Rosemary continued, her voice shaking. 'She grabbed me by the arm and started dragging me to the Water, but I was older than you; I fought with everything I had.' She took a shuddering breath. 'The neighbours who had come to help fight the fire stopped her before she could throw me into the Water, but they couldn't stop her throwing herself in...'

'Why didn't I drown?' Ferdi asked. He'd never heard this story before, had only known his mother had died mad and no one ever spoke of her afterwards.

'A Brandybuck was passing by on the Road going to Bywater. He saw you thrashing around in the Water and he jumped in and pulled you out.' She smiled wanly. 'Brandybucks can swim, you know,' she said.

He grinned at her tone, in spite of himself. 'Yes,' he said.

'She wanted to save you, but she nearly drowned you,' Rosemary said,  'and you were trying to save Farry...'

'O Rose,' Ferdi said softly. It was not her lack of faith in him that grieved his heart, but the pain his actions had caused her. His sister, who had been everything to him, all the years of his growing-up. 'Forgive me, Rosie.'

'Forgive you!' she gasped.

'Aye,' he said softly. He wrapped his arms around her, and she buried her face against his shoulder and wept. He held her until she was finished crying, and if she felt his tears wetting her hair, where his head leaned against hers, she never told another soul.

Chapter 25. Reparations

In the morning the Tooklanders thanked Hally and Rosemary for their hospitality and set out for home. Regi trailed a little behind, catching up to them a mile down the road, having lingered to press a well-filled purse into Hally's hand. 'It's the Thain's orders, and not worth my skin to bring it back to him,' he told the reluctant woodcarver. 'Your wife saved his son's life, as like as not, and you had the nuisance of the crowd of us here all these days. Let Peregrin pay his debts like an honourable hobbit!'

He swung himself up on his pony, cantering after the others. When he reined in next to Pippin he nodded once, decisively, and Pippin smiled.

'He took it?'

'Aye, he took it. With a little persuasion, mind.'

Farry, riding next to his father, looked from one to the other. 'What?' he asked. 'Who took what?' Pippin opened his mouth to tell the lad this was a grown-up affair and none of his concern, but then he hesitated.

Ought he to be training Faramir to be Thain? He had not been, up until now. The lad had seemed too young and careless, and his own health too precarious, for it to be needful – if he died before Farry came of age, Reginard would be the next Thain, whether he wanted the title or not. But how if he did not die? Merry had the right of it, when he said no one knew how many sips were in the cup. I might drag on as I am for years on end, he thought, and die only just in time to drop the burden onto Farry's shoulders. I'd better begin preparing him.

'I had Reginard give Hally some gold coins for his trouble, putting us up all those days,' he answered the child. 'It was an expense for him to feed us all, you know, and Rosemary took care of you, too, as skilfully as any healer. It is right they should be paid.'

Faramir hadn't thought about that; childlike, he had taken it for granted that there would be food on the table at mealtime, and even that someone would care for him when he was sick. His thoughts went back to his night in the haystack, before Ferdi had caught up with him; his hunger, when he'd had to find his own food.

Not 'find' it, he thought. I didn't find it lying in the road. I took it. Stole it. It wasn't a pleasant reflection, and he was very quiet the rest of the day. I'm a thief. He remembered Uncle Merry's questioning, when he first woke up from his illness, and Robin's rebuke. A thief and a liar.

They stopped early and made camp; Pippin would have pushed on, to reach Tuckborough as soon as possible, but Regi persuaded him to stop for Farry's sake. 'The lad's less than a week out of sickbed. Don't wear him out,' he warned, but secretly his concern was for Pippin himself. The Thain was breathing well; riding out in the mild weather was good for him, but it didn't do to let him get overtired. They might have ridden on for another hour and stayed at the Cockerel, but the night promised to be mild, and camping out in the woods might excite less comment than the group of them staying at the most popular inn between Tuckborough and Stock.

Farry tended to his pony, then helped gather wood for the fire. The escort watched him covertly, exchanging glances of amusement: the Thain's lad was still enamoured of work, apparently. After they had eaten, they sat around the fire as night closed in. Hilly told a long, rambling story about a hobbit in the Marish who wagered his wife that he could do the housework better than she could, with disastrous results, and their laughter rang in the darkness, with Farry rolling on the ground in hilarity – it was an old tale, but it was new to him.

'What pictures can you see in the stars, Farry?' Pippin asked when the lad was quiet again. Farry looked up.

'There's the Hunter,' he said. 'And the Bear.'

'Can you see the Twins? No? Look – there, and there – you see?'

'Oh, yes! I can see them now. Which star is Earendil's, Da?' His father turned him and lifted his hand, till he was pointing into the heavens.

'That one, Farry. See it?' The child nodded, staring in wonder.

'And is it really a jewel, then? Is it the Silmaril, and is Earendil sailing it across the sky?'

'So they say, Farry.' He wrapped his arms around his lad, kissing the top of his head, breathing in the warm, earthy fragrance of a child who's been out all day in the open air. Faramir turned in his arms, clinging to him and burying his face in Pippin's shirt. A sob shook him, and then another.

'Farry, what's wrong?' There was no answer, only another sob. 'Farry, look at me! What is it, lad?' It's my wretched health, he thought in despair. How long has he lived in fear, and I did not know? And how can I help him, now that I do know? But Farry's answer, when it came, left him speechless, groping for a reply.

'I shamed you, Da! I'm a liar, and,' gulp, 'I'm a thief, as well!' He broke into a storm of crying, burrowing against Pippin and nearly knocking him backwards onto the ground. Pippin struggled to keep his balance without letting go of his son.

The other hobbits around the fire got up and moved away quietly into the darkness, spreading out their blankets and making ready for sleep. This was the Thain's business to deal with, and the less said the better. But Ferdi came to sit by Pippin and laid his hand on Farry's back, rubbing in slow circles. Pippin met his eyes, questioning, and Ferdi nodded.

'Farry. Shh, shh, lad, enough now. That's it, that's my lad. Don't cry, my heart; tell me about it. What did you steal?'

'E-g-g-s.' It came out in a shuddering gasp. 'And milk.' He looked up blearily into his father's face. 'I was hungry, Da; I was so hungry! I thought they'd give it to me, but I couldn't ask, or they'd make me go home. So I took it and I thought it would be all right, but it was stealing, I see that now.' He buried his face against his father's chest again, but managed to hold back his tears.

'And you lied, when Uncle Merry asked you if you had anything to eat,' Pippin guessed, and Farry nodded without looking up. Pippin glanced helplessly at Ferdi.

'You will have to pay reparations to the farmer,' Ferdi said, speaking to Faramir. 'By custom, twice what you stole.'

'But I don't have any money!' the lad whispered. Pippin started to speak, but Ferdi put a hand on his arm, shaking his head.

'It is up to you to make it right, Faramir,' he said. 'You will have to find a way to get the money, and not by asking your father for it, either.'

'I can't,' Farry wailed. 'How can I?'

Ferdi was implacable. 'Earn it by honest work,' he said, 'or sell something you own. This is your debt to pay.'

Farry lifted his face, considering. 'I don't own much worth selling,' he said slowly. 'My pony's not even mine, not really.' He thought a moment. 'But the saddle is mine, isn't it, Da? You gave it to me on your last birthday.'

'Yes, I did. The saddle is your own,' Pippin agreed.

'So I could sell that, though I don't know what I'd do for riding then.'

'Learn to ride without a saddle,' Ferdi said. 'Not as comfortable, but not impossible.'

Faramir absorbed this idea, his face thoughtful in the firelight.

'And if you want another saddle...' Ferdi continued, and Pippin looked at him sharply. How did Ferdi know that the Thain was trying to think of a plausible way to replace Faramir's about-to-be-lost saddle as soon as might be?

'You can work to earn the coin,' Ferdi said. 'Save your earnings until you have enough to buy another one.'

Farry sniffled. 'What work can I do? I learned to milk at Woody End, but the milkmaids do that at the Smials – I don't think they would let me help!' He hoped not, anyway. Milking was fun, when he went out to the byre with Robin and his brothers, squirting a stream into the mouth of the nearest cat, racing each other to fill their pails. It would be a different matter entirely, with the giggling milkmaids of the Great Smials.

'I was grooming stalls well before your age,' Ferdibrand said. 'Polishing tack, wheeling a barrow of pony droppings to the manure pile, sweeping, washing, lifting, hauling.' He grinned at Faramir. 'How do you suppose I grew strong enough to keep up with your da? Took me years of work, building up strength and endurance.'

And character, Pippin thought. 'And I wasted much time when I could have been doing the same,' he said aloud. 'I built strength and endurance the hard way, walking halfway across Middle-earth and back again.'

'I'll put in a word for you with old Tom,' Ferdi said, 'if the Thain has no objection. He may be able to find you something to do in the stables, so you can earn the coin for a new saddle.'

It will be the talk of the Tooks, Pippin thought wryly, but then he grinned. The Tooks were determined to talk about his family, it seemed, and Faramir especially. Better let them gossip about the lad's unusual taste for manual labour, than his penchant for mischief.

'The Thain has no objection,' he said. 'None at all.' 

Chapter 26. To Squelch a Rumour

Ferdi had gone off in a rush at dawn, kissing her even as he threw the cloak around his shoulders and settled his quiver on his back. She was used to it - an errand for the Thain, of course, and Pippin brooked no delay in carrying out his orders. Only later she had thought it odd, for Pippin had left the previous morning for Buckland, so what orders could he have left that had waited for a day and yet had called for this speedy departure at first light?

Something the escort had forgotten, she decided, and Regi must have discovered it only at day's end and sent Ferdi haring after them to bring it. But if she had seen Ferdi leaving Tuckborough on foot instead of ponyback, she would have been puzzled indeed, for certainly he would never catch up with Pippin that way.

Nell gave it little thought; she was busy enough with her household, and the day passed quietly. Truthfully, she gave less thought to Ferdi's errand than she did to her nagging anxiety over Diamond's pregnancy. Her own soon-to-be-born babe didn't worry her overmuch; her other confinements had been normal enough, thank heaven, even if Pali had been a bit late in his arrival.

And he'd been late for everything since, she thought in fond exasperation. Late in waking from his nap, at the moment, and if he slept much longer, she'd never get him to sleep tonight. She gave the soup in the little kettle over the fire a final stir and went to rouse him.

She was changing his wet pants and stripping the sheet from his mattress - the over-long nap had led to predictable, if regrettable, results - when the outer door banged open.

‘Mum? Where are you?’ Fredevar barrelled into the bedroom. ‘Mum, can I eat in the great room for eventide? Please? Gorbi's going to, and then we're going to play hide'n'seek 'til bedtime!'

Nell sighed. It was part of her struggle to have a real family life, here in the Smials - the younger children took the evening meal here in their own quarters, away from the crowd and the formal manners of the main dining hall. Without Ferdi, of course - the Thain's escort ate together at one table by inviolable custom, and it was all the more reason for these quiet early suppers en famille. After the little ones were abed, she'd join Ferdi for late supper in the great room, oftener than not.

‘Why is Gorbi eating in the great room?’ She was playing for time, but she really wanted to know. It was Gorbi's mother, her friend Meadowsweet, who had started the custom of family eventides; Meadowsweet had grown up in a small cot on the outskirts of Tuckborough, and she had adapted only partially, and on her own terms, to the formal atmosphere of the Great Smials.

‘I dunno - they're all eating in the great room, and Flambold has to take care of the little ones because Meadowsweet isn't going with them.’

‘What? That doesn't sound right. Is she ill?’ But Freddie didn't know the answer to that, and he was dancing in place, eager to be off to the great room, to join his friends.

‘Go by their quarters first and see if Meadowsweet needs anything - first, mind you! before you go to the great room! Find out if she's all right and come back and let me know; then you can eat in the great room tonight.’

But when he returned ten minutes later, it was with the amazing information that Tolly, too, was having the evening meal in his own quarters. Husband and wife would be dining together, and alone, in defiance of any Tookish protocol whatsoever. Meadowsweet, it would seem, had pulled rank on the head of escort.

Nell gathered her brood around the table and ladled out the soup, torn between admiration of Sweetie's nerve and disquiet at what it might portend. The soup was thick with chunks of meat and garden vegetables, in a richly-flavoured broth, and there was a loaf of herb-laced bread, as well, for dipping in the broth. The cooks had outdone themselves; Nell couldn't have done better had she made the soup herself. Many times she went down to the kitchens to do her own cooking, but not so often lately. It was a relief to have someone else doing the cooking these days, when her own burden was so heavy. Each afternoon a servant would bring a kettle of dinner fixings ready to go over the fire, filling the suite with savoury smells.

After dinner they stacked the dishes in the kettle – no scraps were left over, to scrape into the waste bucket for the pigs. Nell went to set the kettle outside their door, where a servant would come by later to carry it away, but, ‘No you don't!' Mignonette told her. ‘You let Rudi put it out when he gets home.’ She escorted her mother to the sofa and brought a hassock for her feet.

‘Now I'll make you a nice pot of tea, Mum, while you rest.’ She put the little teakettle on the fire and turned to scrub down the table. When she finished, Cori laid the cloth and little Perry solemnly placed the mug of dried flowers just so in the centre of the table. Nell smiled and sipped her tea, her heart warmed by the gentle attentions of her children.

"All right, gather round,’ she told them. ‘I'm thinking of something blue and green, hates to be seen. What is it?’

They crowded around her, eager to play the guessing game, and it kept them amused till bedtime.

She went to late supper in the great room with Mignonette – another servant came to sit in the family quarters so the sleeping little ones would not be left alone – and she saw her older boys there, eating with their age-mates. When she got back she sat down in the parlour and put her feet up, not yet sleepy enough to seek her pillow, though the babe weighed heavily upon her. She was still sitting there, mending Freddie's britches and wondering how he managed to tear out the knees so often, when the owner of the britches returned. His news this time was beyond amazing.

‘Mum! Faramir's run off, and Da's gone looking for him!' He stood in the doorway, wide-eyed and breathless, and for a moment she couldn't take it in.

‘Shut the door,’ she said at last. ‘Don't shout it in the corridors, Freddie, all the more so if it's true! Where did you hear that?’

‘It's true, Mum! Meadowsweet told me herself when I left off Gorbi at his door - she said to tell you, but nobody else, and I didn't!'

‘What else?’ she asked, putting down her mending. ‘Do they know where he was going?’ And why, she thought, but that wasn't such a difficult question. In mischief again, she'd wager, or playing for attention from older, wilder cousins. It wasn't the first time, and she wondered in sorrow if Farry had any idea what these shenanigans of his cost his father. Pippin was pushing himself to the edge as it was, carrying the welfare of all Tookland on his back as he did. Farry's scrapes only added to a burden that was already far too heavy.

She pulled herself back with an effort. ‘I'm sorry, Freddie, what did you say?’

‘Meadowsweet said she'll stop by once the little ones are asleep, so don't go to bed yet, Mum.’

‘All right. Off to bed with you then, and you too, Mignonette. You're sure you didn't tell anyone else, Freddie?’

‘Mum! I said I didn't!'

She smiled and pulled him into a hug, reached out her other arm for Mignonette. ‘I know you did. It's that important, though - make sure you keep the secret, both of you! Talk has long legs - especially in Great Smials. Let Da bring him back safe, and the Thain can deal with him when he returns.’

She kissed them and sent them off, and when Rudi and Odo came in a while later she asked casually if there was any news. ‘They're talking about new diggings over near Pincup in the spring. Flambold is keen to go, but Tolly won't let him,’ Odo said.

‘I suppose not,’ his mother said absently. ‘Flam hasn't got his full growth yet; they wouldn't let him dig.’ But she was glad they had no news to report of Faramir's absence; the gossip hadn't caught up with that yet, apparently.

It was late when Meadowsweet finally tapped on the door; Nell had nearly fallen asleep in her rocking chair, and the fire had burnt down to coals. Sweetie slipped in as if she feared to be seen, her rusty black shawl drawn over her head.

‘Freddie told you? Of course he did; don't mind me, I'm that flummoxed I'm not thinking straight at all. I wanted to get Tolly alone to talk about this debt business; his wretched wagering last summer, and now he's worrying himself thin over it, and it's got to stop or he'll make himself sick! I thought we could hash it out over a good meal, so I sent the childer off to the great room, and doesn't he go and drop this rock down the well, and all the frogs go a-jump! I guess it'll stop him brooding over our debts for the nonce, but it won't do much for his peace of mind!'

‘Come sit down, Sweetie, and I'll make a fresh pot of tea. Does Diamond know?’

‘Not yet, and with luck she'll never need to. Tolly told her the Thain'd changed his mind and taken Faramir along after all.’

Nell stopped scooping tea leaves into the warmed pot. ‘Sweetie! She'll find out that isn't true, with the first letter from Brandy Hall!'

‘Aye, true enough, and so I told Tolly. But they'd worked that out already, the pair of them: Ferdi will take the lad to Buckland and make it true, and until Tolly hears from him that it's done, there won't be any letters coming from Brandy Hall.’

‘There won't be - good heavens, Sweetie, Tolly's not planning to stop my brother's letters!' Nell got an odd breathless feeling at the thought. If Tolly were caught tampering with the Thain's post, and if he'd done it on Ferdi's orders...

Meadowsweet sprang up from her chair and paced distractedly around the room. ‘If Diamond finds out Farry's missing, what then? Would it bring on her pains, d'you think? The babe's hardly settled in yet, it's that early - a shock now could bring it all to nothing.’

Pimpernel was silent; it was only too true. She busied herself lifting the teakettle from the fire and pouring the boiling water upon the leaves, but the breathless feeling persisted. She concentrated on taking deep, regular breaths and felt the reassuring movement of the babe within.

‘She was a farmer's daughter, wasn't she, before they wed?’ Meadowsweet mused. ‘You'd think she'd carry her babes easy, but she didn't, not the last one, anyhow. The talk's starting already, Nell; two or three of the mothers asked me today, where Farry was keeping himself. You and me, we'll have to keep Diamond from hearing it, ‘til your Ferdi gets the lad safe to Buckland.’

Pimpernel set cream and sugar on the table and poured out the tea. ‘Diamond's been staying pretty much in her own rooms the last few weeks; ill as she's been.’

‘That's a good sign,’ Meadowsweet said. ‘I'd worry more were she not sick!'

‘It'll make it easier to keep the news from her,’ Pimpernel said, thinking further. ‘If she stays quiet, keeps her feet up... we can bring Woodruff in on the secret, and she'll help us...’

‘D'you think that's wise, Nell?’ Meadowsweet said dubiously. ‘When does a secret stop being a secret?’

‘When more'n one person knows it,’ Pimpernel said, ‘yes, I know that old saw. Well, two know it, you and I, four if you count Ferdi and Tolly, five if you count Farry...’

‘Let us hope it goes no farther,’ Meadowsweet whispered. She put a hand to her heart. ‘The children know,’ she said slowly.

‘Can't you trust them?’ Pimpernel said. She took a slow, careful breath as a cramp seized her belly. ‘Mine know as well, but they're Tooks - they wouldn't tell their own mother the time of day if they didn't think I needed to know!'

Meadowsweet had seen the look of concentration on Pimpernel's face; taking her friend's arm, she steered her to a chair. ‘Sit down,’ she said firmly. ‘It's too early for your babe.’

‘I know,’ Pimpernel said. She tried to breathe evenly as another cramp seized her. ‘Go get Woodruff, will you, Sweetie?’

Meadowsweet pulled a stool up and propped Pimpernel's feet upon it, then with a quick pat to the shoulder she was gone. Pimpernel put both hands on her abdomen and continued her measured breaths. ‘Ferdi,’ she whispered, a tear spilling down her cheek. ‘Ferdi, why are you out chasing a wayward lad, when I need you here?’ She wasn't being fair, she knew, but Ferdi had been off chasing Farry on another occasion when she'd needed him, and he'd missed the birth of their first son together. As a matter of fact, she'd nearly lost Ferdi that day; he'd all but drowned saving Farry and a cousin when their mischief got them into trouble that was literally over their heads.

Healer Woodruff was there in a few moments. The escort's families were quartered close around the Thain's own apartment, to be on hand at a moment's notice, and Sweetie hadn't far to go to find her.

‘What's all this?’ the healer said briskly. ‘Got yourself all stirred up about something, and woke the babe, I hear?’

‘It's too early,’ Pimpernel said, trying to push down her fear. She had yet to lose a babe, and had counted herself lucky until now.

‘Just a bit too early,’ Woodruff said. She helped Pimpernel to bed and conducted a rapid examination. Her smile was more genuine when she finished. ‘Just false pains, I think, but I want you to drink a potion to be safe.’ Pulling a corked bottle from her sack, she poured out into the mug that Meadowsweet handed her.

Pimpernel lifted it to her lips, but put it down again at the first taste. ‘It must be nearly all brandy!' she protested.

‘Nearly half,’ Woodruff said unruffled. ‘Drink it down now, there's a good girl.’

‘You told me yourself not to drink spirits!'

‘There's a time for everything,’ Woodruff replied. ‘Drink it down.’ Pimpernel complied, and Woodruff sat down on the bed and took her hand. ‘There,’ she said. ‘Nice and cosy. Whyn't you close your eyes and rest now?’ Her voice was soothing, and truth be told, Pimpernel was starting to feel drowsy; that potion carried quite a kick. Before long, her eyelids drooped and her breathing became regular without any concentration on her part.

‘Can you stay with her?’ Woodruff whispered, rising from the bed.

‘My eldest knows I'm here,’ Meadowsweet replied. ‘I can stay the night if need be.’

‘That might be a good idea,’ Woodruff said. ‘I'll be with Diamond if you need me.’

***

The next day as Pimpernel made her appearance in the Thain's quarters, Woodruff ushered her to the next-most-comfortable chair and placed a stool for her feet.

‘Don't we make a pair!' Diamond laughed.

‘Yes,’ Pimpernel said dryly. ‘All we need to do is start knitting booties and we'll be a perfect picture.’

‘I've never knitted booties in my life and I'm not about to start now!' Diamond was pale with her own discomfort, but determinedly cheerful. Nell had suffered a shock, unexpected cramping, Woodruff had told her, and needed cosseting. Diamond kept to happy topics, such as Yuletide preparations, though by mutual consent they kept food out of the conversation.

Meadowsweet came and went on errands. Diamond was in charge of the smooth running of the Great Smials and keenly aware of her responsibilities, even if she couldn't bear walking through the corridors, where the smell of food was invariably in the air. Sweetie kept her occupied with myriad details, bringing questions and fetching back written instructions and orders. It was not until evening that the first sign of trouble appeared.

‘Is the post not yet come?’ Diamond said.

‘Post?’ Meadowsweet asked innocently. She had looked in to see if the Mistress needed anything before she retired.

‘Yes, the pony post,’ Diamond said. ‘The Thain ought to have gotten to Brandy Hall last evening, and he always sends a message to tell of his safe arrival.’

‘Ah, the post!' Meadowsweet said with sudden comprehension. ‘I've been that busy, Mistress, I hadn't thought to see, and Tolly's been out all the day or he'd've brought it to you the minute it arrived... perhaps the Thain stayed over at the Crowing Cockerel an extra day.’

‘Ferdi did say something to that effect,’ Pimpernel temporised. ‘He wanted to speak to the innkeeper about the thinning of the woods about the inn...’

‘Cutting a firebreak, wasn't it?’ Meadowsweet said helpfully.

‘Ah yes,’ Diamond said slowly. ‘Well that must account for it. I doubt he'd've sent a message to say he was staying over at the Cockerel. Such a hardship, having to linger where they serve the best beer on the road to Stock.’

Difficulty averted, for the time being. Pimpernel hoped Ferdi had found Farry and was nearly to Buckland by now. There'd be trouble, and soon, if he weren't.

***

‘So Ferdi took young Faramir on to Buckland,’ Healer Mardibold said. It was his turn to dance attendance upon Diamond (and herself as well, Nell suspected, though he had not appeared to pay much attention to her).

‘Yes,’ Diamond said. ‘I suppose Pip thought he'd been punished enough for the latest mischief. The lad had been looking forward to the trip; he was terribly disappointed to be left behind.’

The lad could stand a bit more disappointment, to my way of thinking, Mardibold's raised eyebrow said.

Diamond read the look and laughed. ‘O I know, we spoil him shamelessly. But tell me... how do you avoid spoiling the son of the Thain?’

Mardi grunted. He was old enough to remember Thain Ferumbras; worse than useless he'd been. A mercy that he'd never married and fathered a son. Thain Paladin had brought fresh blood, fresh energy, fresh ideas to the Thainship, and his son, not raised in the Great Smials, had followed in his father's footsteps. Tookland was prospering, and the rest of the Shire was recovering from the ruffians, under the watchful stewardship of Thain Peregrin, Mayor Samwise, and the young Master of Buckland.

The Thain's son, however, was not prospering. Great Smials was a difficult place to raise any child, to say nothing of the pampered only son of the highest-ranking hobbit in the Shire. The lad was hedged about by protocol and etiquette, and surrounded by equally pampered cousins with too much time on their hands. None of them did a lick of honest work, of course; it wasn't appropriate to their social standing.

Small wonder they found mischief to fill the idle hours.

Pondering the sorry state of the Thain's son brought Mardi's mind back to his own quandary. He'd been invited to take up residence in the Smials, permanent assistant to Healer Woodruff. It was a grand opportunity, for he'd be head healer when she retired, but he hated to do it.

He himself might have been a candidate for the Thainship, but his grandfather had removed his branch of the family from the succession years before. Isembold had moved his household from the Great Smials entirely, buying a house in Tuckborough and taking up healing as his profession. Come to that, Thain Peregrin's great grandfather had done the same; Hildigrim had returned to the family farm, turning out a lackadaisical tenant and bringing prosperity out of the mismanaged fields. But Pippin's father Paladin had been called to the Thainship, returning to the Smials and bringing his family with him.

Great Smials was a hard place to escape. Mardi's younger brothers Tolly and Hilly had left their father's house to become members of the Thain's escort, but Mardi was reluctant to follow their example. He didn't want his youngest son running with the company he'd find in the Smials. The Thain's son had seemed a likely enough youngster when the family first came back from Buckland, but life in the Smials was in a fair way to ruin him.

It might be a mercy that Faramir seemed unlikely to follow Pippin as Thain, Mardi reflected, and then was pierced by grief at the thought. Pippin was the finest Thain the Tooks had produced in a century; more than that, Mardi was genuinely fond of him. But for all his wisdom in managing the Tookland, Pippin apparently had none when it came to managing his son, and no more did Diamond. And who would dare to remonstrate with them on how they raised Faramir?

He looked up to find Diamond watching him, and realized he hadn't answered her last question. ‘I wouldn't know, Mistress,’ he said. ‘I'm lucky enough not to be Thain, and what's more, I never will be.’

‘Lucky indeed!' Diamond said fervently. She wished sometimes that they'd remained at Brandy Hall, or at Long Cleeve. Anywhere but Tookland, in fact. Pippin poured so much of himself into his work that there was little left for wife or son. And yet she would not want him to do less than his best. She honoured and respected her Thain, but in her heart she missed her husband. Her beloved.

Mardi walked Pimpernel to her quarters in time for early supper. She found a servant already there, serving out helpings of chicken pie, rich and meaty in a velvety gravy, the crust a marvel of golden flakiness. ‘What?’ she said in surprise...

‘You've been overdoing,’ Mardi said. ‘Sit yourself down on the sofa, put up your feet, and let your daughters serve you. You lads will take care of the dishes, won't you?’

‘Of course,’ Rudi said, exchanging glances with his brothers. They'd be staying close to home the next few days, lightening their mother's load as much as they could, especially with Da gone after Faramir. Again.

Nell dismissed the servant once the little ones were abed. ‘We won't be needing you this evening, Rusty' she said. ‘I won't be going to late supper.’

‘D'you want me to bring you a tray, ma'am?’

‘No,’ Nell said. ‘Eventides were so lovely and filling, I don't think I'll need another bite until breakfast. Go ahead and take the rest of the evening off, and thank you.’

‘Thank you, ma'am,’ Rusty said with a dignified bow, and exited their quarters. Rudi shut the door firmly behind him and came to stand by the sofa.

‘What news?’ Nell said, keeping her voice low.

‘None, yet,’ Rudi replied. He had taken a message from his mother to Meadowsweet, to tell her Nell would miss late supper this evening, and had returned just as Rusty was leaving.

‘What?’ Nell said, startled. ‘Your father ought to have found Farry by now! He's sent no word at all?’

‘No,’ Rudi said, troubled. It was not like his step-father to be so secretive. Farry must have made mischief indeed

‘Did Meadowsweet say aught about Diamond? Surely she's wondering at the lack of post this evening?’

‘She said Tolly came in while she was with Diamond, said there’d been no word and he expected they’d stayed over one more day at the Cockerel before going on to Buckland,’ Rudi said. ‘There was some question as to where the firebreak would be placed, and how many trees must be cut, and who would pay for the cutting of it — the Thain, or the innkeeper, it being across the road as well as the innkeeper’s land.’

‘One could spin out such a discussion for days, or at least as long as the supply of beer held out,’ Pimpernel said dryly. Rudi grimaced and his mother reached out to take his hand. ‘Ferdi knows what he's about,’ she said. ‘He's protecting the reputation of the Thain. If he hasn't sent a message yet to Tolly, he has a good reason.’

‘It's a good thing Reginard is in Tookbank,’ Rudi said seriously. ‘Tolly's running the Smials at the moment and has a free hand, but when Regi returns-'

‘Thankfully he's not due back for a week,’ Pimpernel said. She would have been less sanguine had she known that the Steward would conclude his business early, arriving back at the Smials before teatime the very next day.

Chapter 27. Not All the Talk...

The talk ran low about the Great Smials; there was not much to talk about with the Thain and his son gone to Buckland, the Mistress evidently holding her own with this new babe, and the sister of the Thain no longer suffering early pains. There were only common things to talk about: the pigs somehow escaping and having to be rounded up; Old Tom's youngest son being thrown from the pony he was training, breaking an arm; the waste of a batch of holiday cakes due to the fact that someone had switched labels on barrels of salt and sugar...

Tookish tongues were aching to wag on the day the Steward returned from Tookbank. The only news of interest was that he'd concluded his business a week early. That was to be expected from one as efficient as Reginard. Tookish teeth were ready to sink themselves into something juicy, a scandal, perhaps, but none offered itself for consumption. Ferdi had not yet returned, but that was nothing to comment on. He'd taken the son of the Thain on to Buckland, after all, and probably stayed to enjoy the Hall's famous hospitality and brandy in the bargain. Tolly kept the Smials running smoothly; he'd a list of tasks as long as his arm that Ferdi had drawn up for him before leaving, and it was a wonder the head of escort found time to eat and sleep.

As it was, Tolly was in Tuckborough when Reginard returned around noontide, and since the Steward took the midday meal with his family, the head of escort didn't see him in the great room when he ate with Haldegrim and Isenard and their families. Meadowsweet frowned to see her husband picking at his food. She certainly hoped a message would come from Ferdi this day, before Tolly wasted away to a shadow of himself. The talk was all about the loss of the brandy-cakes and spicecakes and so Tolly did not hear of Reginard's return until he sat down in the second parlour to a game of Kings with Isenard, the first relaxation he’d allowed himself since Ferdi’d left.

‘Where's Haldi?’ he asked, moving a piece.

Isen studied the board, knitting his brows. ‘Dancing attendance upon the Steward,’ he replied absently.

‘Regi's back?’ Tolly said, abruptly sitting upright. ‘Why didn't anyone tell me?’

Isenard looked up, surprised at first at Tolly's reaction, but of course, the head of escort took his job seriously. ‘You were out,’ he said. ‘I imagine he'll call for you sooner or later.’

Just before teatime, the call came.

***

Gorbibold burst into Diamond's sitting room without knocking. ‘Mum! Come quick - they've arrested Da and they're taking him off somewhere!'

‘What!' Meadowsweet sprang up, her sewing thrown aside. ‘Where?’ she demanded. ‘Where is he?’

‘They were just leaving the Thain's study, and Mum! They tied Da's hands!'

Diamond's face had gone white as milk. ‘Go, Sweetie, find out what's going on!' she said, her voice faint. But Meadowsweet was gone already, the door left open behind her and her son at her heels.

She nearly ran into them in the main corridor, Tolly with his hands bound, Haldi hanging onto his arm, a crowd of staring, whispering hobbits following.

‘Tolly, what's happened? Where are they taking you?’ she cried, ignoring the other hobbits as if they hadn't been there at all. Tolly shook his head at her. Don't make things worse, his eyes pleaded. But Haldigrim brushed her aside. Tolly wasn't talking! Dread clutching her heart, Meadowsweet realised that they'd warned him against speaking until interviewed by the Thain, serious business indeed, the kind of thing that led to shunning or banishment...

‘Business of the Thain,’ Haldi said grimly, refusing to look at her. Though Meadowsweet couldn't see it, he was sick at heart at this turn of events. He didn't think Tolly had conspired to harm the son of the Thain, but evidently Reginard and Everard, two of the sharpest minds in Tookland, did. ‘Tolly, do you want...?’ Did he want Meadowsweet to accompany him to the hearing? It was his right, and hers.

Tolly shook his head again, then glancing at Haldi as if feeling the gag already in his mouth, he whispered, ‘All will be well, Sweetie. Take care of the children. I--' She saw Haldi's knuckles whiten as he gripped Tolly's arm, and her husband broke off. As Haldi pulled Tolly away, nearly dragging him by the arm, Meadowsweet saw in her husband’s eyes what he'd not been allowed to say: I love you! Meadowsweet was left standing in the corridor, twisting her apron in her hands. Around her was a buzz of talk as hobbits poured into the corridor, staring at the spectacle of the head of escort being led away bound.

She pushed through the crowd to one of the sitting rooms at the front of the Smials where she could see outside. She pressed her face to the glass, watching as ponies were brought up, already saddled and carrying gear for travel. Tolly came in sight, still held firmly by Haldigrim. He looked back to the Smials, and she tapped on the window, mouthing 'I love you!' when he glanced her way. He nodded and smiled at her, and then Haldi was helping him to mount his pony as his wrists were still bound before him. Reginard joined them and a moment later they were riding away, Regi a little ahead of the others, Haldi and Isen flanking Tolly's pony. She watched them out of sight and then sank to the floor, covering her head with her shawl, shuddering with sobs.

Nell found her there half an hour later, huddled under the window. She had finished weeping and sat with her legs pulled up, her face on her knees, shawl still thrown over her head.

‘Sweetie? Are you awake?’ Nell asked gently, tugging the shawl away.

Meadowsweet looked up. Her face was swollen and blotchy, but her eyes were dry. ‘Business of the Thain,’ she said bitterly. ‘He wouldn't allow me one minute with my husband, he was that full of himself; wouldn't so much as let Tolly say he loved me.’ Her voice rang in the empty room, fear and sorrow overborne by outrage. ‘We give our hearts and lives to serving the Thain; I neglect my own childer to watch over his wife, and his escort drags my husband away before my eyes and all he can say is "Business of the Thain"!' She got up slowly, her limbs stiffened from sitting so long in one position.

‘Who was it, Sweetie? Who wouldn't let you speak to Tolly?’ Nell was alarmed; she had never seen Meadowsweet in such a mood.

‘I'm going back to my quarters, Nell. Send my childer there if you see any of them, please.’ A sudden thought struck her; Woodruff was attending Diamond just now; Mardi would be at his home in Tuckborough and wouldn't know that his younger brother had been arrested and escorted off somewhere. She must send word to him!

‘O Sweetie, won't you come back and talk to Diamond? She's terribly upset about this; she sent me to find you.’ Nell moved to put an arm around Meadowsweet, but her friend stiffened and put her off.

‘She's upset! I'm surprised she even wants to see my face after my husband's been hauled away in bonds!' she snapped.

‘I'm sure it's all some sort of misunderstanding,’ Nell soothed, but Meadowsweet rounded on her.

‘Misunderstanding!' she said sharply. ‘They don't bind your hands and tongue over a misunderstanding! Next I hear, Tolly might be under the Ban, or banished completely!'

‘It'll hardly come to that,’ Pimpernel said, but Meadowsweet shook her head.

‘You lived away from Tookland too long,’ she said. ‘You've forgotten the Thain's justice.’

Pimpernel was stunned silent. When she finally was able to speak, she said slowly, ‘Peregrin is not Paladin.’

‘Well it looks as if the acorn hasn't fallen far from the tree!' Meadowsweet retorted.

Pimpernel held her temper with an effort. ‘Sweetie,’ she said, hand on her friend's arm, but Sweetie was thinking of Mardi, and pulled away.

‘I've got to tell him,’ she said.

‘Tell who?’ Nell said, confused.

‘Mardi! He doesn't know Tolly's in trouble,’ Meadowsweet said. ‘He's eldest brother, he ought to be there to stand up for Tolly!'

A servant stuck his head in at the parlour door. ‘Begging your pardon,’ he said, ‘but the Mistress sent me to see if you need anything.’

‘You know of the arrest?’ Meadowsweet said, drawing herself up to her full height.

‘Yes’m,’ he said apologetically. ‘It’s all the talk, ma’am.’

‘Then go – send a message to Healer Mardibold, he’s at home in Tuckborough, tell him what’s happened,’ she ordered.

‘Yes’m,’ came the deferential answer. Meadowsweet wondered how long the deference would last. With Tolly arrested, how soon would the whispers and stares assail herself and her little ones? Perhaps they ought to leave the Smials now, before the Talk could hurt the children.

‘Well?’ she demanded. ‘What are you waiting for?’

‘The Mistress sent me,’ the servant repeated. Meadowsweet realised that already her orders were being questioned. She might have to go to Tuckborough herself, or send one of the lads.

‘Yes, yes,’ Pimpernel broke in impatiently. ‘We’ll see to the Mistress. You have your orders, carry them out!’

‘Yes’m,’ the servant said, and bowed his way out.

Meadowsweet stood stiff a moment longer, then sighed and patted Nell's hand.

‘You're a good sort, Nelly. Yes, I'll go to Diamond after I've seen to my little ones. ‘Tisn't her fault, poor poppet.’ She looked Pimpernel in the face, and her brown eyes had lost all their sparkle. ‘I'll help you care for Diamond, but it's for her own sake and not for the Thain. Pippin Took has Haldigrim to look out for his business, and that's more than enough – he'll get no help from me!’

‘Sweetie –’ Nell hardly knew how to respond. ‘Pippin's my brother, you know.’

Meadowsweet nodded. ‘I haven't forgotten that. I won't hold it against you, though.’ She turned and was gone, and Nell stood with her mind whirling. Pippin was in Buckland – did he even know of Tolly's arrest? What was going on – and where in heaven's name was Farry?

That night and the next day were agony for Meadowsweet and her little brood. She kept to her rooms with her little ones as much as possible. Rusty brought their meals and cleared away; he buffered them as well as he could from the wild talk and speculation that ran round the Smials, for Tolly and Sweetie and their children were like a second family to him. Tolly was as honourable and upright as the day was long – what could have possessed the Steward, to have him bound and carried away?

Mardibold came at once from Tuckborough and divided his time between Diamond and Meadowsweet.

‘I haven’t been summoned to attend a hearing,’ he said in reassurance that night, after the little ones were abed, but Meadowsweet was not reassured.

‘What could it be?’ she asked apprehensively. ‘His wretched wagering? I could see how it might earn him a reprimand, but this?’

A terrible storm had broken over Tuckborough that night, mirroring the storm of fear and anger buffeting Meadowsweet. Deep inside the Smials as their suite was, they still felt the effects of the storm as the wind roared outside, sending gusts down the chimneys to flatten the dancing flames on the hearths throughout the dwelling. As yet another gust roared down the chimney, Meadowsweet shivered. ‘They’re out in this,’ she whispered, ‘wherever it is they’ve gone.’

‘I’m sure they sought shelter,’ Mardi said.

‘Shelter,’ Meadowsweet said bleakly. ‘More hobbits to see him bound, more to talk...’

Mardi took her hand. ‘We’ll weather this blow,’ he said. ‘My brother is an honourable hobbit, and if his debts have landed him in trouble... well, I have a bit put away. He’s welcome to it, if it’ll help.’

‘O Mardi!’ Meadowsweet said, her eyes filling with tears. She squeezed his hand but could say no more. A tap came on the door of the suite, and Mardi went to answer, Rusty having gone off duty by this time.

‘Is Sweetie in?’ a sober voice inquired. Two hobbits stood at the door. Mardi was ready to put them off, but Meadowsweet rose, seeing the visitors: Hildigrim Took and Fortinbrand, two of her husband’s largest creditors.

‘Come in,’ she said cautiously. ‘May I offer you tea?’

‘No, thank you,’ Hildigrim said, waiting to seat himself until she was seated. She took comfort in this small courtesy.

Fortinbrand, always one to go straight to the point of a matter, said abruptly, ‘Tolly’s in trouble.’

‘You heard,’ Sweetie said wryly.

‘It’s all the Talk,’ Hildigrim answered apologetically. ‘We’ve come —’

‘We’ve come to offer any aid we can,’ Fortinbrand broke in. ‘It was a bit of bad luck for him, that pony pulling up lame. I tried to talk him out of wagering so heavily, but — ’

‘Very kind of you, I’m sure,’ Sweetie said ironically, and he shot her a sharp glance.

Hildigrim said stubbornly, ‘We’ve come to forgive his debts. That’ll take some of the burden from him, if it’s the debt that has put him in trouble.’ Debt was a disgrace to any self-respecting hobbit, and perhaps the Thain did not tolerate it in his subordinates. Though Thain Peregrin was not a harsh taskmaster, he was an exacting one. He took a paper from his waistcoat and gave it to Fortinbrand who added his own paper to it and extended them both to Meadowsweet.

‘There you are,’ Fortinbrand said. ‘He owes us nothing now, and I won’t take any more wagers from him, not even for a mug of ale.’

‘Nor I,’ Hildigrim said. ‘Wagering is one thing, but ruining someone is quite another.’

Meadowsweet took the papers and looked from one to another, at a loss for words. Fortinbrand looked to Hildigrim and both rose. ‘We won’t impose any further,’ the latter said.

Meadowsweet rose as well. ‘I—’ she said, holding the papers absently.

‘Thank you,’ Mardibold put in smoothly, escorting the two to the door.

Fortinbrand said in parting, ‘If there’s anything we can do, anything at all...’

‘Thank you,’ Mardibold repeated. ‘We’ll keep that in mind.’ He closed the door firmly behind them. ‘You see?’ he said, returning to the sofa. ‘Not all the talk is against you.’

‘That’s a mercy,’ Meadowsweet said softly. ‘I can only hope the Thain feels the same way.’

Chapter 28. Bound and Determined 

The days dragged on. One day Meliloc Brandybuck brought Gorbibold back home, one eye blackened, a handkerchief held firmly to his bleeding nose. ‘I believe this is one of yours,’ he said to Meadowsweet.

‘What happened?’ she asked in shock. She didn’t know Meliloc well, though she’d never heard any ill of him. He was married to Pippin’s sister Pervinca, and his steady, quiet nature stood him in good stead with his mercurial wife. He was well-thought-of in the Great Smials, for a Brandybuck. Practically a Took himself, people said sometimes.

Meliloc pushed Gorbi inside and closed the door. ‘I do believe he had a matter of honour to settle,’ he said.

‘Gorbi!’ Meadowsweet said. ‘You’ve been fighting!’

‘They called Da a blaggard,’ the young hobbit said defiantly. ‘He’s not!’

‘No of course he’s not a blackguard,’ Meliloc said smoothly, ‘nor a scoundrel, for that matter. But fighting won’t prove the point.’ He looked to Meadowsweet. ‘Would you like me to fetch a bit of beefsteak for that eye?’

‘I’ll put a cold cloth on it,’ she replied. ‘Thank you for your kindness.’

With a distinct look of sympathy, he bowed and took his leave.

‘Gorbi, how could you?’ Meadowsweet said. ‘You’ll only make things worse.’

‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ Gorbibold said low. ‘I don’t want to make things worse. I just wish we knew...’

Impulsively, Meadowsweet pulled her eldest to her for a long hug. ‘I know,’ she whispered into his shoulder. ‘I know.’

Though Nell and Sweetie attended Diamond, the Thain’s suite felt like the calm before the breaking of a storm. Nell’s disquiet grew apace with the first message from the Thain. Diamond opened the paper to see the familiar scrawl and placed a hand over her heart as she sighed with relief.

‘I didn’t know how worried I was,’ she said, ‘until I saw his handwriting again! I don’t care how difficult to decipher it is, nor how much trouble to read...’ Nell and Sweetie exchanged half-ashamed glances as she bent eagerly to the missive.

‘What is the news?’ Nell said at last.

‘He and Farry are at Woody End,’ Diamond said. ‘They are well and safe, but anticipate staying there a few days before returning to the Smials...’ She looked up with a puzzled expression. ‘I don’t understand; I thought Pippin was going to Buckland.’

‘Is there any word of Ferdi?’ Pimpernel said.

Diamond looked back down at the letter. ‘No mention of him,’ she said at last. ‘Perhaps he’s sending his own note.’

‘Undoubtedly,’ Meadowsweet said with a reassuring pat on Nell’s arm. She certainly didn’t want Nell to upset herself again.

‘And Sweetie, I’m sorry, he’s said nothing of Tolly. Perhaps there was a miscommunication and Regi took your husband to Buckland. I’m sure Pippin will straighten everything out when he returns.’

Miscommunication, Meadowsweet thought. There had been a lot of communication before Tolly was taken away, according to the talk. A pony post rider had arrived from Brandy Hall, then a quick post rider shortly after, then the pony post rider had been sent out in haste – and then, to the wonder of the Tooks, adding dry fuel to the firestorm of gossip, Everard had gone haring after that rider. Not long after, Regi had dragged off the head of escort, who knew where? No further word of Tolly’s whereabouts had come since.

No note came from Ferdi. Nell and Sweetie kept their children at home. The two families spent time together, but no one went to the great room for meals, and the children did not go out to play in the milder temperatures that followed the great storm. Though the gale had blown itself out, Nell and Sweetie had the definite feeling that another was about to overtake them, a storm of disaster and disgrace. The simple plan to save the Thain from scandal had blown up in their husbands’ faces, and instead the stain of scandal would paint their families for ever more.

Twice more during those days of waiting, the cramps came to Nell, and Mardi or Woodruff attended her. The second time, after she’d awakened from the potion, Woodruff was still sitting by her side. ‘What about Diamond?’ she asked.

‘Mardibold is with her at the moment,’ Woodruff said. ‘You are worrying yourself sick, Pimpernel, and it won’t do at all.’

‘It’s not like Ferdi not to write,’ Nell answered fretfully. ‘He’s been gone for days...’ She had an inkling of how Diamond had felt, when Tolly was withholding her husband’s letters.

‘Surely if something had happened, the Thain would have written to that effect, to speed you to your husband’s side,’ Woodruff soothed.

‘Surely,’ Nell echoed. She started to get up, but Woodruff stayed her.

‘I think we shall keep you on bed rest today,’ the healer said firmly. ‘Each day we can win for this babe ties the knot more firmly.’

‘It’s too early,’ Nell said.

Woodruff smiled. ‘We’re past the danger point, I hope. If you were to have the babe this day, I think all would be well, but let’s not plan to have the babe this day, shall we?’

Towards the end of the day, Pimpernel became aware that they were keeping the children from her. When Woodruff left to take eventides with her husband and Mardibold slipped in to take her place, Nell started up.

 ‘And just where do you think you’re going?’ Mardi asked, helping her sit up, placing pillows appropriately, but not letting her do any more than sit up.

‘The children! I’ve missed the nooning and teatime and now it’s eventides already...’ Pimpernel said. She felt foggy from the draught Woodruff had given her earlier.

‘The children are fine,’ Mardi assured. ‘They’ve taken their meals with Meadowsweet’s family and will probably stay the night as well, to give you some quiet.’

Though sometimes Pimpernel longed for peace and quiet, perversely she wanted her children about her at this moment, the noisier the better. ‘I don’t want quiet,’ she protested.

‘Well you’re going to get it for the next day or three,’ Mardi said sternly. As she became resigned to cosseting, early supper arrived on trays: lovely pigeon pie, swimming with tender vegetables in savoury gravy. Mardi spoke of inconsequentialities as they ate, and Nell answered politely. Mardi did not speak of the talk that had begun to run round the Great Smials. Somehow it had got out that the quick post rider had come from Woody End on the day Tolly was arrested; the arrest had followed immediately upon his arrival, as a matter of fact.

Folk were quick to put two and two together. Ferdibrand Took’s sister lived in the Woody End; Ferdi and Tolly worked closely together. Ferdi had been gone from the Smials since the day after the Thain had left for Buckland and had sent no word back to his wife; no one could imagine anything keeping him from his Nell once she was ordered to bed by the healers. The healers were preventing Nell from seeing anyone in the bargain. On previous “commissions for the Thain”, letters from Ferdi to Pimpernel had arrived daily, sometimes twice daily. There must be some sinister reason if he were not staying in close contact with his beloved wife. Now Tolly had been arrested and taken away and the Thain was staying in Woody End for a few days. None of this boded well for Ferdi. Had he merely been a witness against Tolly, he’d’ve been in contact with his wife...

‘Banishment for certain,’ some of the older, wiser heads were saying, though none had yet worked out the “why” of it. A private trial, to spare the families, was traditional in such cases, unless there were mitigating circumstances. If it were a shunning case, the Thain would have pronounced the Ban right there at the Smials, where the accused lived.

Woodruff feared, and rightly so, the effect of these rumours on Pimpernel should she hear them. She’d probably up and leave the Smials, determined to go to Woody End, and end up having the babe on the road somewhere along the way. The head healer arranged that the only hobbits to see Nell were herself and Mardi. Hard as the healers had tried to shield the children, they’d heard the talk. Woodruff did not want one of the little ones to let things slip by accident. Meadowsweet and Diamond watched over Nell’s children between them, with the added benefit that Diamond’s mind was taken off her own discomfort.

***

They were coming into the outskirts of Tuckborough. Pippin nodded to his steward. ‘Time to make the arrangements,’ he said. Reginard squeezed his legs against his pony, riding ahead of the group.

‘ “Bound was I carried off, bound and determined to return”,’ Tolly quoted softly to Ferdi, riding beside him.

‘Yes, but let’s hope this comes out better than that old story did,’ Ferdi returned. He winced and half lifted his bound hands as if to ease a pain.

 ‘Head again?’ Tolly murmured, but the Thain had seen the gesture as well and reined his pony in closer.

 ‘Ferdi? Is it your head?’ he asked.

 ‘I am well,’ Ferdi said, forcing his hands down. He looked to the Thain. ‘Pip, what’s this going to do to my Nell?’

 ‘Regi’s gone ahead to reassure Nell and Sweetie,’ Pippin said. ‘They’ll know what is to happen ahead of time.’

Ferdi nodded and winced again. Pippin noticed he was breathing rapid, shallow breaths and realised that Ferdi was fighting the nausea that accompanied his head pain when it was growing worse. He pulled his pony to a stop and the entire group halted.

 ‘Ferdi, perhaps we ought to get a litter and carry you in,’ he said seriously.

 ‘You jest!’ Ferdi said, sitting straighter in the saddle though the others could see the effort it cost him. ‘Bound, and carried in on a litter; why don’t you throw a shroud over me for the greatest effect!’

 ‘Ferdi,’ Pippin remonstrated.

 ‘No,’ Ferdi gritted. ‘We’re this close. Let’s just get it over with.’

 ‘Very well,’ Pippin said, seeing that this would be the fastest course towards getting his special assistant settled into a bed where he belonged. He loosened his reins and Socks moved out ahead of the group, increasing to a trot at the pull of stables and home.

Seeing two familiar Tooks riding bound and under escort back to the Smials was enough to stun the good hobbits of Tuckborough to silence. Before long, however, folk were pounding on doors, calling out to one another on the street, spreading the news as quickly as puffpenny seeds on a windy day. An ever-swelling crowd thronged the street, heading to the Smials to see what it all portended.

***

Nell was in a light sleep when she wakened to hushed voices at the door; Mardi was arguing with someone in a whisper. She turned over with difficulty, feeling a twinge in her belly, and somehow managed to gain a sitting position. ‘Regi?’ she said, rising unsteadily from the bed.

Mardi turned from the door in consternation. ‘Stay abed!’ he said.

Reginard slipped past him into the room. ‘Nell,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘Sit down a minute.’

‘What’s happened to Ferdi?’ she asked anxiously.

‘All is well,’ Regi said firmly. ‘Ferdi’s on his way home with the Thain, at this very moment.’

She sank back down on the bed with a sigh of relief. ‘It’s been so long since he sent word...’ she murmured.

’Nell,’ Regi said, ‘there’s something you have to know.’ He squeezed her hand reassuringly. ‘There was a bad misunderstanding, earlier, and Ferdi and Tolly were falsely accused.’

’Falsely...’ Nell said, suddenly wide-awake and completely alert. ‘Accused of what?’ she demanded.

’Accused of keeping the Thain’s son from him,’ Regi said soberly. ‘Actually, that part of it was true, but they were accused of intending harm to Farry.’

’They kept Farry from his father?’ Nell said, stunned. ‘My Ferdi?’ She was sick as she thought of the implications for herself and Sweetie. They had conspired to keep Diamond in ignorance, trying to help Ferdi and Tolly prevent a scandal.

’For the best of purposes,’ Regi said hastily. ‘Farry was determined to run away, and Ferdi was trying to get him to see reason.’

’You don’t reason with a ten-year-old,’ Nell said in exasperation. ‘Not when he’s being totally unreasonable.’

’That’s a part of the problem,’ Regi said. ‘No one’s taken the time to give Farry what he’s needed.’

’Ferdi’s given him a great deal of time!’ Nell snapped.

’Yes, and that’s all that saved us from disaster in this situation,’ Regi said. ‘That and the bite of a fox on Farry’s leg. It slowed him down long enough to listen to Ferdi, though stubborn as the lad is, I’m not sure it would’ve been enough. He might’ve insisted on running off anyhow... who knows what might’ve happened had the Thain not got word that his son was in the Woody End?’ He hesitated, but she’d hear the truth soon enough. ‘Seeing Ferdi and Tolly nearly banished brought the lad to his senses.’

Nell was not as shocked as he’d feared she’d be. She’d known the penalty the moment the steward had said the words “intending harm.” ‘I should hope it would,’ she said fervently. ‘And now they’re being returned, bound, I take it?’

Regi nodded. ‘You must stand witness to Ferdi’s release,’ he said. ‘Woodruff says you’re well enough.’

She sat up straight. ‘Of course I’m well enough,’ she said stoutly. Meadowsweet crossed from the doorway, where Mardi had kept her while he and Regi argued. ‘If you gentlehobbits will excuse me, I need to dress.’

 ‘I’ll help you, Nell,’ Meadowsweet said as Regi rose from the bed, bowed, and exited with the healer.

 Meadowsweet worked swiftly and, not usual for her, without speaking. ‘Sweetie? Your hands are trembling,’ Pimpernel said.

 ‘I am well,’ Meadowsweet said, finishing the last of the fastenings. ‘There,’ she added. ‘You’re dressed. A cloak, I think, and not just a shawl. I understand we’re to meet our husbands in the courtyard and it’s growing colder again.’

 ‘Another weather change,’ Pimpernel said. ‘Ferdi will not be at his best.’

 ‘Winter’s a difficult time for Tolly as well,’ Meadowsweet said absently. ‘Perhaps they ought to have gone on to Gondor anyhow – taking us with them, of course! I understand the climate there is mild.’

Pimpernel reached up to stay Meadowsweet’s hands on the clasp of her cloak. ‘Gondor?’ she said. ‘What do you mean?’ Rapidly Sweetie filled her in, telling her everything Regi had said. He’d arrived at the Great Smials, gone straight to the private quarters of the escort’s families, found Meadowsweet and given her a brief sketch of happenings, then gone to fetch Pimpernel.

 ‘So this is the release?’ Nell said. ‘You’re certain, Sweetie?’

 ‘Of course!’ Meadowsweet said. ‘Why else would the Thain bring them back here bound? If they’d been banished, they’d be in Bree by now, on the other side of the Bounds, waiting for us.’

 ‘You’re right, Sweetie, of course you are,’ Nell said.

 ‘The way the Talk is flying about the Smials, this is the only way for the Thain to make matters right,’ Meadowsweet continued.

Nell gave her a look of surprise, and then nodded. Of course, they’d been keeping the talk from her. She squared her shoulders. ‘Come, then,’ she said. ‘Let us go to greet our husbands.’

Chapter 29. Resolution

When the Thain’s party reached the yard before the Smials, hobbits were spilling out the entrances like ants disturbed in their nest. Tweens perched atop the roofs of stables and other outbuildings; the stairs down from the Great Door were filled with hobbits craning to see, and the courtyard itself was carpeted with excited Tooks and servants. The crowed fell silent and parted before the riders, allowing the Thain to ride to the centre of the yard. There the little group of riders remained, motionless except for the occasional stamp of a restless pony.

Regi and Mardi had taken Pimpernel between them, walking her slowly towards one of the lesser entrances to the Great Smials. ‘There’s no hurry,’ Reginard assured her. ‘Your husband’s not going anywhere.’ Meadowsweet had the children in hand, big ones carrying little ones and keeping the middle ones in their midst.

 ‘I am well,’ Pimpernel said stoutly, but when she saw the surging sea of Tooks in the courtyard she was not so sure. It reminded her of a public trial she’d seen when her father was Thain. There were hobbits who had been overenthusiastic in helping the ruffians during the Troubles. Thain Paladin and Master Saradoc had consulted together, deciding which could be rehabilitated and placing these under the Ban for long enough to consider their actions, and which could not be salvaged and banishing these from the Shire, to go to Breeland, perhaps, or to wander homeless evermore.

The Took guarding the entrance nodded to them without expression, wary of the Steward. He’d heard all manner of rumours and did not know what to think. Best not to think anything until it all came out officially.

 ‘Make way!’ Reginard bellowed, and the hobbits near them squeezed more tightly together. ‘Ready?’ he whispered to Pimpernel. She gave a sharp nod, and they stepped out into the crowd, proceeding with difficulty through the packed bodies.

 ‘It’s all right, poppets,’ Meadowsweet was murmuring. The children were frightened, Nell saw. It was hardly remarkable; she was frightened herself, no matter what reassurances Reginard might have spoken beforehand. She kept her eyes fixed on the little group of riders sitting motionless in the middle of the crowd.

Pippin watched their progress soberly, following the ripple in the crowd as Reginard led Pimpernel and Meadowsweet forward, their children following in a tight little bunch, to stand by their husbands. He’d told them that all would be well, but from their expressions it was clear they were not sure whether to trust his assurances.

Nell moved forward with eyes only for her beloved. Ferdi sat his pony with drooping head and the rest of the riders might have been carved from stone. At a word from Tolly, Ferdi straightened but did not look around. He was ill, Nell realised, and chafed at their slow progress. Why in the world was Pip making her beloved sit in the cold wind, when he plainly belonged in bed?

Coming closer she saw the bonds on Ferdi and Tolly, and though Regi had warned her it was a shock, more so when she saw her husband’s pallor and the lines about his eyes. Tookish temper stirred within her and she took a tight rein on herself. Pippin knew what he was doing, Regi had said. Well, they’d see about that.

When the families reached them the riders got down from their ponies, all but the Thain. He remained on his pony’s back, grimly surveying the crowd, as the escort dismounted and then made a show of helping Ferdi and Tolly from their ponies, although in Ferdi’s case it was rather more than show.

Meadowsweet would have thrown her arms about Tolly, but he warned her off with a shake of his head. This isn’t over yet. his eyes said.

But Regi told me you said, “All is well!” her protesting look replied. He smiled and nodded, then his look swept the faces of his children. Though his heart knew that Meadowsweet would leave all behind and follow him into exile, his mind had not been so sure. A part of him had thought he’d never see them again.

Ferdi did not at first see Nell or his children. The noise of the crowd was a torment to his ears; the diffused light of the cloudy sky assaulted his eyes and he wished only for a hole to be buried in, layers of earth muffling him from sight and sound. He sagged in Haldigrim’s grip. One soft voice broke through to him. ‘Ferdi?’

Straightening, he blinked, groping like one half-blind until his eyes found the face of his beloved. ‘My Nell,’ he breathed, and then felt Haldi tighten his grasp in warning. He was not yet free.

The smaller children were crying in fear and confusion, seeing their fathers bound, hearing the whispers about them, and Meadowsweet bent to croon comfort to her own little ones and Nell’s. Nell stood transfixed, her gaze locked with Ferdi’s.

Pippin waited while hobbits continued to spill from the buildings surrounding the courtyard. When the crowd had swelled to fill the enormous yard, he spoke at last. ‘Tooks and Tooklanders,’ he said. ‘We are gathered here to dispense justice.’ Meadowsweet gathered her little ones closer, a mother hen pulling her chicks under her wings as the shadow of a hawk passes over. A look passed between Pimpernel and Ferdibrand, and she relaxed subtly, nodding to her children. All is well. The lads stood a little straighter, and the lasses swallowed hard and blinked back their tears.

‘Before you are two who have been accused—‘ Pippin said, and the crowd waited for the details of their crimes. Instead, they heard the Thain repeat, ‘two who have been accused falsely of a serious crime, when in fact they were loyally carrying out their duty of protecting the Thain and the family of the Thain.’

There was a murmur, and silence again as Pippin raised his hands. ‘You saw one of these escorted from the Smials bound and under guard.’ He nodded at Tolly. ‘You may well have heard rumours about the other.’ He nodded at Ferdi. The expressions on the faces before him confirmed his words; o how the Tooks loved their Talk.

‘The false accusations have been dealt with, the accusers have been confronted, judgment has been passed, and restitution has been awarded. Now all that remains is to clear the stain on the reputations of these two fine Tooks.’ Pippin surveyed the vast crowd, then slid down from his pony. Taking his knife from his belt, he cut Ferdi’s bonds, then Tolly’s. The crowd began to murmur again; the murmur grew to a tumult, and Ferdi and Tolly were engulfed in the embrace of their wives and children. Haldi and Isen stood close behind Ferdi, catching him when he staggered, taking his arms over their shoulders and bearing him into the Great Smials, closely followed by Nell who was still supported by Mardi, and finally their children.

Tolly was kissing Meadowsweet as if he’d never let her go again, and the hobbits about them were cheering. The head of escort did release his wife at last, falling to his knees on the icy stones to gather his children in his arms as tears ran down his face. Meadowsweet spread her arms to encompass as much of her husband and family as she could, and they stood so a long time, heedless of cold or of the press of congratulatory hobbits around them.

Pippin stood watching until he felt a hand on his arm. Turning, he saw Reginard regarding him with concern. ‘You’re tired,’ the steward said just loudly enough for Pippin to hear over the noise of the crowd. ‘You’ve done all that’s needed. Come in now and rest. Diamond’s waiting.’ The Thain started to protest, then caught the watching eye of his son upon him and all the fight went out of him.

‘Very well, Reg,’ he said. ‘I could stand to take a rest, indeed.’ He held out a hand to Faramir and the lad came to him. Arms about each other, father and son walked through the crowd and into the Great Smials.

Chapter 30. Arrival

Haldi and Isen half-carried Ferdi to his quarters, laying him upon the bed in the inner room. He blinked at Nell as she sat down beside him. ‘Where’s Mardi?’ he asked.

 ‘Here,’ the healer said, entering with a covered cup. He’d handed Nell over to another Took cousin and hurried to the infirmary to pour out a sleeping draught. ‘I want you to drink this.’

 ‘I don’t want it,’ Ferdi said.

 ‘It doesn’t matter whether you want it or not,’ Nell said determinedly. ‘You’re going to drink it.’

 ‘That’s right, Da,’ young Rudi said. ‘Every drop.’

Though Ferdibrand tried to protest, he was overruled by the healer, Pimpernel, and all the children. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I will drink the draught, if I may have a cup of tea to follow.’ He winced again as the children cheered the victory. Seeing this, Mardi was quick to shoo them out of the room. Nell followed him with a question, and when she turned back Ferdi was just draining the cup, making a face. ‘Not as bad as his usual effort,’ he said. ‘He’s putting more honey in than he used to.’

 ‘Well then,’ Nell said quietly. Now was not the time to pump her husband with questions as to just what had happened in Woody End. That would have to come later, when he lost the pinched look about his eyes. ‘Lie yourself down and let me soothe away the pain.’

He put his arms about her and kissed her tenderly. ‘My love,’ he said. ‘My Nell.’ She nestled into his arms and was content to be held for many breaths. Yet another kiss was interrupted by a yawn on Ferdi’s part, and Nell took the opportunity to push him down.

 ‘There!’ she said, moving to where she could run her fingertips back and forth across his forehead. ‘How does that feel?’

 ‘That feels...’ Ferdi said. His voice trailed off into an indistinguishable murmur and his breathing became deep and even.

Nell soothed his forehead for some time, then whispered, ‘Ferdi? My love?’ There was no answer, and she rose cautiously from the bed. Another warning cramp caught her and she sucked in her breath, then relaxed. She'd had plenty of cramping over the last few days, but there was no reason to think the babe would arrive anytime soon. She cast another glance behind her, but Ferdi had not moved.

Exiting the bedroom, she found the children a-bustle, Cori and Freddy laying the table for tea while Mignonette warmed the pot and Rudi and Odo toasted bread over the fire.

 ‘Da’s tea is almost ready,’ Mignonette said.

 ‘He won’t be needing it,’ Nell said. ‘He’s asleep already. Where’s Mardi?’

 ‘He was called away,’ Rudi answered. ‘He said he’d come by later.’

 ‘Ah, good,’ Nell said, taking up her shawl. ‘I have a little errand to run, and I expect I’ll be back in time for tea.’

 ‘An errand?’ Rudi asked. ‘Would you like me to escort you, Mother?’

 ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Nell said brightly. ‘I’m not going far.’ In point of fact, the Thain’s quarters were only a few steps away.

***

Pimpernel found the missing healer in the Thain’s quarters, fussing over Pippin, who was fending off the unwanted attention. ‘I do not know why Regi felt the need to call you,’ the Thain said, frustration in his tone. ‘I don’t know when I’ve felt better!’

 ‘You slept in the open last night,’ Mardi said sternly. ‘In the open air, in winter! You could have sought shelter in a farmhouse or woodcutter’s cot if you did not want to draw attention at an inn, but...’

 ‘You showed precious little sense,’ Diamond scolded. She was one of the few who could openly criticise the Thain, and she was taking full advantage of her position. ‘You might have caught your death! Now stop fussing and let Mardi listen to your breathing!’

Pippin submitted with poor grace, taking deep breaths when Mardi told him to, coughing as instructed, breathing through mouth or nose at Mardi’s request. The healer finally straightened up, saying, ‘It’s a mercy. There doesn’t seem to have been any harm done. I’d still like to smear salve over front and back...’

 ‘That smelly stuff?’ Pippin asked with a sigh. ‘Is it really necessary?’

 ‘Probably not,’ Mardi said, ‘but I’m not taking any chances. Woodruff will have my hide if you fall ill. Chances are, as soon as she returns from her daughter’s hole she’ll want to go over all the same ground I just traversed.’

 ‘What were you thinking?’ Diamond said.

 ‘I’d like to ask the same question,’ Nell put in. Advancing on her brother, she said, ‘What were you thinking? It was you, wasn’t it, who accused Ferdi of intending harm to your son? I cannot see anyone else’s accusation taken seriously, but yours...’

 ‘Yes,’ Pippin said. ‘It was I.’

For a moment Nell was taken aback by his candour, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. Devious her brother might be when it suited his purposes, but he was not deceitful. ‘After all Ferdi’s done for you over the years, and Tolly as well, to think that...’

 ‘They were keeping my son from me,’ Pippin shot back. He took Diamond’s hand and turned again to face his irate sister. ‘They stopped our post, so that my wife worried needlessly.’

 ‘Hmph!’ Diamond said. ‘And you didn’t worry at all?’

 ‘Diamond, love,’ Pippin said and kissed her hand. ‘I thought you too ill to write. You’ve been so miserable, I thought perhaps the smell of the ink set you off or somewhat...’ Diamond hmphed again but allowed her husband to retain her hand.

 Nell, on the other hand, was not impressed. ‘And that was grounds enough for banishing my husband?’ she snapped. ‘Banish him for trying to save your son from—.’ She gasped at a sudden stabbing pain.

Mardibold was at her side immediately. ‘Nell, calm down,’ he said.

 ‘Easy enough for you to say!’ she breathed, then to Pippin she added, ‘I’m not finished with you yet!’ Another pain assailed her.

 ‘Coming awfully close together,’ Mardi muttered. ‘Let us get you back to your own bed.’

 ‘My husband!’ Nell gasped. ‘He took a sleeping draught! O no!’ She began to weep. ‘He’ll miss this birth as well as the last...’

 ‘And it’s my fault,’ Farry said from the doorway where he’d watched the entire exchange.

 ‘No, Farry,’ Pippin said, but he was interrupted by the healer.

 ‘We can assign the blame at a later date,’ Mardi said sharply. ‘This babe is coming any time now, is what I’m thinking.’ He urged Nell towards the door. ‘Come, lass, at least you can be in the same bed where your husband is asleep.’

 ‘He’ll be there in spirit,’ Diamond said, moving to Pimpernel’s other side. ‘O Nell, I’m sorry about this whole mess.’

 ‘You’ve no cause to apologise,’ Nell gasped as Diamond and Mardi guided her out the door and towards her own apartments.

 ‘Perhaps I don’t,’ Diamond said with a significant look behind them and Mardi repressed a snort. Thain Peregrin was in for it and no mistake.

 ‘Mum? What is it?’ Mignonette gasped as they entered.

 ‘What do you think?’ Nell asked acidly.

 ‘She must be close; she’s being rude,’ Rudi said worriedly.

 ‘I’m not being rude!’ Nell snapped. ‘You try having a babe and you’ll see...’ She broke off as an overwhelming urge seized her; she stopped short and hugged herself, panting.

 ‘Don’t push,’ Mardi warned. ‘Not until I’ve had a look.’ Nell glared at him and Diamond smothered an absurd desire to laugh.

 ‘Let’s get her on the bed,’ Ferdi said from the doorway to their bedroom.

’Ferdi!’ Nell gasped. Her husband stepped forward, sweeping her up in his arms, taking her to the bed, holding her a moment while Diamond prepared the bed, and then Ferdi laid her down. Mardi immediately got down to business while Diamond organised the children in the sitting room.

 ‘I want Woodruff!’ Nell said unreasonably.

 ‘I see a curly crown!’ Mardi announced, ignoring her complaint. ‘We won’t even need the birthing stool at this rate. All right, sweet Nell, you may push if you wish; all is well.’

  ‘Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?’ Nell asked Ferdi, who was holding her close for want of anything better to do. To her frustration, the urge had subsided. She wondered if she’d ever be done with this, and suffered an absurd desire simply to get up and leave the business to everyone else.

 ‘Aren’t you supposed to be pushing?’ Ferdi returned pleasantly.

 ‘If you know so much why don’t you have this baby!’ Nell gritted, but then another wave broke over her and she was for the moment beyond words.

 ‘Less talking, more pushing,’ Mardi said encouragingly. ‘Now, Nell!’

Ferdi was never quite sure afterwards how it happened, but soon he heard a thin cry and then Mardi was laughing. ‘A lass!’ the healer called triumphantly. ‘A beautiful lass!’ Soon the healer was holding a blanket-wrapped babe. ‘Sit down, Ferdi,’ he said. ‘Here’s your daughter.’

 ‘My daughter,’ Ferdi breathed, sinking down next to Nell, whose ill temper had vanished as quickly as the babe had come. ‘Look, Nell, it’s my daughter.’ Pimpernel laughed softly, even as tears filled her eyes to see her beloved holding the blanketed bundle as if a breath might break the tiny mite.

 ‘Our daughter, you mean,’ she said with a smile.

 ‘That’s what I said,’ Ferdi whispered. ‘Isn’t she grand?’

Chapter 31. From One Heart to Another

 ‘A fine lass,’ Diamond said. ‘Strong, for all she came earlier than she was supposed to.’

The hobbits gathered in the corridor made a pleased jumble of noise. Meadowsweet smiled widely from the circle of Tolly’s arm as Haldi said, ‘Ferdi was there? I thought Mardi brought him a sleeping draught!’

 ‘Aye, and he drank nearly the half of it,’ Diamond said wryly. ‘The other half went into the chamber pot when Nell’s back was turned.’ The assembled hobbits laughed, though quite a few shook their heads. They were surprised to hear Ferdi had taken any at all, knowing how he avoided healers and their potions like the plague.

 ‘Come, Sweetie,’ Tolly said now, giving his wife a little tug. ‘It was a long ride, and I’m that ravenous.’

 ‘Rusty probably has the table laid already,’ Meadowsweet said. She looked to Diamond. ‘Go and put your feet up, Mistress! You’ve your own babe to be cosseting.’

 ‘Don’t you worry,’ Diamond said. ‘I haven’t felt so well in days.’ Nevertheless, she turned back to the Thain’s private quarters. There was still some business to take care of.

She found Pippin and Farry sitting together, talking quietly. Pippin stood at her entrance, their son hastily rising in imitation of his father; both waited for Diamond to seat herself before resuming their seats. Pippin put one of his arms about his son, pulling him close.

 ‘Well now,’ Diamond said, looking from one to the other. ‘What was this all about?’

 ‘It was my fault,’ Farry said, setting his chin. ‘I ran away.’

 ‘You ran away,’ Diamond echoed. Lads had been known to play a game of “run away” before: grab a bag of bread-and-cheese and steal out of the Smials, creeping back as soon as night began to cast its shadows over the land.

 ‘He really did, my love, no child’s game,’ Pippin said soberly. ‘He was more than halfway to Buckland when Ferdi caught up with him.’

 ‘Halfway to Buckland!’ Diamond gasped, thinking of foxes and stoats and stray dogs. ‘Were you thinking to show up at Brandy Hall, to surprise your father after being left home?’

 ‘I was going to Gondor,’ Farry said, swallowing hard.

 ‘Gondor,’ Diamond whispered. ‘O Farry.’ She looked to her husband. ‘What sort of tales have you been filling his head with?’

 ‘It was all my fault,’ Faramir persisted. ‘My idea.’ To his surprise, his father spoke up, firmly overriding his words.

 ‘No, Faramir,’ Pippin said. ‘It was not all your fault. A great deal of the fault lies with your father and your mother.’ He reached out to Diamond, taking her hand. ‘We’ve been so wrapped up in our misery we’ve hardly had a civil word for you in two years.’

Diamond’s eyes flooded with tears and she forced down a sob. ‘That’s all over and done,’ she said bravely.

 ‘No, it’s not,’ Pippin answered, his voice quiet. ‘Even now we grieve the babe born too soon, and we fear for the babe you bear.’

 ‘It was my fault,’ Faramir said low. ‘That was my fault as well,’ he repeated.

 ‘Your fault!’ Diamond said. ‘How?’

 ‘You fell,’ Faramir whispered, eyes fixed on his hands, twisted together in his lap.

 ‘O Farry,’ Diamond said, getting up to move to their son’s other side, sitting down next to him, throwing her arms around him. ‘You didn’t make me fall.’

 ‘I had a bad dream,’ Farry said simply. ‘You got up because I was calling to you, and you fell, and my little brother died next day.’

 ‘O Farry no!’ Diamond sobbed, pulling him close.

Pippin let mother and son weep together for some moments, his own eyes glistening, before saying quietly, ‘And Sandy thought he’d lose his position because the carpet was loose and your mother caught her foot when she rose from the bed.’

 ‘Sandy?’ Faramir said.

 ‘You see,’ Pippin continued in a reasonable tone, though his heart was wrung within him, ‘Sandy blamed himself.’ He smiled ironically. ‘He claimed the fault was his. Of course it wasn’t. It was no more his fault, Farry, than it was yours, or your mother’s, or Healer Woodruff’s.’

He took a deep breath. ‘The real tragedy in all this is what happened after. I lost myself in my work and did not give your mother the time and tenderness she needed to heal her grief, and neither of us gave you what you needed, lad. We’ve let you muddle along while we buried ourselves, when what you required was the love of a mother and a father.’

Diamond listened, breathing shallowly, tears running down her cheeks, but she was nodding. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Of course.’ She hugged her son. ‘O Farry, forgive me.’

 ‘O Diamond,’ Pippin said, his arms encompassing wife and son. ‘Forgive me.’

Diamond pushed herself back, wiping at her face. ‘That depends,’ she said, sniffling. ‘What am I forgiving?’

Pippin smiled. ‘Do you want a list?’ he said softly.

 ‘Do I need one?’ Diamond said.

 ‘Ah, love, you know me too well,’ Pippin answered. ‘Very well.’ He ticked off one finger. ‘For burying myself in business after our son died.’

 ‘Yes,’ Diamond said, sitting a little straighter, one hand unconsciously going to her belly.

Pippin ticked off another finger. ‘For passing Farry on to my special assistant, thinking he’d get more attention that way, more care, thinking that the business of being Thain was more important than anything else.’

 ‘Yes,’ Diamond said again, and Farry nodded.

Pippin ticked a third finger. ‘For going off to Buckland for diversion, without taking you along, when surely you could use a change of scene as well, and a chance to be relieved of some of the everyday tasks that burden you.’

 ‘There is that,’ Diamond agreed.

Pippin ticked off a fourth finger. ‘For falsely accusing Ferdibrand and Tolibold of intending harm to Farry,’ he said.

 ‘O Pippin,’ Diamond gasped. Pimpernel's words had not registered at the time she was berating her brother, but now the implications struck Diamond full force. ‘Falsely accusing... intending harm... that’s banishment!’

 ‘Or restitution,’ Pippin said. ‘I have apologised, and I have only begun to pay.’ He watched Diamond with narrowed eyes. ‘Are you well, my love?’ he asked. ‘We can finish this another time. I do not want to tax you.’

 ‘I am well,’ Diamond said defiantly, straightening once more. ‘Don’t tell me there’s something worse.’

 ‘Much worse,’ Pippin said. ‘But it is also the last, I hope.’

 ‘I don’t know what to hope,’ Diamond said slowly, as Faramir looked from mother to father in wonder. He could not remember the last time they had talked so... clearly... before him.

 Pippin hesitated, then steeling himself, he ticked the last finger. ‘For dying,’ he said softly. ‘For leaving you a widow, and Farry fatherless, and for refusing to face the fact that it’s going to happen one of these days, sooner than later if the healers are to be believed.’

 ‘O Pippin,’ Diamond whispered once again and looked to their son.

  ‘Farry knows,’ Pippin said. ‘I thought to hide it from him, but he’s known for years, haven’t you, lad?’ He tousled the curls so like his own. ‘You’re a bright one; you can add two and two as well as any other Took.’

Looking back to Diamond, he added, ‘I’ve tried to deny it myself, resented the healers and their attentions, resisted any “help” they’ve tried to offer, made their job harder and caused you needless worry.’

 ‘You are a Took,’ Diamond said simply.

 ‘Yes, Tooks and our disdain of healers,’ Pippin said. ‘You’d think we were made of something stronger than flesh and bone, the way we carry on. Well, my love,’ he added with a sigh, ‘I’m going to try to do better. O—‘ he said, holding up his hands, ‘I’m not going to turn into a Lalia, groaning about my many complaints and fussing about shawls and medicaments and fresh air and ailments, but I will try to heed the healers... and you, my dear,’ he finished, taking Diamond’s hand once more. ‘That is a promise.’

 ‘Da always keeps his promises, you know,’ Faramir said earnestly.

 ‘I know,’ Diamond said, and the three shared a long, wordless embrace.

Finally Pippin settled back, unobtrusively wiping his face and putting on a smile. ‘So,’ he said. ‘What’s the word about Nell? Am I an uncle or an aunt this time?’

Chapter 32. Conversations at Table

 ‘What do you mean, you’re going to the great room?’ Meadowsweet demanded, not trying to conceal her outrage. Rusty did have the table laid already, as a matter of fact, and savoury smells wafted from their suite when Tolly opened the door.

 ‘My beloved, you know the escort always dine together,’ Tolly said. ‘Think how the tongues will wag if I am not in the great room this evening.’

 ‘I hardly see how it matters, as we will not be much longer in the Great Smials,’ Meadowsweet snapped.

 ‘Not much...’ Tolly echoed, at a loss.

 ‘You cannot plan to go on as if nothing has happened!’ Meadowsweet said in shock. ‘After what the Thain nearly did...’

 ‘After what the Thain nearly did,’ Tolly said calmly. ‘Do you know, my love, that he offered us half his holdings in restitution?’

 ‘As if gold could pay for the damage…’ Sweetie muttered resentfully, then her eyes widened. ‘Did you say half his holdings?’

 ‘I did,’ Tolly said, ‘though neither Ferdi nor I would take such.’

 ‘More fool you,’ Sweetie flared, ‘after what he did! You could buy your own piece of land and we could...’

 ‘My dear, I am head of escort,’ Tolly replied. ‘Having my own piece of land would not be convenient. How could I keep watch over the Thain were I not on the spot?’

 ‘Head of escort!’ Meadowsweet spluttered.

 ‘Yes,’ Tolly said, and when he used that tone there was no moving him, Sweetie knew from years of marriage to the hobbit. ‘Now my dear,’ he added, holding out his arm to her, ‘would you care to accompany me to eventides in the great room?’

 ‘I...’ Sweetie floundered, filled with fury at her husband’s calm acceptance of the situation, and despair that she could not move him.

 ‘Please?’ he added softly. He said naught else, but his eyes pleaded for him. This is my choice, my love. I want no other life. With you by my side, I have all I desire.

 ‘Well,’ she whispered, and suddenly all the fight went out of her. She put a hand to his cheek, which might well have sported a brand... but didn’t. ‘When you put it that way...’

Tolly put his hand over hers, pressing it to his face, closing his eyes the better to feel the reality of her touch. They stood thus for an eternity before Rusty cleared his throat from the doorway.

 ‘Supper’s going cold,’ he said apologetically. ‘Will you be dining in, or going to the great room, if you please?’

Meadowsweet drew herself up to her full diminutive height. Lifting her chin, she answered with great dignity, ‘We’ll be taking eventides in the great room tonight, Rusty. I’ll be back in time to tuck the little ones into bed and tell them their story.’

 ‘We’ll be back in time to tell them their story,’ Tolly corrected. Renewing his hold on Meadowsweet’s hand, he walked her to the great room.

The room was busy with chatter but the talk quickly died at their entrance. Tolly smiled and squeezed Sweetie’s hand, leading her to the escort’s table. The hobbits of the escort rose as one out of deference to their head and remained standing until Tolly seated his wife and then himself. The buzz of talk resumed.

Knowing that all eyes were upon them Meadowsweet tried to smile and laugh as usual, taking part in the conversations at the table, eating heartily, pretending for her Tolly’s sake that all was as it had ever been.

The talk died once more and Sweetie looked up to see Ferdibrand pausing in the entryway. He walked over to the escort’s table. ‘May I join you?’ he said cheerily, though all could see the lines of pain about his eyes.

 ‘Why aren’t you with Nell?’ Sweetie demanded. What was he doing here when he ought to be in bed, or at the very least by the side of his wife?

 ‘She’s asleep, and the Thain asked me to take eventides in the great room,’ Ferdi said. ‘It seems he wants to reassure the Tooks that all is well.’

 ‘He’s got a nerve,’ Sweetie muttered, but Tolly stepped on her foot and indicated an empty place, shooting her a look that said Don’t keep the hobbit standing there!

 ‘Join us, and welcome,’ he said, waving to the servers to bring another plate.

Ferdi sat down with a sigh, but immediately pasted on a smile and began chatting animatedly, interspersing low-voiced comments that only the escort heard, putting them all in stitches.

 ‘Quite the lovely weather we’re having,’ he said aloud for the benefit of ears straining to hear their conversation, adding in a whisper, Perfect for warming your hands over a crackling fire, don’t you think?

Bite your tongue! Hilly hissed, but Tolly laughed.

 ‘Very lovely,’ he answered, cutting a piece of ham and stuffing it in his mouth. Not to mention a cup of hot cider before heading out to parts unknown.

 ‘Do you really think so?’ Ferdi said, affecting great interest as a server placed a laden plate before him. ‘Are you saying that we’ll have a good growing year?’

 ‘Undoubtedly,’ Haldi said. The talk continued much in this manner for several minutes, with Ferdi inquiring solicitously after Meadowsweet and the children, all the while interspersing whispered comments. The members of the escort had to suppress grins at seeing Tooks at nearby tables nearly falling out of their chairs to hear the talk.

 ‘Aren’t you going to eat?’ Meadowsweet asked Ferdibrand acerbically. She’d had quite enough of the joke.

Ferdi dove into his plateful, closing his eyes as he chewed and swallowed. ‘Ah,’ he said in satisfaction. ‘Nothing like a good bit of meat and potato.’ He took a swig of tea. Do you suppose they have such food in Gondor?

 ‘A bit fancier, but just as tasty,’ Pippin said behind him, slapping him on the back as he choked on his tea. ‘The portions leave a bit to be desired. For such Big folk, Men hardly eat enough in a day to make a single meal for a hobbit.’ Diamond smiled, and Farry stood between his parents.

The escort rose hastily to acknowledge the Thain, but he waved them all to their chairs. ‘May we join you?’ he asked.

 ‘Certainly, certainly Sir,’ Tolly said, rising again to offer his own chair, but Pippin told him to sit down and gestured to a server to set places for himself, Diamond and Farry.

Once the places were set he saw Diamond into her chair and Faramir to his and then took his own place. ‘Lovely weather we’re having,’ he said, aware that all eyes in the room were now glued to the escort’s table.

 ‘Quite right, my dear,’ Diamond said in confirmation.

Stay seated, the Thain whispered next, and the hobbits of the escort eyed one another. What was he up to? Pippin gave a nod and rose again, standing a moment, stretching to his full height. He then bowed with a flourish to the escort at large, rising to say, ‘I thank you for your hospitality.’

Gathering his wits Tolly nodded. ‘You’re most welcome, Sir,’ he said faintly.

Pippin bowed even more deeply, this time to Tolly, holding the bow an eternity (as it seemed to the head of escort), rose, and bowed again to Ferdi for a long moment, until his cousin was moved to hiss, Get up you idiot!

 ‘Not at all,’ Pippin said rising again. ‘Just showing the Tooks where you stand in my esteem.’

 ‘We’re sitting, rather,’ Ferdi said crossly, ‘and you ought to follow suit!’

 ‘I beg your pardon,’ Pippin said, not at all contrite, and took his chair beside Diamond once more. ‘Shall we have a bonfire this evening, my dear? Roast bacon and mushrooms on sticks, and bake apples and taters in the ashes?’

 ‘Not to mention the head of escort and your special assistant,’ Diamond murmured behind her serviette.

 ‘O yes, we ought to invite them to join us,’ Pippin said blithely, ‘and all their families as well. I’m sure the children would enjoy the treat.’

 ‘Why not the whole Smials?’ Ferdi said acidly.

Pippin took a large bite of his dinner and eyed his special assistant with appreciation. ‘That’s what I like about you, cousin,’ he beamed. ‘You’re chock-full of good ideas!’

Chapter 33. Refining Fire

There were cheers as Reginard thrust the torch into the oil-soaked piled-high wood. Ferdibrand tensed as the flames roared skywards; he’d never cared much for bonfires, the wild burning barely contained, flames rising higher than a hobbit’s head, sparks flying up as if seeking to take their places amongst the stars. Worse, Nell was not by his side to steady him. He wished he were with her in the big bed, cuddling close, marvelling anew at curls and eyelashes and tiny, perfectly formed fingers and toes. But no, he understood the need to be here, to show the Tooks that all was well.

Of course, if you looked at Meadowsweet, standing grim at Tolly’s side, you might not believe the reassurance that Thain and Steward were trying to convey. Every line of her body was stiff with resentment, her eyes snapped, and her lips were set in a thin line. Their children stood uncertainly around them. It was a festive affair but their mother was not acting at all festive, and they’d heard their parents arguing before they’d come out for the lighting of the bonfire, Sweetie shooting flaming darts of anger which Tolly quenched as quickly as they landed.

As soon as the fire settled to a steady burning, teens and tweens moved forward to thrust long sticks in, each seeking the perfect spot for the bacon and mushrooms they were roasting. Servers moved through the crowd with mugs of ale. By custom the Thain received the first mug, but did not drink until he’d seen the servers reach the edges of the crowd. When he estimated that everyone had been served, he raised his mug in a toast.

 ‘To loyal Tooks!’ he cried, and with a cheer the crowd drank.

It was time for Reginard to lift his mug to toast the Thain as custom demanded, but as he raised his hand, shouting, ‘To the...’ Pippin cut him off, pulling his arm down again, spilling some of the fine ale.

 ‘Why’d you do that?’ he asked, dumbfounded, even as the crowd fell silent.

 ‘I know,’ Pippin said regretfully. ‘Pity to waste a drop of this.’ He took another sip from his mug and turned to the staring crowd. Raising his voice he shouted, ‘Do not drink to the Thain this night; he doesn’t deserve it.’

There were scattered exclamations of shock and then the only sound was the roar and snap of the fire.

 ‘Pip,’ Ferdi said in an undertone, but his cousin shook off his restraining hand.

 ‘No,’ he said clearly, his voice carrying to the edges of the crowd. ‘No, for the Talk will be heard throughout the land whether we stand silent or shout out the truth, so let us shout!’ Indeed, his voice rose as he spoke so that he was shouting at the last. He certainly had the attention of all.

Ferdi held his breath, exchanging glances with Tolly. One was never quite sure what would come from Pippin next... He wished to put all this mess behind him, quietly sweep it under the rug, but it didn’t seem that the Thain had the same desire.

Pippin looked from Ferdi to Tolly. His eye fell upon Meadowsweet and he nodded as if the anger in her countenance confirmed his thoughts. Raising his voice again, he said, ‘I am not fit to be your Thain.’

Sweetie gasped, as did the rest of the crowd, while the hobbits of the escort shuffled their feet and glanced at one another uneasily.

Pippin continued. ‘I have made serious errors in judgement, accused loyal Tooks of disloyalty, made decisions without thinking matters through, and nearly ruined the lives of two who have sworn to lay down their lives for me and for my family.’

 ‘Pip,’ Ferdi said again under his breath.

 ‘No,’ Pippin said firmly. ‘I want it to be perfectly clear in any of the Talk that results from this, that I am at fault, I am to blame, and Tolibold and Ferdibrand retain their honour. If anyone’s honour and good name is to be tarnished, let it be mine and mine alone!’

 ‘Well the Master of Buckland played some little part,’ Tolly muttered, but Pippin quelled him with a glance. Meadowsweet stood stock-still, her anger turned to confusion. Master of Buckland? She had thought Pippin alone bore the blame for the near-ruin of her family.

 ‘Don’t forget Ev’ard,’ Haldi said in a low tone.

 ‘Regi put him up to it, with all his talk of ruffians,’ Hilly added. Meadowsweet stared from one hobbit of the escort to another. What was going on?

 ‘If the Tooks desire it I will step down,’ Pippin continued now. ‘If you will still have me, I will do my best to serve you with all my heart and my strength. You have my loyalty, and I will do all I can to deserve yours in turn.’

There was a breathless silence as the hobbits in the crowd exchanged glances. What ought they to do?

The escort solved the problem neatly by bowing down to the Thain en masse, in a movement so smooth it might have been rehearsed were it not so spontaneous. The crowd murmured. If the escort, the hobbits closest to the Thain, gave him their trust, then the rest of the Tooks could do no less.

Regi raised his mug once more, and the rest of the hobbits gathered there followed suit, knowing what he was about to say. It was custom, after all. ‘To the Thain!’ he shouted, and there was an echoing roar from the crowd before all drank the toast.

***

Tolly went off to fetch fresh mugs for himself and the Thain. When he’d left Sweetie she was still tense, but when he returned, to his astonishment he found her standing next to Pippin and laughing. ‘I cannot believe your aunt would have said such a thing to Mistress Lalia!’ she gasped.

 ‘Thankee,’ Pippin said, taking the mug and turning back to Tolly’s wife. ‘Well you know what happened... as a matter of course Mistress Lalia gave orders that all new gowns were to have “becoming lace” sewn at the top, seeing as how it was the latest fashion in Buckland!’

 ‘But it wasn’t,’ Meadowsweet said wryly.

 ‘O yes it was,’ Pippin said, ‘Just as soon as Auntie Esmeralda returned to Buckland and told everyone that it would be the latest fashion from that point on!’ He laughed heartily. ‘What a disappointment to young hobbits, to have all that loveliness covered up with lace!’

 ‘I’d heard the fashion at the Smials was scandalous at the time, that one “young lady” actually fell out of her dress at a ball and caused great embarrassment to the hobbits around her,’ Meadowsweet said. ‘It was all the talk of the village, and when the steward came through looking to hire serving lasses for the Great Smials Granda wouldn’t let my mother go, or any of her sisters.’

 ‘Well the fashion changed,’ Pippin said, ‘and now you know the real reason why.’

 ‘Of course it did,’ Meadowsweet said, ‘else I never would have come to the Smials as a serving lass,’ she took Tolly’s arm and of a wonder smiled up at him, ‘and met my true-love, and married him.’

Pippin smiled as well, and Ferdi was nodding nearby. It looked as if the charm of the Thain had won over his most adamant critic. ‘A fine hobbit he is, too,’ Pippin said.

 ‘Don’t I know it,’ Meadowsweet agreed, and Tolly sighed in relief. Perhaps there’d be no more arguing over leaving the Great Smials. On the other hand, if Meadowsweet were to be reminded of the agonies of this past week, as she inevitably would be, perhaps the arguments weren’t quite over. He’d have to be on his toes, or she might manoeuvre him into agreeing to take the Thain’s restitution, becoming a smallholder on their own piece of land. Not a bad thing to keep in mind for the future, but he wasn’t quite ready to lay down his duties yet...

His musings were interrupted as a shift in the wind blew a wisp of smoke their way. It was an inconvenience, and he winked hard to rid his eyes of the stinging tears, even as he held his breath and waved the smoke away. When his vision cleared he saw the Thain held firmly in Ferdibrand’s grasp. Pippin had evidently taken a lungful, caught unawares by the smoke for he stood with his mouth open, hands pressed to his chest as he gasped for air. A sudden attack of violent coughing shook the Thain, bending him nearly double.

Tolly jumped to his side. ‘Let’s get him out of here,’ he said, taking Pippin’s other arm. Ferdi nodded and they pulled him away from the bonfire, the crowd parting before them as the celebrating hobbits realised the Thain’s predicament.

Healer Mardibold met them at the edge of the crowd. ‘Lay him down,’ he said, but Pippin shook his head.

 ‘No,’ he managed to gasp. ‘Inside, away from...’

Ferdi nodded. ‘Away from the crowd,’ he said, taking a fresh grip on Pippin’s arm. ‘Come on, Tolly.’ It would do no good for the confidence of the Tooks to see Pip helpless in the grip of one of his breathless fits.

They half-carried him quickly through one of the lesser entrances of the Great Smials and into a small parlour, where Mardibold opened the Thain’s shirt with such urgency that half the buttons popped from their threads. He smeared a pungent ointment liberally over Pippin’s throat, chest and back. ‘This’ll help open things up,’ he said encouragingly. ‘Just keep breathing.’

 ‘Easy enough for you to say,’ Pippin managed, but Mardibold interrupted.

 ‘Save your breath,’ he said. ‘No talk! I don’t care how difficult it is for you to hold your tongue, just do it!’

Young Faramir hovered in the doorway. Pippin held out a hand to his son and Farry swiftly crossed to his father and took tight hold. ‘Please,’ the lad whispered.

Pippin could spare him no word, for all his effort now was given to the fight to breathe. He locked eyes with his son, however, and each drew strength from the other.

Running feet were heard in the corridor and Haldi burst into the room, bearing a draught that he’d been sent to fetch. ‘Good,’ Mardi said. ‘Drink this all down.’

Pippin drank, gagging at the taste. ‘That’s right,’ Mardi said grimly. ‘I made it extra bitter for your nearly banishing my brother! Drink it anyhow.’

The Thain’s breath was beginning to come easier already, thanks to the ointment, and he whispered, ‘You ought not joke at a time like this.’

 ‘Who’s joking?’ Mardi said. Pippin drank the rest of the draught with a shudder. Mardi sat quietly beside him, holding his wrist to count heartbeats as the rapid shallow breaths steadied and became slower and deeper. Finally he released the Thain's wrist with a sigh and shake of his head. 'Well, you've managed to dodge the blow once more, Sir, but I'd avoid bonfires in future were I you.'

 'A bit awkward, that,' Pippin said, letting his head fall back to rest. 'Who'd give the Thain's toast to open the festivities?'

 'I'll do it,' Ferdi said, 'if only to keep you from the smoke.'

Pippin smiled and closed his eyes, drifting away under the influence of the draught.

 ‘Why?’ Meadowsweet whispered from the doorway. She’d left the children in the care of their eldest brother and followed the little group to the parlour. She crossed now to Tolly’s side, looking down at the Thain. ‘Why do you stay?’ she added.

 ‘I beg your pardon?’ Pippin said politely, opening his eyes. They were somewhat clouded from lack of air and the relaxing draught.

 ‘Sweetie,’ Tolly hissed, but the Thain put up a forestalling hand.

 ‘No,’ Pippin said. ‘I want to hear her out.’ He blinked his eyes to clear them. ‘Is it that you think I’m not fit to be Thain? Why didn’t you speak up by the fireside just now?’

 ‘Why do you stay, ill as you are?’ Meadowsweet said, falling to her knees before him, taking his other hand. ‘I’ve heard the Talk, how the burden of the Thainship takes all your strength and pulls you down. How you’d live longer if you lived quietly with just your wife and family and not all us Tooks to worry you. Why do you stay?’

 ‘Do you know,’ Pippin said softly, his fingers tightening on Faramir’s and Meadowsweet’s.

 ‘Yes, Da?’ Farry said encouragingly.

 ‘How I love the Shire,’ Pippin said, his voice low and dreamy, eyes not seeming to see the others in the room. ‘D’y’know, I never knew how richly blessed we are, until I went away to the Southlands, to War and battle and despair... So green,’ he said. ‘To see cool sunlight and green grass again, a forlorn hope in that forsaken place...’

 ‘Come, Sir, let us take you off to your bed,’ Mardi said gently. ‘We'll let Diamond see that you're well before she happens to hear otherwise.’

As they lifted him, Pippin retained his grasp on Meadowsweet’s hand. He turned his head to look searchingly into her eyes. ‘I love the Shire,’ he repeated sleepily.

 ‘I know you do,’ she answered, for it seemed he was waiting for an answer.

 ‘So green,’ Pippin whispered again, releasing her hand as his eyes closed and he slept.

Chapter 34. Starting Fresh

Old Tom the head of the Thain’s stables sucked on his empty pipe as he looked the young hobbit up and down. ‘Tell me again,’ he said slowly. He waited for the disrespectful outburst, the inevitable look of annoyance and disdain.

Faramir repeated respectfully, ‘I would like to sell my saddle for a fair price, what it is worth and not a copper penny more.’

 ‘You would like to sell your saddle,’ Old Tom said slowly. ‘Does the Thain know of this?’

 ‘Yessir,’ Farry said. ‘You may ask him if you like, but I’d rather take care of this without bothering him.’

 ‘I see,’ Old Tom said, nodding. If the lad were selling the saddle without the Thain’s knowledge, undoubtedly the lad would get a scolding and a new saddle soon after. It was no skin off his teeth. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Let us take a look.’

They walked to the tack room where the saddles were kept. Old Tom lifted the saddle down from its hook as it was heavy for a lad of Farry’s age, and besides, protocol kept the lad from doing anything useful. He placed it on the stand and opened the shuttered windows to let the sunlight stream in.

The saddle gleamed with polish and rubbing and Tom’s eyebrows rose. ‘Someone’s done a fine job,’ he said. ‘I hadn’t assigned anyone to clean your tack as of yet, for all you arrived yesterday. The regular lad who does the tack is ill.’

 ‘I cleaned it,’ Farry said quietly, and the old ostler looked from saddle to lad and back again. ‘I want it to fetch a good price.’

 ‘Are ye in trouble, lad? If it’s a matter of debts...’ Tom said, though he could not imagine one of Farry’s tender years owing anyone.

 ‘No,’ Farry said. ‘I just want to sell it is all. It’s a fine saddle.’ His hand went out and he caressed the shining leather before he stood straight again. ‘Can you find a buyer, d’you think?’

 ‘I’ll buy it myself,’ Old Tom said. ‘I should turn a silver penny or two at the Yuletide market, if I decide not to give it to one of my own sons.’ He didn't want to insult the lad by speaking his thoughts: the Thain would pay him his money back when he came to reclaim the lad's saddle. Tom would keep it safe until he found out which way the wind was blowing, save a lot of fuss and bother that way.

 ‘A fair price,’ Farry reminded him, ‘and not a penny more. If I find you’ve overpaid me...’

 ‘Don’t you worry, young sir, I’m not in the business of charity,’ Old Tom said, stung. ‘You wait here a moment,’ he added, and the son of the Thain nodded.

Tom was somewhat surprised to find Farry still in the tack room when he returned with a bag of coins. He’d half-expected to hunt up the lad only to be laughed at — was he really thinking to buy the fine saddle? ...told it was “only a jest”. ‘Here you are,’ he said, holding out the bag. ‘What your saddle is worth, not a penny less, nor more.’

Farry took the bag, weighing it on his palm. There would be enough to pay the farmer twice the value of the food he’d taken, and enough left over to give Ferdibrand something — not enough, for not even all the gold in the Thain’s hoard would begin to repay Farry’s debt — but something. ‘I thank you,’ he said formally, with a bow. Tom lifted the saddle to another hook, but as he turned to go the lad stopped him.

 ‘Sir?’ he said.

 Tom turned half-angrily, muttering, ‘You don’t have to “sir” me, young sir,’ but at the look on Farry’s face he fell silent.

 ‘I was looking for work,’ Farry said.

 ‘You don’t have enough to do,’ Tom said, ‘you’re looking for some sort of diversion?’

 ‘Nosir,’ Farry said, staring him straight in the eye. ‘My father wants me to learn something useful.’

 ‘Your father...’ Old Tom said, at a loss for words. Talk around the Smials was that the Thain had no time for his son, what with the cares of Tookland and the Shire on his shoulders. Was this a ploy to get the lad out of his hair and occupied with something other than mischief? Was Thain Peregrin making the head of the stables a child-minder? The Thain didn’t have the energy to watch over the lad himself, it seemed. Tom had heard that the healers and the Thain’s wife had popped the hobbit into his bed following his coughing fit at the the bonfire the previous evening and threatened to keep him there a week or even a fortnight.

 ‘I told him I wanted work to do,’ Farry said, ‘and he told me to ask around the Smials.’

Tom nodded. It sounded like some sort of test, to see if this was a mere whim on Farry’s part. ‘And you’ve asked?’

Farry flushed. ‘I asked in the kitchens and the laundry and I asked the head gardener,’ he said. ‘None of them would take me on.’

Tom took his pipe from his mouth and examined it minutely before replacing it. ‘Well then,’ he muttered. He was about to make an excuse of his own when he thought of Ferdibrand, who’d taken the lad under his wing, risking his life for the lad on one occasion, though he was busy with a family of his own and the many responsibilities the Thain loaded on him. Tom had figured it just a part of his duties, but for the day Ferdi had been leaning against the fence, watching Farry at a riding lesson.

Tom had paused to watch as well. ‘He looks well,’ he’d said.

 ‘There’s some good stuff there,’ Ferdi had answered. ‘He’ll be a jewel amongst hobbits once the rough edges are polished off.’ Tom had looked at him in surprise, but the Thain’s special assistant had only laughed and slapped at his knee with his riding crop. ‘Standing here won’t get my own ponies any exercise,’ he’d said. ‘G’day to you, Tom.’

 ‘The pay is a copper penny for a full day’s work,’ he said now, surprising himself.

Farry nodded, looking uncomfortable. Thought too much of himself to take what any starting stable lad was paid, perhaps.

 ‘Well?’ Tom said.

 ‘I’m sorry,’ the lad answered, shuffling his feet before standing straight again. ‘I cannot work a full day, for my father would have me study with the tutor from breakfast until nooning. Will you take me on for half-days?’

 ‘Half-days,’ Tom echoed.

 ‘I’m free from nooning until teatime,’ Farry said. ‘Four solid hours of work, and I would work hard, sir.’

 ‘Make it after nooning to teatime,’ Tom said, ‘for I’d not want you to miss the noontide meal. A hungry worker has his mind on his stomach and not on his work.’

 ‘Sir?’ Farry said, hardly believing that Tom was giving him a chance.

 ‘Ha’penny for half a day’s work,’ Tom said, ‘if you come back after teatime to finish.’ The Thain never worked past teatime, but then he didn’t have stalls to clean, tack to polish, and ponies to exercise. He half expected the lad to turn away, but instead Farry thrust out his small hand. Tom was surprised to find it hard and firm, with developing calluses as if the lad had already been putting it to good use for some days.

 ‘Done,’ Farry said. ‘You won’t regret it.’

 ‘You start tomorrow, first thing after noontide,’ was all Tom said. The lad reminded him of someone, a young Pippin, perhaps, or Ferdi, who always did what he set his mind to. Somehow Tom thought the lad was right. He wouldn’t regret it.

Chapter 35. Whispers

Two heavily-cloaked figures stepped lightly into the Spotted Duck, seeking a table in the darkest, least popular corner — the one farthest from the cheerful fire on the large central hearth, well away from the game of darts in progress.

 ‘Two mugs and a pitcher of your finest,’ one whispered from the depths of his hood. ‘There’s a good lass.’ A coin worth considerably more than a pitcher of the Duck’s finest appeared on the table. ‘And then leave us quite alone, if you please.’

 ‘Yes, sir,’ she said with a quick bob. Looking back with a puzzled expression, she saw that neither removed hood nor cloak though they sat deep in shadow. With a feeling of disquiet, she wondered if she ought to tell someone about the mysterious guests who looked to be up to no good.

As she placed well-filled pitcher and mugs on a tray, together with a few bowls and plates of nibbles — deep-fried sausage-wrapped eggs, pickled vegetables, slices of cold meats enfolding chunks of cheese, roasted nuts — for the mugs looked lonely there by themselves and the mysterious patron had paid generously, the innkeeper jerked his head towards the far corner. ‘Who’ve we got there?’ he asked.

 ‘Haven’t the faintest,’ she admitted with a shrug. ‘Someone as wants a private chat, it seems. They said bring them their order and leave them alone.’

 ‘Hmmm,’ the innkeeper said doubtfully. ‘I don’t like the sound of that. Perhaps someone ought to get word to the Thain…’ He glanced back at the shadowy figures that sat as if carven from stone. ‘Take their order to them, and then go and fetch young Grim. We’ll have him keep an eye on these fellows and follow them when they leave so as he can take a report to the Great Smials of their whereabouts.’

 ‘Good thinking,’ the serving lass said with a decisive nod. Grim was her younger brother, the most inquisitive hobbit of her acquaintance. What he couldn’t find out, when he set his mind to a problem, well... let’s just say that no secret could evade his determined investigation. The two shadows remained silent as she served them, only a nod from the one who’d whispered the order showing that they were alive and not turned to stone.

When she returned to the innkeeper to fill her tray for another order, he was staring openly. ‘They haven’t even touched their mugs yet,’ he said incredulously. As if aware of being under scrutiny, one picked up his mug, raising it in a toast to the other, and quaffed some of the brew, still wearing the muffling hood. The other followed the gesture, then took a handful of nuts from a bowl. The innkeeper relaxed subtly. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘I was beginning to think we were hosting a pair of wraiths, but they seem solid enough.’ He nodded to a table near the darts tournament. ‘They’ve been waving for a refill for some moments now.’

To all appearances the two in the corner were forgotten. The serving lass went out for a moment, and a little later a half-grown lad wandered in, sausage-roll in hand, and sat down by the door to watch the darts players. From where he sat he had an excellent view of the entire common room, and didn’t seem to mind the draught when the door opened to admit more guests.

 ‘How’s your head, Ferdi?’ said one of the shadows to the other.

 ‘It’s been worse,’ Ferdi said with a sip of his beer. ‘How about you? You’re not taking a chill sitting this far from the fire, are you, Pip?’

 ‘I don’t dare take a chill,’ Pippin answered. ‘Diamond would have my hide. I’m wrapped in enough layers to clothe an army of Tooks.’ He picked up his mug and put it down again, making a pattern of wet circles on the tabletop. ‘I believe if we’d sat close to the hearth I’d melt away completely.’

Ferdi shoved a bowl at him. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘As long as the food’s here you might as well eat.’ He took another handful of nuts from the bowl nearest him and nodded. ‘Perfectly roasted, lightly salted. Just the thing to complement the brew.’

Pippin ignored the food. ‘Are you leaving?’ he said abruptly.

 ‘I told you I wouldn’t,’ Ferdi answered.

 ‘Nell said —’ Pippin argued.

 ‘I may reverence the ground she walks on, but I’m not face-down in the dirt waiting for her to lead me around by the nose,’ Ferdi said. ‘I swore an oath you know, even if my wife didn’t.’

 ‘Tolly —’ Pippin began, only to be interrupted once more.

 ‘Tolly will stay,’ Ferdi said. ‘O, Sweetie will make his life miserable for a time, but he’d be miserable anyhow; he always is in the winter months. Come Spring he’ll cheer up again.’ The angle of the hood changed and Pippin imagined Ferdi’s stare. ‘Now eat,’ Ferdi added implacably.

 ‘I’m eating,’ Pippin said, picking up his own handful of nuts. ‘You’re right,’ he said in surprise. ‘They do complement the beer nicely.’ He heard a soft snort from his special assistant.

 ‘I’m always right,’ Ferdi said.

 ‘Except when you’re wrong,’ Pippin said equably. The hood opposite him nodded, and he envisioned Ferdi’s smile. He gave a snort of his own.

 ‘What is it?’ Ferdi asked.

 ‘Here we are, two of the most powerful hobbits in Tookland, hiding away,’ he said.

 ‘Where are you supposed to be?’ Ferdi reminded him.

 ‘I’m supposed to be in bed,’ Pippin said wryly. ‘That silly coughing fit at the bonfire—so a little smoke blew my way; that'll set even a hobbit with good lungs to coughing, wouldn't you say?’ Ferdi nodded silently as the Thain took a long swallow of his beer. Pippin added, ‘Not to mention Woodruff heard that we slept out in the open air the other night, mild as it is—it’s Winter, you know.’ 

 ‘I’d heard something to that effect,’ Ferdi admitted. Lowering his voice, he said, ‘Nell popped me into bed, said she wouldn’t let me up until I lost the lines about my eyes.’ He sipped again, and putting his mug down added, ‘Do I have lines about my eyes?’

Pippin peered at Ferdi’s shadowy face, barely distinguishable under its hood in the darkened corner. ‘Not that I can see,’ he said honestly.

 ‘She says I have lines about my eyes when my head pain gets bad,’ Ferdi grumbled. ‘Who wouldn’t, I ask you? With a wife nagging at me all the day to put my feet up and put my head back and close my eyes, it’s a wonder my head isn’t worse than it is!’

 ‘I know,’ Pippin said. ‘My wife does the same.’ He took another handful of nuts. Ferdi picked up the pitcher to refill both mugs. ‘So you’re staying then,’ the Thain added.

Ferdi put the pitcher down to place a reassuring hand on his cousin’s arm. ‘If you want to get rid of me you’ll have to discharge me,’ he said.

 ‘That means you’re staying,’ Pippin said, wanting confirmation.

 ‘You can be so thick sometimes,’ Ferdi grumbled. ‘It means I’m staying,’ he added.

 ‘Good,’ Pippin said. ‘Now drink up and let’s get back to the Smials before our wives finish their late suppers and come back to check our beds.’ Both drained their mugs and rose.

As they left the Duck the lad by the doorway ate the last of his sausage roll and threw on his cloak. ‘I’m going for a walk,’ he announced.

 ‘Be back in time to wash the mugs,’ the innkeeper snapped. The tween shrugged irritatingly and let himself out the door. Unnoticed by the two, he sauntered along behind them. They were heading in the direction of the Great Smials...

Some time later Grim returned to the Spotted Duck. ‘About time you got back here,’ the innkeeper grumbled. ‘You could have walked to the Great Smials and back in the time you were gone.’

 ‘I did,’ the tween said with another shrug.

 ‘And?’ the innkeeper whispered. No one was paying them any mind.

 ‘I don’t think we have to worry the Thain about those two,’ the lad said.