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Flames  by Lindelea

Ferdi was in the Thain's study, listening to Everard answer Pippin's questions about the black powder, when two lads burst through the door without knocking. 

Before any could reprimand them, they both burst out with "Fire!"

The Thain was on his feet in an instant. 'Where?' he snapped. From the lads' panic it must be bad.

'Tookbank Farm,' the farm lad gasped. 'In the bottomland just by Tookbank. My da and my brothers are fighting it but 'tis too big and spreading fast. We've roused the hobbits of Tookbank but we need more.'

'Which way is the wind blowing?' the Thain demanded sharply.

The farm lad took a deep breath. 'Towards Tookburough,' he said, dread in his eyes. 'I rode as fast as the pony would go... Da said if the afternoon winds kick up it'll roar right over the hills to the Smials.' The Great Smials itself would not be much affected, but the wood and stone structures of Tookburough with their roofs of thatch would be devastated, hundreds of hobbits left homeless.

'How many farmsteads between Tookbank and here?' Pippin asked.

'Three,' the Steward answered.

'The farmers are out plowing firebreaks around their buildings,' the lad said, 'but the fire will come across the bottoms; it was crowning in the treetops when I left, and sparks were blowing into the fields.'

'Everard?' the Thain said. Though the steward's brother was now an engineer, no longer a farmer, he knew the farms around Tookland like the fur on his feet.

'It'll come across the fields and the bottoms; we'll have to have a wide line to stop it. Plowing firebreaks should go quickly enough, but in the trees... clearing underbrush takes time...'

'We don't have time,' Reginard said. 'If the winds kick up...'

'They will, in a matter of hours,' the Thain said.

'Black powder,' Everard broke in. The others looked at him, dumbfounded. 'It burns fast and hot,' he said, his words spilling out faster in his excitement. 'We can use it to set backfires, burn out the brush in the bottoms before the fire gets here, fell the trees in the firebreak, away from the fire, rake the ground bare. Deny it the fuel and you'll stop it.'

The Thain and Steward went to the map on the wall, though they knew the country intimately. 'Where?' Pippin said.

Everard moved to his side. 'If it's too close to the head of the fire, flames will jump the break before it's finished,' he said.

'Where, then?' Pippin said. His experience with brush fires was wielding a pick or shovel under someone else's direction.

Everard hesitated, then placed a finger on Tuckborough, moved slowly back towards Tookbank, not far enough, really, and stopped.

'That close?' the Thain gasped.

The last ridge before the Smials. If the fire jumped the break, there would be no more chances; the flames would race up the great hill and over and into Tuckborough faster than any pony could run.

The Thain gave quick orders. 'Ferdi, take all the plows and teams you can gather to the ridge, start plowing the firebreak. Have crews ready to set backfires as soon as you have a wide enough strip. Take a horn with you, blow it when you see the fire approaching, to give warning to the crews in the woods.'

'Right,' Ferdi said, and was off. He ran to the stables, shouting for Old Tom.

'What is it, lad? Slow yourself down a bit, you'll live longer,' the old hobbit said, coming out of a stall, grooming cloth in hand.

'Not necessarily,' Ferdi panted. He rapidly outlined the potential for disaster, the old hobbit nodding, the grin on his face wiped away.

An increasing crowd of stable hobbits gathered round, listening, consternation and horror spread over their faces.

'I know you sharpened and oiled the plows before you stored them, ready for autumn plowing,' Ferdi said. 'Throw all you have into waggons, hitch up teams and start them on to the last hill before the Smials. How many teams do you have out in the fields?'

'None, at the moment,' Old Tom said. 'We've finished the winter barley harvest, and hadn't yet started the wheat... last I heard they wanted to give it a bit more time, though with the dry weather it hardly matters, it's not going to grow any more, to my way of thinking.'

'Then send out as many teams as you have plows, and a couple of spares,' Ferdi said. 'There'll be a call for ponies that can pack barrels, as well, so get your lads started harnessing.'

'Aye,' Old Tom said. 'You heard 'im, lads. Get to work!' The stable lads scattered, some to start harnessing, others pulling out waggons, still others carrying the plows out to the yard to be loaded.

The farm lad who'd brought the warning burst into the stables with the Thain's orders that the thatch be wetted down with buckets of water, and not long after, Reginard stopped in on his way to Tuckborough to roust out the inhabitants, sending them to the relative safety of the Smials, to tell Old Tom to organise the animals. The best of the stock were to be brought into the Great Smials proper, into the great room, and the others set free to run before the flames.

'Better than to have the barns burn down about their heads,' the old hobbit muttered, and Regi nodded.

'That was the Thain's thought as well,' he said, and was gone.

By the time Everard had gathered the other engineers, the ponies that would pack the barrels of black powder into the woods were ready and awaiting them in the yard. Each engineer leapt astride a pony, picked up another's lead rein, and kicked the animals into a fast trot towards the storage tunnel.

Ferdi was helping saddle ponies for the crews going to the woods when the Thain himself entered, Tolly on his heels. 'Is Socks ready to go?' he asked.

'Socks?' Ferdi said, stupidly. 'You're going out?' His first thought was that he hadn't time to arrange the escort, what with the waggons nearly ready to head out to the Hill.

'Of course I am,' Pippin said, and Ferdi nodded. Of course. He'd be going to the top of the Smials, probably, to watch the progress of the firebreaks. 'You go on to the Hill, now; Tolly can come with me.' He opened the door to Socks' stall, while Ferdi grabbed at the saddle. As soon as saddle and bridle were in place, the Thain mounted, there inside the stables, and looked about at the bustling hobbits, momentarily stilled in their labours.

'We can beat this,' he said with a jerk of his chin, reined the pony around and was out the door, Tolly right behind him.

Old Tom had Penny saddled, and Ferdi grabbed a horn, kept for the quick post rider, from the nail on the stable wall. 'Keep saddling,' Ferdi said. 'They'll be sending every free hand to the firebreaks, and the faster they can get there the better for us.'

Reaction hit him suddenly... he was going out... to face a fire, bigger by a thousand-fold than the one that haunted his memory, and he staggered.

'Are ye all right, lad?' Old Tom asked, concern deepening the creases in his face.

Ferdi stood frozen, fighting panic, breathing shallowly. Suddenly, he spun away to lose the contents of his stomach in a corner of Penny's stall. Straightening up again, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and when he met the old stable hobbit's eyes, he found no condemnation there, only understanding.

'Go with grace, Ferdi,' was all Old Tom said. Ferdi nodded and mounted. He felt steadier, now, better, somehow, and ready to face the monster eating its way across the countryside towards his home.

'Set Dapple loose now,' he said. 'Give her a chance to outrun the flames.'

'She's going into the Smials, being one of the faster ponies in Tookland,' Old Tom answered. 'She'll be all right.'

Ferdi nodded, swallowing down a lump of relief, and kicked Penny into a ground-eating pace, past the line of teams and waggons clattering out of the yard before the Smials, out to the Hill, towards the fire.

He could see the black smoke rising to the sky even before he crested the Hill, though he could not see the line of the fire itself, hidden behind other hills between him and the plain.

Looking behind, he saw the waggons toiling up the hillside, stopping to drop plows at intervals, while hobbits jumped to hitch up teams and begin to cut the firebreaks. The waggons came all the way to the top and then down the other side, and Ferdi was encouraged as he watched the firebreak grow... until he saw the fire mount the far crest of one of the hills in the distance; a wall of flame licking to the sky before it began to eat its way down the hill, to disappear behind a nearer crest.

Ferdi knew that when the fire reached the crest of the next hill over from them, and no later, he must order the backfire set. The fire would crawl down the slope into the trough between the hillcrests, then race up the other side--to them!--faster than a pony could run.

He sat tensely on Penny's back, watching. His crews were making progress; the firebreak had been plowed from the edge of the woods, up over the Hill, and down to the stream that ran into Tuckborough on the other side, and now they were busy making the strip of turned-up sod ever wider.

Ferdi looked back to the top of the hill containing the Great Smials, to see a watching figure. Ah, Pip had reached the top, then. He was as safe there as anywhere, Ferdi figured. If they didn't stop the fire, nobody would be safe. He thought of the thatched roofs of Tuckborough and shuddered. Good thing Pippin had thought to send the people to the relative safety of the Great Smials.

Ferdi thought, also, of Hally and Rosemary, halfway home to Woody End by now, probably getting ready to pull into the yard at the Cockerel for a nice overnight rest before continuing the next day the rest of the way home. If Ferdi's crews didn't stop the fire, here and now, it could race all the way to the Brandywine, burning everything, and everyone, in its path... his sister's family included.

The gently teasing breeze paused a moment, as if for a breath, and then picked up, puffs of wind becoming a steady blow. Ferdi saw the smoke billowing behind the nearest hill, and then suddenly the hill was crowned with flames. He lifted the horn to his lips and blew as hard as he could. 'Set the backfire!' he shouted. 'Set it now! We're out of time!'

He seized a torch from a nearby hobbit, kneed Penny to the edge of the plowed ground, and threw the torch over. 'Beat out any flames that cross,' he shouted, as other hobbits ran across the soft ground to dip their torches, setting the grass and gorse alight on the far side.

Now to warn the crews in the woods; the fire would be moving faster over the field than through the trees, but they were running out of time down there as well. He lifted the horn to his lips again and blew a great blast, then kicked Penny into a run down the hill, towards the woods.

***

When Ferdi reached the workers in the trees, he was dumbfounded to see the Thain in the thick of it, instead of atop the Great Smials as he had thought. Who'd been there? Regi? There was no time to wonder. He pulled Penny to a stop, jumping down to gasp, 'Fire's coming fast! Got to get the workers out if you're not ready.'

'We're nearly ready,' Pippin returned, his gaze sweeping from one end of the fireline to the other. Ferdi watched foresters continuing to fell trees even as the engineers laid fuses of greased candlewicking to a line of black powder that crossed the woods between them and the fire.

The roar of the approaching flames mingled with the screams of memory, and Ferdi looked up in surprise at a hand on his arm. He realised he'd been inching backwards, back towards the pony, away from the fire. He looked up into Pippin's grim face.

'Stand, Ferdi,' Pippin said, just loud enough for him to hear over the cries of the sweating hobbits, the sounds of axes and saws, mattocks and shovels, and the voice of the fire, not yet in sight, though tendrils of smoke had begun to blow over them.

Ferdi was breathing shallowly, on the edge of panic, but the Thain's grip tightened on his arm. 'Stand fast,' Pippin repeated.

Ferdi noted that the Thain's own breath was coming fast and shallow, but not from fear. His face was calm and set. Another wisp of smoke blew by them, and Pippin's grip on Ferdi's arm loosened as he fought off a coughing fit. Suddenly Ferdi was not so afraid of the flames as he was concerned about his cousin.

'We've got to get you out of this smoke,' he said worriedly.

'Got to see if the fire break holds off the fire,' Pippin gasped, then took a pull at his water bottle. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he cleared his throat and shouted, 'Aldi!' They watched the chief engineer and his helpers scurry like ants.

Turning back to Ferdibrand, Pippin said again, 'Stand fast, Ferdi. There's worse things than dying.'

'What?' Ferdi said, feeling as if he were in a dream. One did not have philosophical discussions with a wildfire bearing down.

'Living, chained by fear,' Pippin answered. He turned Ferdi squarely towards the fire line. 'Look fear in the face, Ferdi, don't let it make you run. Death's not so bad, I can tell you. We're old friends... been lots of places together...'

Ferdi looked back to Pippin, worry growing. His cousin wasn't making sense.

The chief engineer waved, and raised his horn. At the blast, the workers retreated to a safe distance as they'd been instructed before the work started. Hobbits with tapers ran forward to light the fuses.

'Stand fast, Ferdi,' Pippin said once more.

'I'm standing, cousin,' Ferdibrand answered. 'Tooks aren't going to see me run this time.'

The hobbits watched in suspense as the flames raced along the candlewicking to the line of powder, then with an enormous whoosh the powder went up in blistering heat and flame and billows of white smoke which enveloped the watchers and rose to the skies.

As the smoke cleared, a cheer went up from the watching hobbits to see the blackened ruin left behind. 'Rake it all out!' Everard shouted. 'Down to bare earth!'

Ferdibrand felt a clutch at his arm and turned to Pippin. The Thain had his other fist pressed to his chest, his face was white, eyes staring, mouth open in desperate effort to breathe. More smoke was blowing towards them from the fire, and Ferdi felt his own throat closing in protest. He caught the staggering Thain, threw him across the pony's back, mounted, and kicked the pony into a run, away from the smoke, in search of clearer air.

Penny stretched out into her fastest pace, seemingly unhampered by her double burden, glad to be running away from the fearful fire, Ferdi thought. He'd be glad, himself, if he weren't so worried about Pippin, now a limp weight on the pony's neck before him.

Branches whipped past them, and several times Ferdi barely ducked in time. The wind was rising to a gale behind them, but he thought they had the fire beat, now. They were nearly to the Smials when a wave of heat and smoke rolled over them, and there was no more air in the world to breathe...

Penny staggered, her nostrils flaring in search for air, and Ferdi's own mouth gaped as his lungs protested the smoke they were taking in. They rode into the yard upon wings of smoke. Pulling Penny to a stop before the entrance, Ferdi slid from her back, then pulled Pippin down, to bear him in search of help. ...but his legs would not hold him; traitorous limbs, they folded beneath him, casting him to the ground with his burden. He pulled his cousin into his lap, bending over him, but it was too late, it had to be. If there was no air for him to breathe, with his good lungs, what hope was there for Pip?





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