Chapter 6. Blind Faith

A numbing nightmare that seemed to go on forever: Ferdi pulled his cloak more closely about himself and Pimpernel who rode before him on his saddle. Her pony had stumbled and gone down in the worsening storm, unable to continue, and Ferdi had taken Nell onto his own mount. Though they shared their warmth thus, both were shivering, and their teeth chattered too much for conversation.

Although Ferdi had released his sleeve to grab at Nell, Merry didn’t ride into the storm in search of Pippin, for it was much too late. Winds howled from every direction, one moment blowing stinging snow into their faces, the next pushing at their backs as if to urge them in the way they were going. It was all they could do to struggle along, ponies trudging with their heads bowed nearly to the ground, for to stop would be to flounder in the deepening snow, to freeze and die.

Stop they did, however, and suddenly. Ferdi squeezed his legs on the pony’s sides to urge him forward, but the beast stood fast. Merry slid from his saddle to move to his pony’s head. With difficulty he made out the lines of a fence before them. His heart leapt; the Rohirrim used fences only near their dwellings! Shelter lay nearby! He groped his way along the side of Ferdi’s pony, screaming the news at the huddled shape still mounted there.

The shape split itself and the half that was Ferdi slid down to land next to Merry. Together they led their ponies along the fence, coming at last to the side of a building, one of the sturdy huts built for the herdsmen who watched over the great horses of Rohan as they grazed the lush pastures surrounding Edoras.

Ferdi helped Pimpernel down and groped his way to the door, which yielded easily. They fell into relative quiet and gloom, the storm pounding and shaking the walls, yet the shelter stood firm against that assault. Ferdi pushed the door closed behind them with a great sigh. He helped his wife to her feet, urging her across to the hearth and its rug of shaggy fur.

Though no one greeted them, there was a banked fire on the hearth, wood piled neatly at hand, and a bucket half-filled with water standing nearby. Merry had not yet come in. Undoubtedly he was leading the ponies to shelter of their own before coming in.

Ferdi laid Nell on the warm rug, stirred up the coals and quickly built up the fire into a cheerful blaze, then turned to undo Nell’s wrappings, pulling out her icy hands and chafing warmth into them, though his own were hardly better. When he could talk without chattering, he said encouragingly, ‘There, my love. That’s better.’

 ‘Where’s Merry?’ she managed, though shudders still shook her.

 ‘Taking care of the ponies,’ Ferdi said. ‘He ought to be in soon.’ She nodded convulsively. Ferdi pulled both their cloaks about her and turned his palms to the flames to warm them. He was feeling better by the moment, and soon he was able to rise from the furry rug. ‘I’ll see what’s what,’ he said, ‘and be back before you can say “Jack, Robin’s son!”.’

He prowled, finding a number of beds in two other rooms, though only one bed was made up with blankets. Only one herdsman in residence? Perhaps he was there to see the shelter through the winter months, for the horses would not be out in the fields this time of the year. At least, Ferdi hoped not, for their sakes. This weather was not fit for man nor beast. Winters in the South were milder? He’d not seen a storm like this, ever, in all his years in the Shire...

After exploring the sleeping rooms and storage room he returned to the main room again, which was warming nicely. ‘No one at home,’ he said cheerily.

 ‘Someone’s here,’ Pimpernel returned. ‘Who banked the fire?’

 ‘Well, he’s out and about in the storm,’ Ferdi said, ‘or perhaps Merry met him in the shed and the two are conversing while rubbing down the ponies and putting them to bed. These Rohirrim are mad for their horses, you know. They’d go hungry and without shelter before letting the same happen to their beasts.’

He stretched, looking about the firelit room. ‘Now, we’ve never known ill from the Rohirrim, but I still want you to hide yourself when we hear the owner returning, just until we know what manner of Man he is.’

 ‘You and your ruffians!’ Pimpernel said in exasperation.

 ‘My ruffians?’ Ferdi said quizzically.

 ‘To you every Man is a ruffian, no matter how fair he speaks or how nobly he treats you,’ she said.

 ‘Of course,’ Ferdi said.

 ‘Even the King?’ Pimpernel asked, hands on hips.

 ‘Especially the King,’ Ferdi said. ‘Why, you should see him on a hunting trip, with no wife around to civilise him, when he’s gone without bathing for days on end and his hair and beard are scruffy and tangled with dried leaves, and...’

 ‘I don’t believe you!’ Nell laughed, and Ferdi joined her.

Sobering again, he said, ‘But I want you to obey me in this, Nell, my own, if only for my own peace of mind.’

 ‘If only for your own peace of mind,’ Pimpernel answered softly. She sighed, staring into the flames, and Ferdi knew what she was thinking.

 ‘I’ll go out to see about Merry, now that I see you’re thawing nicely,’ he said, hesitating before he added, ‘I’m sure Pip’s all right. He has the luck of the Tooks, you know.’

 ‘I know,’ she said. ‘That’s what worries me.’

***

Arwen had to shout above the howl of the wind. ‘Blizzard!’ she cried in her husband’s ear. ‘We must make for Edoras! It is death to stay here!’

Elessar looked at her helplessly. His lips formed the word How? ...and he did not have to shout for her to read his doubt. You couldn’t see your hand in front of your face out there.

She smiled, touching a hand to his cheek. You forget, Estel, she answered, and suddenly her eyes were full of ageless wisdom and he no longer knew her.

He nodded slowly, and she knew he understood. He shouted so that the others in the coach could hear him, ‘Hold fast! We’ll be moving on to Edoras!’ Wondering eyes met his and he smiled, projecting a reassurance that he did not feel.

 ‘Bundle up,’ Arwen said, just loud enough for him to hear her, and he laughed at the absurdity of it, for she wore the same look as years ago, when she'd send young Eldarion out to play in the courtyard on a breezy day. He muffled his cloak securely around himself, pulled on his gloves for the little protection they’d give him in the rapidly dropping temperatures, and nodded.

Arwen’s smile brightened briefly, then with a nod of her own she opened the door to the coach just wide enough to slip out, thrusting a hand back to her husband. She latched the door securely behind them and then began to walk as if she were out for a stroll in the hidden valley of Imladris.

Elessar followed blindly; Arwen was a dark shadow before him. He remembered Legolas on Caradhras, walking lightly over the snow in thin soles, not seeming to feel the cold. They came to a huddled mass of guardsmen, their faces blank with shock and bleaching white from cold.

Elessar shouted orders: hitch the coach horses, check the gear on the others, prepare to depart. They’d use the picket lines and the ropes stored under the coaches for emergency use to link riders together in two lines flanking the line of coaches. The Captain nodded, used to following orders. His doubt faded with his renewed confidence in his King. Of course Elessar would lead them out of this.

With Arwen’s guidance he was able to oversee the muster, and at last all was ready. He floundered after his wife to the head of the caravan, where the Captain and a grizzled sergeant waited at the head of the two lines of mounted guardsmen. They handed the ends of the guide ropes to the King. King and Queen mounted their waiting horses, brushing as much blowing snow from their saddles as possible before settling. Arwen took Elessar’s hand in hers once more. He did not hear her speak to her horse, but suddenly they were moving, stepping into the whiteout. He heard the Captain raise his horn behind them, heard but faintly the call that set the vehicles in motion. They would reach Edoras, or die trying. It was death to stay, in any event.

A part of his mind was with the hobbits. Where were they now? Had they found shelter, somehow, or were they even now freezing, dying? He thought he saw Arwen’s head turn towards him but was only sure of the squeeze of her fingers. The ropes pulled taut behind him, then loosened. They were on their way.