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.