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Runaway  by Lindelea

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.'





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