Chapter 8. Best-laid Plans

Perhaps an hour after the Sun had kicked off her bedcovers, the relatively slow pace Ferdibrand had set brought him and Rudivar into Bywater. The soft thudding of their ponies’ feet on the unpaved surface of the New Road changed to clopping on the cobblestoned street, jolting young Rudi out of a half-dream. But then, the tween wasn’t used to staying awake all night, as the conspirators’ plan had required.

‘Bywater,’ Ferdi said laconically. ‘We’re well in time for tea, I should say. Though... I think we’ll take breakfast instead.’

‘We might have walked just as fast,’ Rudi said with a sidelong glance at his da.

‘And reached Bywater weary and footsore,’ Ferdi replied, and patted Penny’s neck.

‘Not you!’ Rudi said with a laugh. ‘So I can only gather you’re worried on my account!’

‘Are we in a hurry?’ Ferdi asked. ‘I rather had the idea, from what little you’ve told me of the Plan, that we should be in place in the inn at Frogmorton by tomorrow evening, at the earliest...’

He turned his head and fixed Rudi with a keen look. ‘Do you honestly think those children can cover thirty-some miles... in only two days? I’m surprised we didn’t come upon them sleeping beside the Road halfway to Bywater... but Penny would’ve alerted me had she scented them in our passing.’

‘And that’s why we rode the ponies...!’ Rudi said in belated understanding.

‘Ponies have a keen sense of smell,’ Ferdi said. ‘Keener than ours, any road. And Penny knows young Faramir quite well. He brings her carrots or apples whenever he visits the stables. When he enters, even before he turns the corner, she’s already whickering and nodding her head to greet him.’

‘What if he has no apples or carrots with him now?’

Ferdi shook his head. ‘He’s got Penny so spoilt, I even saw her greet him when he’d forgot her treat. And do you know what the boy did?’

‘I’m sure you’re going to tell me, so...’

Ferdi laughed. ‘He went back to the kitchens and begged a handkerchief-full of sugar lumps from one of the apprentice cooks! ...all of which he fed to my Penny-lass!’

‘I can see why she looks out for him,’ Rudi agreed. And then he matched his da’s keen look. ‘But it wouldn’t do to catch them up so early in the journey.’

‘Wouldn’t it, now?’ Ferdi said. ‘Would you care to enlighten me as to why?’

Rudi drew a deep breath and hesitated.

‘Come now,’ Ferdi said. ‘You’re the only map I have on this journey. Surely you can tell me of some of the landmarks I’d be wise to recognise along the way!’

At last, obviously thinking his way through the words as he spoke, lest he might say too much, Rudi said, ‘If we catch them too soon, they won’t be tired enough.’

Ferdi considered, then nodded slowly. ‘I begin to understand, I think,’ he said. ‘It reminds me of the bargain I struck with young Farry the last time he ran away...’

‘He’s not running away!’ Rudi protested.

‘You might have fooled me,’ Ferdi said, and then he pointed. ‘Look, The Green Dragon’s just ahead. Since we don’t want to accidentally find our quarry too soon, let us stop for a leisurely as well as filling breakfast.’

‘I’ll drink to that!’ Rudi said with a grin.

‘So long as it’s tea you’re drinking,’ Ferdi said with a mock-scowl. ‘And where did you learn to say such a thing?’

‘That’s what the Thain said at the last bonfire after Tolly made a joke about sending all the hobbits of escort on a long holiday,’ Rudi answered.

‘All the escort,’ Ferdi echoed, and shook his head.

‘That’s what I just said.’

Ferdi nodded. ‘I can see how the Thain might appreciate such a happening.’ He glanced at his son. ‘Of course you know it’s never going to happen.’

‘O aye,’ Rudi said in his best imitation of a back-country Took. ‘But he can always hope...’

*** 

Faramir had set a steady pace through the hours of darkness, pausing only when Goldi complained and encouraging the lass with such cheery thoughts as, ‘How ever do you expect to walk all the way to Gondor if a little trek to Bywater is too much?’

It had still been dark when they passed through Bywater, and he hadn’t allowed Goldi to pause until the lights of The Green Dragon had faded behind them. It had been difficult to keep walking past the smells of bread baking and slow-roasting bacon in preparation for early breakfast, but Farry insisted. ‘If anyone sees us in the town, we’ll be in trouble.’

‘Aren’t we already in trouble?’ Goldi asked.

‘Very well,’ Farry said. ‘We’ll be in more trouble. For you know my da will be sending out searchers as soon as we’re missed!’

‘P’rhaps I ought to have run away on my own,’ Goldi said.

‘He’d’ve sent out searchers anyhow,’ Farry said. ‘And you don’t know the way.’

‘Do you?’ she challenged.

Farry nodded. ‘I’ve been studying maps with my da,’ he said. ‘We’ve traced the journeys of the Fellowship as part of my history studies. He says it’s important that hobbits know what was sacrificed for them. Someday, he says, he’ll be able to argue Uncle Merry around to where the whole story can be told... to Tooks and Tooklanders as well as all who live in the Outer Shire.’

‘We all know the story,’ Goldi said.

‘Your family?’ Farry said. ‘Well of course you do.’

‘My dad lived through much worse than the Master of Buckland, and he thinks the tale should be told far and wide – and often – if only to honour Mister Frodo and not let folk forget what he did!’

‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that,’ Farry said through his teeth.

‘Sure of what?’ Goldi snapped. ‘But of course the Tale should be told!’

‘I agree!’ Farry said.

‘You’re contradicting yourself,’ Goldi criticised.

‘Not at all,’ Farry countered. ‘Yes, I agree that the Tale should be told, in full, and often enough that folk don’t forget. But no,’ he said forcefully, ‘I disagree that Uncle Merry’s experience was any less horrible than Mayor Sam’s!’

Goldi spluttered.

At least Farry thought privately, the arguing is warming – and diverting! I’ve not thought of my feet in almost a mile, I should say! And Goldi seems to have forgot about complaining too. He filed away the thought for future reference.

‘They all experienced wonders and terrors,’ he said aloud, to keep the argument going. ‘Why, I’ve heard your own dad tell mine, when my da has made a joke of his contributions to the journey, that every one of them had his own row to hoe, and it would be unwise to try to draw comparisons...’

‘My dad walked in the Dark Lands,’ Goldi said hotly. ‘He fought Shelob! And he crawled on his hands and knees up the Fiery Mountain...’

‘Just as Uncle Merry crawled on his hands and knees behind the Witch-king,’ Farry said, almost too low for his companion to hear. His heart was wrung inside him with pity and dismay for his beloved cousin. ‘Three times he faced that horror... which was more than any of the others.’ 

‘Three times!’

Farry nodded, staring straight ahead. ‘The Witch-king almost took him in Bree, remember,’ he said. ‘They were lifting him up, to carry him off to a dreadful fate, when Nob startled them with his shout, and the brightness of his lantern made them fall back, just long enough for Nob to shake him. My da thinks...’

‘What does your da think?’ Goldi said in a more subdued tone.

‘He thinks that if Uncle Merry hadn’t jumped up and run back to the inn as fast as his legs would carry him, they’d’ve swooped in and grabbed him again. They only left Nob alone because he was a Bree-hobbit and not a Shire-hobbit, and so they knew he wasn’t the one they were looking for.’

He gulped down tears and added, ‘It was almost too much for him. My da thinks Strider healed him of the Black Breath in Bree, as the Travellers slept, and they all benefited from the athelas Strider brewed after the encounter on Weathertop, not just Frodo... but Uncle Merry was almost too far gone to save in Gondor, and it was his third time, the third time he was overcome by the Black Breath – which my da thinks made it worse, much worse, even now, than it is for himself or Mayor Sam...’

They walked a few moments in silence, and then Farry raised his arm to point. ‘Look!’ he said. ‘That’s the Three-Farthing Stone ahead!’

‘You said we’d need to find a hiding place by midday,’ Goldi said.

Farry nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We still need to walk for another hour or three. They would have discovered we were gone when everyone got up for breakfast,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how long it’ll take riders to reach us here...’

‘How would they know to look here?’ Goldi asked.

‘My da will send searchers in all directions, knowing him,’ Farry said. ‘So we need to go to ground by the time the Sun is at her highest, and hide until darkness falls. At least the nights are about as long as the days, this time of year.’ He looked back the way they’d come. ‘Let’s try to put a few more miles behind us before we stop.’

The New Road had followed a straight line, more or less, between Tuckborough and Bywater, making it difficult to lose their way, at least, and he was thankful for that mercy. The East Road that had led them out of Bywater also served as a reliable guide, which was one reason Farry had chosen their path to follow main roads despite the increased danger of discovery. He didn’t care to try their luck going cross-country again, as he had in his earlier endeavour. Not only would it be all too easy to lose their way in the Woody End, but the unsettled part of the wood away from the Stock Road offered a greater chance to encounter wild animals, such as foxes. Farry’d had quite enough of foxes already in his young life. 

No, but it was better – safer – to travel through settled country along a main road. The choice of route also fit the plan he’d formulated with Rudi and Gorbi. As they had discussed various options, the tweens had not found it hard to convince Faramir that it would be difficult enough to control the situation without throwing in accidental complications.

Perhaps thinking of complications and accidents was unwise...

Goldi hadn’t complained again of tiredness after Farry had chided her earlier. But Farry himself was tiring, and that may be why he was paying less attention than he ought. They’d moved onto the grassy verge by the Road to be out of the way of riders and waggons. Faramir was carrying a large basket, as was Goldi. Both had often seen children walking along the highways and byways with baskets. They might have been sent to a neighbour with a gift or the task of borrowing some simple commodity, like a cup of sugar. They might have been taking farm produce to the market or a shop or an inn (if they were close to a village). Alternatively, they might have been sent to fetch something.

There were any number of reasons for children to be out and about if they weren’t doing chores or playing in their own yards, and so the conspirators hoped that their passage would be unremarked.

Of course, Farry thought to himself, that only holds while we’re within the Shire, which is why we need to be found before we reach the Bridge! And I mean for Goldi to be fed up to her back teeth of walking by that time!

‘Let us quicken our steps,’ he said aloud, ‘and see how far we can get before noontide.’ With satisfaction, he noted Goldi’s sigh... but she didn’t complain.

He looked behind them periodically for riders, but all he saw were waggons, which was all to the good. ‘Be ready to slide down... into the ditch... if I should see a rider... on the Road behind us,’ he warned Goldi. She nodded, and he realised that the faster pace was also making her feel a bit winded.

And so, it was perhaps their taxing pace that was to blame for what followed, for Farry was tiring himself, pushing himself harder than he typically would, as a result of his effort to impress upon Goldi the tiresomeness of running away. In any event, he was walking closest to the ditch, in part to guard Goldi from a misstep, but he ought to have been guarding himself more carefully, as things turned out. As he turned to look behind them, his foot came down at the edge of the grass; he twisted and flailed to try to catch himself, but his ankle turned under him, and then his basket was flying up and he was sliding down with a surprised cry. He landed painfully at the bottom.

‘Farry!’ Goldi’s head was dark against the bright sky, whilst the helpful Sun, now almost directly above them, buffed her curls to brilliance.

‘I’m all right!’ he lied, sitting up at the bottom of the ditch. Thankfully there wasn’t much water left at the bottom from the recent rain, but it was cold, and muddy.

‘How will you get out?’

‘It’s not all that deep – only to my shoulders once I stand up, I should think,’ he answered.

‘Then stand up!’ she ordered.

Easier said than done, the way his blasted ankle was twinging.

He relished the feel of the forbidden word in his mouth. Blast.

‘What was that?’

‘Nothing!’ he called. ‘If you can hold one side of your basket handle and extend the other to me, I can use it to climb out. The sides look too slippery to get any kind of good grasp.’

He managed to stand up, though it hurt to do so. He must have done some damage to both ankles, the one that turned and the one he’d landed on in falling. Blast!

He couldn’t put any weight on his right foot; trying made the world tilt and obscured his vision with bright streaks of light. Balancing on his left leg sent shooting pains through that ankle, as well, but at least it didn’t make him feel as if he were about to faint.

He shoved down the curious thought that this was what his da experienced every day. It was no wonder he allowed his cousins to help him walk and even carry him on his bad days. Worse days, Farry thought, and for the first time it occurred to him that every day might be a bad day for his father. 

And he didn’t want to think about that, either. 

He wiped impatiently at his eyes with a muddy hand, which didn’t help matters much. And then he was suddenly face-to-face with Goldi, who’d prostrated herself on the verge, her eyes looking huge and frightened – of course, their noses were nearly touching.

‘Your basket,’ he said, gritting his teeth against the pain.

‘Are you hurt?’ she said.

‘Your basket, please,’ Farry repeated. ‘Just a little,’ he admitted, for the extent of his injuries would become obvious as soon as he was out of this ditch and trying to walk again.

Goldi nodded and laid her basket on its side. Farry grasped the basket handle on the low side, while she grasped the handle from the top. ‘I’m going to pull on “three”,’ she said, ‘so get ready to scramble up!’

‘It’s as easy as one – two – three!’ Farry muttered, quoting one of his da’s many stories from the Quest, as he sometimes called the Fellowship’s travels before Farry was born.

Either Goldi hadn’t heard, or she was also familiar with the story from hearing Pippin or Mayor Sam tell it, for all she said was, ‘Ready now! One! Two!’

Farry didn’t hear “Three” for she was pulling and he was scrambling despite the dreadful pain it cost him, which made him groan loud enough to drown out her shout.

But somehow it worked, because the next thing he knew, he was panting on the verge, face-down in the grass, still clutching the basket handle, and Goldi was bending over him. ‘Farry?’

‘You’re stronger than you look,’ he said without thinking, and then he winced, for surely she’d be furious with him...

But, fortuitously, she took a completely different meaning for the wince. ‘Does it hurt so awfully?’ she whispered. ‘Where is it hurting you?’

‘My ankles,’ he admitted.

‘Both?’ she said, sitting back on her heels in dismay.

‘I think I can walk on one of them,’ Farry said, ‘if you don’t mind helping me hop along.’ He somehow managed to roll to a sitting position; it might have had something to do with the fact that Goldi was helping him quite a bit. To cover his disgust with himself (Fool of a Took! To fall into a ditch that anyone could plainly see!), he added, ‘Well, we were going to stop and rest and hide until nightfall, any road, so now is as good a time as any.’

‘Where?’ Goldi said. Her voice was quavering a little, Farry noticed, but he said nothing about that.

Instead, he pointed. ‘I’d thought to stop at the third or fourth farm past the Three-Farthing Stone, but we had better settle for the closest farm, instead.’

What he wouldn’t give for Uncle Ferdi and Cousin Rudi to ride up, then and there, and “discover” the fugitives!

They had left Tuckborough at about eight o’ the clock last night, a carefully calculated time of departure. Parents or minders at the Great Smials tucked their charges up in their beds just after eventides were finished, told a bedtime story, waited through the inevitable requests for glasses of water and other essentials that small children think of when fighting off sleep, and finally took themselves off when the little ones dropped off.

Farry knew from making his own study of the matter that a parent or minder (or even a hobbit-servant, such as Sandy) almost always returned half an hour later to check on the sleepers. He’d counted the quarter hours by the chimes of the dwarf-made clock in the sitting room whose sweet tones could be clearly heard all the way from the large sitting room to his bedroom when night-silence had descended on the Thain’s apartments.

He'd shared his knowledge with Goldi yesterday while making his own preparations. As a result, they had food for two or three days of travel if they were careful, and his cousin Rudi ought to be, even now, informing Uncle Ferdibrand of his plans.

Unless they discovered us missing earlier, he fretted. The problem with any plan that involved others was that one could not know if something happened that would require changing the plan.

‘Well something has happened to change the plan,’ he muttered to himself.

Of course, since he was leaning on Goldi’s shoulder and she was helping him hobble along, she heard. ‘What plan?’ she demanded. ‘What change?’

‘Haystacks!’ Farry said, pointing again. ‘We can burrow into one of them and hide for a bit. I think if I can rest my ankle, we ought to be able to go on when darkness falls.’

‘What about food?’

‘We have enough to take us to Frogmorton,’ Farry reassured. ‘There’s an inn there where we can buy a loaf of bread. I brought coins with me.’

‘Coins!’

‘You don’t think we could travel that far with a small sack of food and no money, I hope!’ Farry retorted.

Uncle Ferdi would reach Frogmorton before they did, of course, but perhaps that could work to everyone’s advantage. Ferdi could wait for them at the inn, and he’d be sure to see them when they entered the common room.

***