Chapter 11. Finders Keepers?

~ late nooning to teatime ~

Rather than walking the five miles from Bywater to the Three-Farthing Stone, Rudivar decided to ride Snowfoot so that he could go further and still be back in time to meet Ferdibrand for tea. He asked the proprietor to pack a bag of food for him to take on a picnic, and seeing that he was a tween, and Ferdi had left instructions that Rudi could order any food he wished, this service was provided without a second thought. 

And so Rudi left the inn well-equipped to deal with any hunger pangs that might come up on his part – or on the part of those he sought, for that matter. He’d eaten well at elevenses, and although he wasn’t quite hungry again by noon, he’d asked if he might eat his midday meal an hour early and not at one o’ the clock, for the proprietor of The Green Dragon kept to the custom of a late noontide meal for the inn’s general offering.

As soon as he’d polished off his generous bowl of meaty stew and the loaf of bread that had accompanied it, he thanked the serving lass and asked her to convey his warmest regards to the cook, stood up from his chair, and hefted the heavy bag of food appreciatively.

Of course, the three servers (for two more had come in to help serve the influx of customers expected for the late nooning) shook their heads after he walked out the door of the common room. Tweens! ‘Good appetite on that one,’ one whispered to the other.

‘I wonder how much he eats at home,’ the second responded.

‘P’rhaps he’s trying to grow as tall as his father!’ the first server said with a giggle.

‘Or as tall as the Thain!’ said the third, who’d identified the tween and his father as Tooks.

‘No one is as tall as the Thain.’

‘Lasses! Lad!’ The proprietor called them to attention, and they broke apart and scurried to begin serving the tables that were rapidly filling with local hobbits.

It took about an hour for Rudi to reach the Three-Farthing Stone, where he halted his pony to consider. ‘Third or fourth farm after the Stone,’ he said to himself, looking down the Road. ‘But we didn’t think to specify whether we were talking about farmsteads counting those on the northern side or on the southern side or counting all of them on both sides!’

He squinted at the angle of the Sun and calculated that since it would take him an hour to ride back to Bywater, he’d have two hours for his search. Two-and-a-half hours if they cantered all the way back. Dared he gallop back to the inn, considering the mild spring temperatures, without risking his da’s ire and a lecture on the proper treatment of ponies?

As he touched his heel to Snowfoot’s side to send her into a walk, he shook his head at himself. The extra minutes gained would not be worth arriving on a sweating or even lathered pony. ‘This is hardly the All-Shire Race!’ he muttered, echoing any number of adults, including the Thain, the Steward, the Stable Master, and his own da who were quick to rebuke heedless tweens. ‘No excuses!’ he added, and grinned at the imaginary critics. Not even if I’m trying to find the son of the Thain?

He stroked Snowfoot’s neck. ‘Let’s set a nice, steady pace, lass,’ he said, signalling for an easy walk. ‘We’ll just amble on down to the sixth farmstead on this side, and then we’ll work our way back to the Stone on the other side, keeping an eye on the time, of course!’

According to the Plan, if the little lad was able to persuade small Goldi to hide herself in a haystack whilst he “took a look about”, Farry would be looking out for Rudi from late nooning until teatime, just in case. He’d perch himself in an out-of-the-way location where he’d still be easily seen if he waved his arms.

If Rudy happened to find Farry, he’d leave the food he carried with the lad, who would pass it off as part of the supplies he’d brought with them. If he didn’t find Faramir, why, the tween would enjoy a fine picnic on his return to the Three-Farthing Stone, keeping in mind that the next checkpoint would be the inn at Frogmorton. 

Rudi wasn’t necessarily supposed to be looking for the travellers this day; it was only a contingency they’d built into the Plan. There was no guarantee that Farry would be watching out for him. However, since his da had released him to his own devices, taking a look at the farms immediately to the east of the Three-Farthing Stone seemed more interesting than sitting in the common room of The Green Dragon all day, no matter how good the food was. He chuckled aloud and patted the bag of food hanging from his saddle. Especially when I can bring a goodly portion of that excellent food with me!

According to the Plan, whether or not Rudi was able to supplement their supply of food, the travellers would set out for Frogmorton at sunset. They’d go to ground again at dawn in a haystack just outside Frogmorton and then, if all went as planned, they’d go to the inn at sunset to buy some loaves of bread, pretending it was for their family’s eventides, and Rudi and Ferdi would be waiting in a dark corner of the common room, watching for a signal from Faramir to swoop upon the children... or wait, should the lass prove exceptionally stubborn (and hadn’t her father, the Mayor, shown himself as such, travelling all the way to the Fiery Mountain and back?). If that were the case, the Plan allowed for them to try again at the inn in Budgeford.

Rudi hoped it wouldn’t come to that! He also knew the other conspirators were in complete agreement. Gorbi had the difficult task of keeping the Thain and Mistress from worry. Rudi wasn’t sure if the other tween’s part in the conspiracy were more or less difficult than that young Faramir had taken on... “helping” Goldilocks Gamgee run away to Gondor while not actually helping. If Rudi didn’t know the lad so well, he’d never have believed that a twelve-year-old (or very nearly so) could exercise the necessary judgement, understanding and tact.

In fact, in his estimation, young Faramir had the makings of an excellent Thain. If only his father should live long enough to pass the office on to the lad...

To be safe, as they ambled along, Rudi scrutinised each of the six farmsteads on the northern side of the Road in turn before turning the pony around. Only five of them had haystacks, indicating the presence of herd animals. He’d also noted in passing that five farmsteads lined the Road on the southern side, all of which had haystacks, though he’d allotted the majority of his attention to the northern landscape.

He turned the pony around towards Bywater again, checked the angle of the Sun, and thought he had enough time to walk all the way to the Three-Farthing Stone and then canter back to Bywater. If he got hungry, he’d just have to eat in the saddle, for as a result of his thorough approach, he was fairly certain he’d have no extra time for a picnic by the time he finished his self-appointed task.

And nothing to show for it, except for fresh air, sunshine, and a pleasant ride, at least if his luck remained the same as it had started out on this little excursion of his. He snorted at himself. He could think of worse things.

***

Even though meeting up with young Faramir was only a possibility, Rudi couldn’t help feeling discouraged as he passed the last farm on the south side of the Road before the Three-Farthing Stone. He’d carefully studied each farm in turn – the stacks, the trees, the bushes, even the ditch running alongside the Road, hoping against hope that a small lad would pop up suddenly as they passed, startling the pony, and call a cheerful greeting.

But there was no sign of young Faramir anywhere. In his perturbation, he absently dipped his hand into the bag and ate some of the food he carried, trying to reassure himself that it didn’t matter, that this was simply a contingency they’d planned on. He looked ahead to mark the location of the Three-Farthing Stone and then measured the angle of the Sun in the sky. Yes, he really ought to nudge the pony into her rocking-chair canter now and not wait until they reached the Stone. He’d taken too long in his searching, and it was looking all too likely that they’d have to gallop the five miles or so to Bywater – and even at that, he might come late to tea.

Despite the need to hurry, Rudi halted Snowfoot just beyond the last (or first, depending if one were coming or going) farm, though for the life of him, he couldn’t have explained why he’d felt an overwhelming impulse to do so. At first, he was keenly aware of the minutes ticking away but couldn’t bring himself to move or to urge the pony into motion. After several minutes of frozen consternation, his perturbation communicated itself to Snowfoot, and she danced under him and then half-reared in protest.

‘Steady, lass,’ he said, stroking the pony’s soft hide and soothing her until she quieted at last. Once he didn’t have to worry about the pony anymore, he listened for all he was worth as his eyes scanned his surroundings. The back of his neck prickled in warning. Something – he’d seen something but not seen it, he thought, remembering Ferdi’s lessons in hunting and tracking. And now he lost all sense of time passing as he concentrated fiercely now on the problem.

What had it been?

Where had it been?

He turned Snowfoot around and scrutinised the landscape on both sides of the Road, seeking for something out of place... And then he knew that the luck was with him, after all. Or so it seemed to him. Only time would tell.

A tween was just coming out of a byre. Her hair was bound up in a bright kerchief that had briefly caught his eye in passing as she had gone into the byre sometime earlier, just as Snowfoot and Rudi had been passing, with a basket on her arm.

Why would she be carrying a basket? It was the wrong time of day for egg-gathering, as far as he knew. Moreover, byres typically housed larger animals, such as goats or the small shaggy cows found in the Shire whose heifers were kept for milk and hair that could be spun into yarn, while steers provided high-quality meat. Furthermore, he could plainly see goats grazing in the field beyond the farmyard.

Granted, she might be carrying medicine for a sick beast out to the byre, but something told Rudi that this was not the case. He might well be spinning whole cloth from spiderwebs, but... there was that prickling at the back of his neck. He knew from past experience that he must not ignore the feeling but would be well-served to explore the reasons for it.

He turned Snowfoot’s head towards the farm and jogged her slowly towards the lass. ‘Hi!’ he called, raising his hand in greeting.

Half-way between the byre and the smial, she stopped, bobbing a courtesy at him as he rode up to her. ‘Can I help you with something, young sir?’ she said, her voice low and pleasant, and though she sounded like a farm lass, as he would have expected from her looks, her manner did not quite ring true to him, feeling like another puzzle for him to solve. He scrutinised her face in search of the answer. Her eyes were wide, and he thought he caught a wary look before she distracted him with a bright smile. ‘Are ye lost, somehow?’ 

‘Good day to you, miss,’ Rudi answered. ‘I was wondering...’

‘The Three-Farthing Stone is just a little farther along the Road,’ she said, pointing with her free hand. ‘In case you were wondering.’

‘I’m not lost,’ Rudi said, ‘though I thank you for your courtesy. But I am looking for someone who might be.’

Her air of puzzlement was not quite convincing. ‘Someone who might be?’ And then she brightened. ‘Perhaps you are seeking a cool drink of water for your pony or yourself?’ He had the distinct impression that she was trying to distract him. From what? he wondered.

Rudy felt one side of his mouth twist in a wry grin. ‘You’re not as dull of wit as you’d like me to believe, lass,’ he said, and then watched the play of emotions across her face. Irritation, he thought. Aggravation, shading into thoughtfulness, and finally curiosity.

‘Who are you?’ she demanded.

He bowed in the saddle. ‘Rudivar Bolger, at your service,’ he said.

She did not offer her name or her service (or her family’s service, for that matter) but simply tilted her head to one side. ‘I thought you were a Took,’ she said, surprising him.

‘I’m that, too,’ he replied, tipping his cap to her.

She dropped the appearance and talk of a farm lass, standing straighter, somehow, and speaking in the kind of cultured tones heard in one of the Great Holes. ‘You are a Took, are you? And are you perhaps looking for a lost Took relation?’

‘As a matter of fact,’ he answered, ‘I was to meet my cousin along this stretch of the Road at just about this time of day, if not a little earlier. I must admit, I was expecting to find him earlier...’ He lifted the bag attached to his saddle. ‘I was to bring him a fresh supply of food...’ ...although he was hoping I might do so secretly so that the little lass didn’t twig to the fact that we’re conspirators of sorts. But that seemed too complicated a topic to discuss at first acquaintance.

‘But I just...’ she began, looking down at her basket, and then she stopped and looked to him once more.

‘You just brought them a meal?’ Rudi said. ‘You’re helping them?’

‘Them?’ she said, suddenly wary again.

‘Yes,’ Rudi said. ‘A lass and a lad... children, really. I’m watching out for them.’

Despite the impediment the basket offered, she put her hands on her hips and regarded him severely. ‘You call this watching out for them?’ she said. ‘I’d like to know what neglect looks like, in your case!’

Suspicions confirmed, Rudi dismounted. ‘If you’ll excuse me, miss...’ he said, moving towards the byre.

‘I will not!’ she said, shifting to stand in his way.

A thin, cracked voice sounded behind him. ‘Is there some sort of problem, Laurel?’

Rudi turned to see a very elderly gammer standing behind him, holding a rolling pin like a weapon of sorts. Her stern look belied the many laugh lines that graced her countenance. ‘I hope a nice young fella like you isn’t thinking o’ bothering my lass!’ She tossed her head, ruffling her silvery curls.

Rudi lifted his hands in a placating manner. ‘I wouldn’t think of it!’ he answered. ‘I just—’

‘All is well, Auntie!’ Laurel interrupted.

‘If this is about those children i’ the byre,’ the old lady said. Both tweens goggled at her.

Rudi was speechless, but the lass – Laurel? The name was as graceful as its owner, he was thinking – sputtered, ‘How ever did you know, Auntie?’

The gammer’s fierce look dissolved into a laugh, and she wagged the rolling pin at both tweens. ‘I know how much there is i’ the pantry – and how much there isn’t! And I’ve seen how much you’ve eaten, the last fortnight, and how much you haven’t! And so I peeped into the byre after you’d taken a basket of nuncheon out t’ the yard with you, and I saw them!’

‘But Auntie!’ the lass said. ‘I hope you didn’t frighten them away!’

The old lady snorted gently. ‘With that ankle?’ she said. ‘I watched you splint it, though none of you saw me peeping ’round the corner of the doorway, and then you wrapped it up – I can only think that the ice you chipped off’n a block i’ the ice cellar is doing some good there... And you had your back to me, any road, and so you didn’t see me.’

But Rudi broke in. ‘Ankle?’ he said anxiously, his heart in his throat. ‘They’re hurt?’

‘Just the lad,’ “Auntie” said, sending Rudi’s heart plummeting to his toes. What would the Thain do to him? And Gorbi?

But the old lady was still speaking. ‘And they didn’t see me either, for I watched them both fall asleep pretty quick after they’d et that good meal you took out t’ them... And then when I saw you packin’ up the basket again with the used dishes and all, I thought I had better check the washing to see if any of it might be dry already in this nice breeze we’ve had today.’ She eyed the lass. ‘And just what were you planning t’ do with them, I’d like t’ know?’

‘I was going to wait for Uncle Bertie to come and ask him what to do,’ Laurel said in a small voice. ‘He told me to be a help and not a bother to you, and that a shock would not be good for your... for your heart, and so I was afraid that telling you about it would be too much of a bother.’

The old lady snorted more vigorously at this. ‘Nonsense!’ she said. She fixed her faded eyes on Rudi. ‘And you’ve come lookin’ for them, I warrant?’

‘I did. I mean, I have,’ Rudi said humbly. And then he remembered his manners and snatched his cap off his head. He bowed. ‘Rudivar Bolger, at your service.’

‘Well that’s all fine and good,’ “Auntie” said. ‘But what about those little ones?’

‘I—’ Rudi said. He swallowed hard and began again. ‘It was a game,’ he said. ‘They were playing a game, and I was to find them, and...’

‘Come into the smial,’ the old lady said abruptly. ‘I dunno about you, but I think better o’er a pot o’ tea.’

***