Chapter 27. By Some Curious Chance

'I find walking with a lightened pack both comfortable and alarming,' Ferdibrand confided in Haldoron as they left the trail that had returned them to the East-West Road, where they turned their faces eastwards and continued along the Road. A few more hours of walking would bring them to another outpost of Kingsmen, tasked to carry the King's messages. In this part of the Northern Kingdom, Elessar's guardsmen relayed messages going to or coming from the King or Steward in Gondor or New Annúminas. The outposts along this stretch of the Road covered a large area that began in Bree and reached as far as the Angle and Rivendell.

At hearing the rapid beat of hoofs behind them, the Walkers moved to the side of the Road and waited. The young hobbits never tired of jumping up and down while waving wildly as a Messenger and his galloping mount raced past them. Even better was when the Messenger raised his hand in acknowledgement as he rode by.

'Hurrah!' Pip-lad shouted, throwing his cap in the air after the Messenger passed. 'He waved! He waved at us!'

Young Faramir, too, was laughing and shouting in glee.

Ferdi shook his head. 'It's a far cry from jumping in a ditch or hiding behind a tree to escape all notice...'

'Hardly authentic,' Haldoron agreed. 'But let the youngsters have their fun while they may. We still have some miles to go before their next meal, for they ate up all that we were still carrying not all that long after we finished that hearty meal in the shade of the stone trolls.'

'I'm afraid that Pip-lad's rendition of the good Mayor's song about the troll gnawing on a bone made them hungry again,' Ferdi said, though he shuddered. 'Frankly, I don't find the thought of an old bone at all appetising, trolls or no trolls.'

'The mere thought of eating is enough to set them off,' the Man replied. 'Or so I've noticed.' He chuckled. 'Why, even talk of not eating – for whatever reason, such as "it's not the right season for mushrooms" – makes them think about eating!'

'You have a point,' Ferdi said. 'To be honest, it's my understanding that teens and tweens are always thinking about eating, whether they're talking about it or not.'

'So it seems,' Haldoron agreed. But then the Ranger's head jerked up as the Man halted, froze in place, and scrutinised the Road ahead with much more care than he'd been exercising a moment earlier.

Almost as quickly, Ferdi stopped in his tracks and reached over his shoulder, his fingers undoing the fastenings of his bow case with the skill that comes of long practice. Behind them, Robin had also halted, and in the space of a breath had retrieved his bow from his back, strung it and nocked an arrow in readiness. The teens stood hesitating a few steps beyond him, sandwiched between Robin and the leaders, halted by his low-voiced command. Their heads swivelled as they stared about them, before diving for cover at another soft but urgent order from Ferdi's Bolger cousin. 'Get out of the Road! Get down!' After which Robin followed them to the verge and stood over them, as if to defend them with his own body as well as his bow.

By this time, Haldoron and Ferdi had their bows strung and arrows nocked, as well. The three archers surveyed the Road they had so recently travelled and then turned their combined gazes forward again, their wary watchfulness sharply contrasting with the serenity of their surroundings. The Sun smiled down upon them from the cerulean sky, and the rustling of the trees to one side, leafy crowns caressed by a soft summer breeze, was the only sound to be heard. But then the rapid hoofbeats of a galloping horse, fast approaching, teased at the edges of their hearing...

In the silence, Pip-lad's whisper seemed as loud as a shout. '...the sound of hoofs, going fast... clippety-clippety-clip, just as he said...' At Robin's stern look, he clapped his hands over his mouth and stared at the Road ahead, eyes wide.

Not long after, the galloping horse came into sight, running wild to all appearances – for as it closed the distance to the Walkers, the white-rimmed eyes and the nostrils, flaring red, communicated the depth of its panic. 

'Get off the Road!' Haldoron shouted even as he scrambled to safety. 

But Ferdibrand stood where he'd stopped, locking eyes with the fleeing creature as he slowly lowered his bow and transferred the arrow to his bow hand, then turned to the side and held out his empty hand towards the rapidly-approaching runaway. His companions heard him murmuring a series of nonsensical words as if he were a conjuror weaving a spell – for how could the horse even hear him?

Yet, as if by magic, the beast seemed to hesitate in mid-flight, its gait no longer a mad rush, and as it continued to pound towards them, its movements gradually slowed in the same way that a dwarf-made toy with a wind-up key slows as it winds down. Thus, the horse that had been racing at top speed but a moment ago was moving little faster than a walk when it reached the murmuring Hobbit, whereupon it stopped and dropped its muzzle to the outstretched hand.

Ferdi's words became intelligible as he slowly reached for the nearest trailing rein. 'There's a fine lad,' he whispered. 'All's well now. All's well.'

The horse, blowing hard and trembling violently, threw up its head at Haldoron's cautious approach, weapon lowered and held at his side, but Ferdi soothed it into quietness again with little more than his voice and gentle give-and-take on the rein he held. Still speaking in that sing-song murmur, with his attention fixed mainly on the horse, he said to the Man, 'Slowly now, move slowly... something's frightened the poor lad out o' his wits, it has.... Where d'you suppose his rider might be?'

'The Messenger,' Haldoron breathed, looking to the empty saddle and then back at his companion in wonder. 'How in the world did you do that?'

But Ferdi returned no answer, for all his attention was once again on soothing the lathered, shuddering beast. There's the lad...

Instead, Robin came forward, still holding his bow at the ready, with the teens following behind. To the Man, he said, 'It's a gift that my grandfather gave him, and his father before him, and his father – though 'tis said that no one knows where old Hildibrand, a son of the Old Took, found the gift in the first place. Perhaps the faeries whispered it to him, or a wizard laid upon him an enchantment of surpassing excellence that gave him an uncanny understanding of ponies? That's as good an explanation as any, or so my mum used to say.'

Ferdi's sing-song had changed. Och and where's yer rider noo, laddie-mine? Where ha' ye left 'im? And then, as the horse's head drooped and rested against his shoulder, and the horse blew a long, soft snort, he gently stroked the long face. 'Is that a fact?' the Hobbit whispered now. 'Fallen, is he? Can ye show us, lad?'

Haldoron stared. 'How did you...' he began, then shook his head at himself. Like many of his kindred, he could communicate with beasts and birds – not so easily as one of the Half-elven or an Elf, of course. But he'd understood this horse's gasping message well enough, and now he lifted his bow once more. 'We must go carefully,' he said.

'Ought we to leave Robin to guard the lads?' queried Ferdi.

Haldoron shook his head. 'Nay,' he said decisively. 'It could be a trick – this might be a trap set to capture the son of the Thain. If somehow the word got out...' He looked to the teens, standing behind Robin, and back to Ferdibrand. 'It is my counsel that we stay together.'

Since it would be difficult to creep carefully and quietly to investigate the fate of the King's Messenger with a horse in tow, Ferdi and Haldor, working together, quickly fashioned hobbles and used another section of rope to tie the beast to a tree just out of easy sight of the Road. 'There, now,' Ferdi said with a pat for the lowered neck as the horse greedily snatched at the grass in front of him. 'You just bide a wee here while we see what's what.'

At any other time, the young hobbits might have laughed to hear a great, whacking beast addressed so, but the seriousness of the situation had impressed itself upon them. Not even the faintest of smiles crossed their faces. Not only that, but both had pulled out their bows and strung them, and each had an arrow at the ready.

Thus, armed to the teeth, the small party began to walk in the direction whence the frightened horse had just come.

*** 

Author's note: If a panicked horse is running towards you, please do not try Ferdi's method. Advice regarding how to deal with this situation seems to vary (based on the results of a web search since I never dealt with a runaway in all my encounters with horses – just lucky, I guess); that said, it seems prudent to get out of its way to lessen the chance of being run down.

***