Chapter 13. More than Fast Enough

At Rudi’s insistence Reginard took them to see Ferdibrand’s father, Ferdinand. He lived in the depths of the Great Smials, where the old and infirm stayed, and never left his room.

’It’s late,’ Reginard warned. ‘He might already be abed.’

’We’ll waken him if we have to,’ Rudi said grimly. ‘This is important. We need to find Estella.’ He lowered his voice, glancing at his brother. ‘Fredegar, her brother—‘

’Freddy’s dying,’ Odovacar said quietly. ‘I had hoped to fetch his sister to his side before he leaves us.’

Regi nodded slowly. ‘Pippin told us how it was when they brought him out of the Lockholes,’ he said. They walked in silence the rest of the way, then Reginard said, ‘Here we are.’

He knocked upon the door, and an old auntie answered, opening the door and speaking softly. ‘Yes?’ she said. ‘What is it? Do you know how late it is? Late supper is over and done and Ferdinand’s abed.’

’These hobbits need to speak with him on an urgent matter,’ Reginard said. ‘Tell him his brother-in-love Odovacar is here.’

’Just a moment,’ the old auntie said, closing the door in their faces. A little more than a moment later the door opened again. ‘He’ll see you,’ she said, swinging the door open wider and leading them past the little hearth with its large, comfortable chair to the bedroom beyond. This room was dimly lit and Ferdinand was in shadow, propped up on the bed.

’What is it?’ he said bad-temperedly. ‘Why do you disturb my rest?’

In his mind’s eye Odovacar saw the dashing young Took who’d wooed and won his sister, Stelliana, even as Odo had wooed Ferdinand’s sister Rosamunda. The four had spent hours together, walking, riding, picnicking, picking flowers, dancing in the sunlight, splashing in the shallows near Budge Ford, fishing in the Tuckbourne, lying on their backs on the grass making up stories about the clouds or watching the stars wheel overhead.

The Ferdinand whom Odovacar had known and loved as a brother had vanished forever in the terrible fire years ago that had taken his stables, his ponies, his fortune, and his arms and legs. In addition his brother Ferdibrand, for whom his son was named, had perished in that fire, and his wife had lost her wits after watching the burning stables collapse upon them. She died raving not long after. All that was left of him was a broken, bitter hobbit, living on the charity of the Thain. He saw almost no one excepting his son and now his son was dying, struck down by a ruffian’s club.

’Ferdi spent every evening with you when he was here in the Smials,’ Odo said.

’He did, that, though he doesn’t any more,’ Ferdinand gritted. ‘The ruffians have seen to that.’

’He was to have brought my daughter to Tookland,’ Odo said. Ferdinand was silent. Odo tried again. ‘My Freddy took Estella to Rosemary’s house...’

’I don’t know what you mean,’ Ferdinand said.

’Your daughter—‘ Odo tried again.

’I have no daughter,’ Ferdinand said implacably.

’Ferdi was to have taken Estella from Rosemary’s house,’ Odo said desperately. ‘He was to have brought her to safety in Tookland. Now we find he did not bring her to Tuckborough. Did he ever mention anything to you about the matter?’

Ferdinand laughed, a terrible sound. ‘So you’ve lost your daughter as well,’ he said. ‘There seems to be a lot of that going around.’

’Did he say anything about Estella to you?’ Odo pressed.

Ferdinand stopped laughing and sat in silence. ‘I know what it is to lose a daughter,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, Odo. I cannot help you.’

’Did Ferdi--?’ Odo said.

’He said nothing of Estella to me,’ Ferdinand said heavily. ‘He always talked of pleasant things: the sunshine on the daisies, the cold, clear water of a spring bubbling from a hillside, the whisper of wind in the leaves. He never talked of his forays outside of Tookland, and I never asked. I’m sorry,’ he said again, and in the shadows they saw him turn his face away. ‘Leave me,’ he added. ‘I have no more words for you.’

’Come now,’ the old auntie said, finality in her tone. They went.

Outside Ferdinand’s rooms, Odo said, ‘May I see Ferdibrand?’

’What good would that do?’ Reginard said.

’No good at all, probably,’ Odo answered, and waited.

Reginard nodded to himself. At least Odo would know he’d followed every possible branch of the trail. ‘I’ll take you to him,’ he said. ‘Just don’t expect anything.’

’I don’t,’ Odo said. The Bolgers followed Reginard down several twists and turns, stopping at last at a door that stood partially open. Reginard rapped softly.

’Enter,’ was heard from within.

Reginard pushed the door open and the Bolgers entered. Pimpernel, daughter of Thain Paladin, rose from one of the chairs next to the bed; Reginard’s brother Everard occupied the other chair.

’Odovacar,’ Pimpernel said with a courtesy.

’I came to pay my respects to my nephew,’ Odo said. He crossed to the bed, looking down. The hobbit could have been anyone, head and half his face swathed in bandages, the visible part bruised and swollen. His left shoulder was heavily bandaged, the arm bandaged and splinted. He took up the limp right hand. ‘Would you leave us a moment, please?’

Startled, Pimpernel looked to Reginard. ‘Come, Nell,’ he said. ‘You’ll be all the better for a cup of tea. Rudi, why don’t you and Ev’ard escort Pimpernel to the second parlour? I’ll have some tea sent to you there.’

’It has been a long time, cousin,’ Rudivacar said, offering Pimpernel his arm and smiling into her eyes. She took his arm and answered politely, and the door closed behind them.

Odovacar sank into the chair by the bed, still holding Ferdibrand’s hand. ‘Ferdi?’ he said softly. ‘Ferdi, do you hear me? It is your Uncle Odo.’ There was no response or sign that Ferdi was aware of his presence. Odo bowed his head a moment and then raised it again. ‘Ferdi, where is Estella?’ he whispered. ‘Where is my daughter?’ He squeezed the limp hand, but there was no answering squeeze.

He thought of the irony in the situation. He and Ferdinand Took had been closer than brothers. Now it seemed both had lost their daughters (though Ferdinand could reclaim his, if he would only soften his stiff neck), and both were about to lose their sons.

How could he take this news back to Rosamunda? How could he go back, empty-handed, to Freddy? How, for that matter, could he sit and watch his son slip away?

’Ferdi,’ he said again. The fingers twitched in his own and he leaned forward.

’Twig,’ Ferdi whispered, and was silent once more.

***

’Twig!’ Merry reined in his pony at the anguished scream. He saw a small figure burst from the woods ahead of him, pursued by another twice its size, rapidly gaining, murder and rage in every line. Merry leaned forward, drawing his sword as he urged Bright Nose to the pony’s fastest pace.

The runners did not see him coming up behind them, intent as they were on their deadly race. He swung and the ruffian fell, just as his fingers had grasped at the fleeing hobbit lad’s shirt.

’Twig!’ the call came again from the wood, now behind them. The hobbit lad collapsed, sucking in air, as Merry jumped down from the saddle.

’Are you all right, lad?’ he asked.

The lad nodded, beyond speech for the moment. Soon another hobbit lad reached them, gasping.

’I thought you were dead!’ he said. ‘I thought he’d have you for sure!’

’What happened?’ Merry asked.

’Thank you, sir, thank you,’ the second hobbit lad gasped. ‘You saved my cousin for certain!’ He gulped down air, and was finally able to answer. ‘We were gathering nuts,’ he said, ‘when that ruffian came from nowhere and grabbed me round the neck.’ He added indignantly, ‘I couldn’t breathe! Why would he do such a thing?’

He slapped Twig, still bowed and straining for breath, on the back. ‘Twig here threw a stone at him, struck him fair in the nose! He dropped me and took out after Twig, and I thought he was a goner...’

’I thought I was a goner, too,’ Twig gasped, then straightened and held out a grimy hand. ‘My thanks to you, sir,’ he said. ‘I take it you’re one of the knights who’s driven the ruffians from the Shire.’

There was a touch of irony in the husky young voice, and Merry glanced at him sharply. ‘We are still driving them from the Shire, you mean,’ he said. ‘And you lads ought to stay close to home until we’ve finished the job.’

’You can be sure of that,’ Twig’s cousin said with a definite nod.

’Come on,’ Merry said. ‘I’ll take you home.’ He climbed up on Bright Nose again and lifted one lad to sit before him, the other to sit behind, and let them direct him to the farmstead with its cosy hobbit hole dug into the Green Hills.

He left them off with a warning to Twig's aunt to keep the lads close at home, and keep a bow handy. Recovered from their fright, the lads waved jauntily at him as he took his leave, Twig’s grin reminding him of a young Fredegar Bolger. That shouldn’t surprise him, Freddy was half Took, after all.

With a last wave, he turned his pony around and kneed him into a fast pace, to catch Pippin and his troop of archers who’d left the Smials at first light this morning.

(’You’re late,’ Reginard Took had said as Merry rode up when it was nearly elevenses. ‘Grab a bite to eat. Pip’s already gone, down the Stock Road towards Woody End. He said you could catch him if your pony’s fast enough.’)

Merry grinned, caressing his pony’s neck. ‘He’s more than fast enough,’ he said.