Chapter 24. Change in Plans
Two riders pulled up in the courtyard of the Great Smials, one leaning heavily on the other. Rollo, the doorward assigned to watch for arrivals turned and jerked open the minor door where he stood and shouted down the corridor, 'Injured arriving!' He nodded at hearing the order echoed, carried ever deeper into the Smials all the way to the infirmary.
Stable lads had already stepped up to take the newcomers' reins by the time Rollo reached them. 'Healer's on the way,' he said.
The uninjured rider, a farmer from his clothing, bore a quiver and bow, the unstrung weapon carried in his quiver rather than in its bow case, allowing the archer to reach over his shoulder, grab and string it and, with another quick movement, seize an arrow, nock and shoot – and all without the pony missing a step, even at a gallop. In other words, the archer had been expecting trouble, and was prepared to meet it.
At the moment, however, he was fully occupied with holding his companion in the saddle. His voice was laced with relief as he answered Rollo. 'He's still with us,' he said, and then, 'Good! But as you value your life, call for a stretcher and the Thain into the bargain!' And when Rollo hesitated – the Thain? – he boomed, 'Now!' loudly enough to make the doorward and the ponies jump.
...and then the archer was too busy soothing the ponies to pay Rollo further heed. But Rollo could take a hint – "as you value your life" meant the situation was serious, perhaps even critical. He spun and sprinted to the door, jerked it open, and bellowed down the corridor. 'The Thain! Summon the Thain!'
He didn't need to call for a stretcher; one of those would come with the healer per protocol.
On returning to the riders, still in their saddles, understanding bloomed as he recognised the slumping figure. 'Ferdi!' he cried. 'Is it well with you?'
'I don't know what makes you think that...' Ferdi slurred. 'Thain...'
'Steady, Fox,' the farmer said. 'Help is on its way.'
'I'll help you get him down,' Rollo said, moving to Ferdi's side, but the farmer forestalled him.
'No!' he said sharply. 'Don't move him, not until the healer comes.'
'It's all the same,' Ferdi mumbled, 'in the saddle or on the stones...'
'Save your breath,' the farmer scolded.
Ferdi lifted his head. Blearily, he countered, 'What breath?' He was taking short, shallow gulps of air, Rollo saw. 'If there was any to be had... then p'rhaps... I might have some... to save...'
The farmer hushed him, and whether it was a matter of weakness or obedience, Ferdi's head drooped again and came to rest on the farmer's shoulder.
'What's happened?' Rollo demanded, adding his support to the farmer's.
'Ruffians,' the farmer said succinctly, then, 'Steady, Fox, they're coming.'
'I know they're coming,' Ferdi mumbled into the farmer's shoulder. 'That's why we're here.'
Hurrying figures burst from two of the lower outer doors into the Smials – from one, healers and stretcher-bearers, and from the other, a little slower and more ponderously, Thain Paladin, flanked by Reginard, his heir since young Peregrin had disappeared and been declared dead, along with several archers who shadowed Paladin everywhere he went, no matter how inconvenient or aggravating it might be. Well, perhaps not quite everywhere. But almost.
Rollo shook himself free of his wool-gathering and shouted to the on-comers, 'It's the Fox!' Rather unnecessarily, he added, 'He's injured! And he's urgent news for the Thain!'
'Don't move him!' the first healer to reach them snapped. The farmer nodded firmly as if feeling vindicated by the order.
'I should say he has,' Paladin panted as he reached them next. 'What news?' He glowered at the slumping figure in the saddle, Fox or no Fox. 'This had better be good,' he growled. 'A fast messenger came in just moments ago and said you'd changed my orders to "Shoot to kill"!'
'Kill,' echoed the slumped figure of the Thain's Chief Scout. 'Death,' he whispered. 'Plans...'
The others gathering there froze for a second at the Thain's words, and Ferdi's reply, and then returned to their grim business: stretcher bearers at the ready, three healers swarming around the two riders, exchanging rapid words and phrases as they conducted an examination on the spot, the stable lads soothing the hard-ridden but still excited ponies, and Rollo helping support the injured hobbit in the saddle.
'All right,' Healer Mardibold said. 'We'll ease him down – keep him upright, and we'll lay him on his side to carry him...'
'Thain...' Ferdi moaned as the healers and helpers began to lift him.
But as they laid him on the stretcher, he resisted, fighting – not to get up, Rollo realised, but fighting just to take in a breath!
Mardi saw it too. 'Sit him up!' he snapped. 'We'll carry him in a "lady chair", sitting up, that he may get some air.' And to Paladin, he said, 'I dunno, Thain... Not only is he in no shape to be in a saddle, but I'm not even sure we'll get him inside, at this rate...'
Rollo and one of the stretcher bearers lifted Ferdi between them, locking arms to form a living chair, and someone else pulled the stretcher out of their way.
'Report!' Paladin said, leaning in close as they turned to bear the gasping figure into the Smials.
Mardi was murmuring, to the effect of Slow and steady, now... easy, lad. ...but the healer did not, Rollo noticed uneasily, try to forestall the Thain or insist that Ferdi keep his breath to cool his porridge. And so the doorward was privy to the terrible news the Fox had brought from the Outer Shire as they moved slowly and carefully as a group to avoid jarring the injured hobbit.
'Ruffians...' that hobbit wheezed.
'O aye,' Paladin said under his breath.
'March...' Ferdi managed. 'Gather hobbits... Bywater... Hobbiton...'
'Gather hobbits,' Paladin echoed, squeezing Ferdi's shoulder. 'Not gather from hobbits, I take it?'
Ferdi nodded. 'March ahead of... Men,' he panted. 'Spring traps. Men... on fast ponies... race to Smials... kill... capture you, Sir, and your family...' Somehow, the injured hobbit rallied at the last part, straightening in his bearers' arms and turning his head towards the Thain, his gaze sharp and demanding.
'They might have some trouble...' Paladin began, but Ferdi shook his head.
'Orcs!' he gasped. 'Lotho's brought in half-orcs! Capture the Thain... give you and... Mistress... Pearl... her children! ...Vinca... Nell!' He fought for air before adding the rest. 'Give you all to the orcs... public spectacle... Bywater... Market square... make an example...'
He got the message across, not only to Paladin, but to the hobbits bearing him and the hovering healers, for the little group stopped still, just inside the lesser door to the Smials that provided the fastest route to the infirmary.
'The fool!' Paladin swore, and lower, he said, revealing his shock and dismay at Ferdi's news, 'By all that's green... by all that's green and growing...' And then he renewed his grasp on Ferdi's shoulder and gave the injured hobbit a shake, 'When?' he demanded.
Ferdi had slumped again, his eyes glazing, but he tried to lift his head, turned towards Paladin and winked as if he had difficulty seeing the Thain's face.
'When?' Paladin repeated. 'How soon, Ferdi? How much time do we have?'
'No time,' Ferdi whispered. 'No...' and then his eyes closed and he lolled in his bearers' arms.
'Mardi!' the Thain snapped.
'Still with us,' Mardi said, 'though I'm not sure how.'
'Regi,' Paladin said succinctly, 'call all the Captains of companies and Captain-seconds to the great room! The heads of the guilds and all areas of the Smials! Assemble as quick as we can!'
'Order the Muster, Sir?' Regi asked, poised to carry out his orders.
'Not yet,' Paladin said, 'but likely within the hour we'll be sending out riders to all corners o' the Land.'
***
A muttering crowd filled the great room as Paladin entered with Eglantine. None had taken a seat, but all were standing, as if they anticipated marching from the room immediately after receiving their orders. The Talk had already started circulating about the unbelievable "shoot to kill" order issued to the border guards earlier in the morning, and the abrupt summons calling them to this assembly only confirmed their impression of dire tidings.
Silence fell when Paladin and Eglantine mounted the dais that usually hosted the head tables at mealtimes and feasts. There was no need to call the hobbits to order; something portentous was in the air.
Quietly – and yet somehow the Thain's voice carried to the far edges of the assembly – Paladin outlined Lotho's plan. 'The so-called Boss has wearied of the Tookish resistance,' he began. 'So much so, the fool has sought help from Outsiders...' he paused at the enormity of the next words he must voice, and then forged ahead. 'Half-Orcs,' he said heavily. 'If we found ruffians – rogue Men – something of a challenge as we worked out out strategies to keep them out of our land, then just think about Men who are not Men, as we've become accustomed to dealing with, but Orc-Men. Men whose blood, in part, has been somehow mingled with that of goblins – the flesh-eaters of Hobbit legend and nightmare...'
A murmur arose from his listeners, and horror haunted every face. Goblins were fine and well when telling stories by the fireside, but... real goblins? Coming into the Shire on Lotho's invitation?
The murmur quickly died as Paladin resumed telling the terrible news. 'And so the order has been issued to all border guards to "shoot to kill",' he said. 'The life of any Man who enters no-Man's land is, from this day forward, forfeit!'
'Hear-hear!' arose from scattered voices in the crowd.
'Moreover,' Paladin said. 'Any day now, Men and their Orkish comrades will march upon our borders. I've had word from one of our scouts that Lotho's Men were already rounding up Shire-folk from Overhill and Hobbiton and herding them to Bywater, though it wasn't clear what their purpose might be. But the news the Fox brought back uncovered their fell purpose...!'
He surveyed his listeners grimly. 'The invaders will force the Shire-folk to march before them, to spring the traps that guard our borders... That is the first part of the plan to rid the Shire of its "vermin" – for they'll leave the hobbits hanging by their ankles or trapped in the deep pits, simply leave them there to let nature take its course...'
A few exclamations burst out at the picture he painted, and then they quieted, for there was obviously more.
'While some are engaging the border guards, others will mount swift ponies to race to the Smials – to take the Tooks by surprise!' The Thain accompanied this thought with a wintry smile. 'And in surprising us, their aim is to kill as many Tooks here in Tuckborough as they can manage, and march the few survivors to the Lockholes. Once they've taken the heart of our land, they can work outwards to the rest of the Tookland and exterminate more of us vermin at their leisure...'
As if the news weren't chilling enough, Paladin swept his listeners with a cold glare and finished, 'The Fox confirmed the rumours that some half-Orcs are already in the Shire, working for Lotho. We also have reliable information that more such monsters are on their way to the Shire, even now, to swell their ranks. And, combining history and legend with rumour and speculation... Orkish folk do not work for the sort of wages hobbits are used to paying and earning.'
Eglantine, at his side, closed her hands into fists. Her jaw, too, was clenched, and her face was set in grim lines.
Paladin received nods from his listeners; he nodded in return and said, 'No, but along with or perhaps in lieu of coin... for Lotho is a grasping, greedy fellow, and he will no doubt see paying his workers in other forms than silver, copper or gold as a boon... the Orkish ruffians are very likely anticipating their pay will come in the form of hobbits.' He swallowed hard, then, as if swallowing down sickness that surprised him at its advent since he'd been steeling himself to deliver this news since the moment he'd grasped the gist of Ferdi's desperate warning. He concluded quietly, 'I don't think I have to spell that out for you.'
And then the Thain did a curious thing: he reached to the side and took Eglantine's hand, and then he looked to the Mistress and nodded.
Mistress Eglantine raised her voice. 'We've already sent out messengers to the Outer Shire,' she said. 'Their task is dangerous but vital. They will be starting a rumour in all parts of the Shire we can reach.' Her lips twisted in an icy smile. 'We made it as simple as we possibly could in order to encourage it to spread widely and rapidly, even amongst those Shire-folk who are already being "mustered" in Bywater.'
To their unspoken consternation, her listeners understood that at least one rumour-monger planned to slip into the throng of captive hobbits in Bywater, become one with them, risk the same fate, in fulfilling his mission.
'The rumour is, quite simply, this catchy rhyme,' Eglantine stated, and she lifted her voice to sing a nursery tune with decidedly altered lyrics.
When the Tooks give a shout,
Throw yourself to the ground,
Lest their arrows hit you,
Not the Men all around.
'And so,' Paladin said, 'I'm calling the Muster! I'm calling the farmers from the fields, even though it is seedtime, the hunters from the woods and meadows, the weavers from their looms, the woodworkers from their lathes, the shepherds from their flocks... All Tooks and Tooklanders able to draw a bow are called to the borders, to await the assault that is to come before the end of this week, or so Lotho's ruffians themselves believe...'
'How do we know it isn't a trick?' Verilard, the Thain's Chief Hunter called out. 'To wear us down, to blunt our edges with useless alarums? To pull us from our crops and grindstones again and again, until none answer the Muster when the real assault comes?'
'A valid concern,' Paladin acknowledged. 'However, the ruffian who shared this plan was unaware he was overheard. He took precautions, so the Fox told me after they settled him in a bed, still among the living I'm glad to say... and yet, the Man also made assumptions, and his carelessness is to our advantage in this case.'
He swept the crowd with his gaze. 'You see,' he said, 'the Fox was their prisoner, but somehow he escaped... And the ruffians swept the area thoroughly, or so they thought, and concluded that he'd not stuck around to risk recapture and further ill treatment but had fled to the safety of the Tookland.'
A murmur arose at the word prisoner but changed to a chuckle at thoroughly.
Paladin smiled grimly. 'O aye,' he said. 'A hobbit overhearing the news was not something the ruffian chief was worried about. And so, Lotho's Men, and the monsters among them, still believe that the element of surprise is on their side. But I think we can show them differently...'
The Thain met Verilard's gaze then, and he said, 'We'll call Tooks and Tooklanders away from their usual business for the coming week only, while we're setting up a warning system. In future days, we'll be placing lads and lasses, along with our fastest ponies, on likely approaches that a body of marching Men, driving Hobbits before them, could be expected to take. On first sight of such a body, they'll ride and sound the alarm, and the alarm will spread, and archers will drop everything and grab up their weapons and dash at their best speed into danger!
'From the nature of the news the Fox brought, this attack, at least, will come from the direction of Bywater, and so we will mass the bulk of the Muster in that quarter for this next week while distributing the rest strategically in other places as my advisors see fit,' Paladin concluded. 'Are there any questions?'
At the general shaking of heads in the crowd before him, the Thain turned to Reginard and said, 'Sound the Muster!'
***