A knight of Gondor and a knight of the Mark rode knee to knee down the road to Stock, followed by four score of hobbit archers marching in good order.

'At least they haven't been able to cut down all the trees in the Shire,' Pippin commented to Merry.

'Not for want of trying,' Merry returned. He looked grimly at the felled trees scattered haphazardly in the woods to either side, not even harvested for use, but left to lie.

'The woodcutters will be busy,' Pippin said. 'It looks as if they won't need to cut any trees for quite awhile, they'll be so busy making the mess the ruffians left, into something of use.'

They had nearly reached Stock when a voice challenged them. 'Hold! What is your business in the Marish?' A hooded figure stepped out of the shadow of the trees. 'You are covered by archers,' he said grimly. 'Identify yourselves, or things might go ill with you.'

'Things might go ill anyhow,' Pippin muttered, seeing the Tookish archers behind him bridle at the threat. He held up his hand to restrain them, while Merry kneed his pony closer to the challenger.

'Uncle Merimac?' he called.

The figure stiffened. 'Who are you?' he growled. 'Is this some sort of trick?'

Merry slid down from the saddle and removed his helm. 'Do you know me now, Uncle?' he asked.

'It cannot be,' the other said, staggering back a step. 'Hob Hayward came to the Hall with a wild tale about how he'd seen you, but we thought...' He mastered himself, rushing forward to engulf his nephew in a fierce embrace. 'Merry!' he choked. 'I thought... we all thought... only Saradoc never gave up hoping...'

He stepped away and pulled off his hood, then eyed his nephew from curly crown to wooly foot. 'But where have you been?' he asked. 'Foreign parts, it seems.' He looked more closely. 'And if my eyes are not deceiving me, you've grown... at your age!'

'It's a long story,' Merry said, 'better told by the fireside with a glass of brandy in hand... but how is my father?' he asked.

'It has been a difficult year,' Merimac answered soberly. 'But it seems as if we have better times to look forward to, now.' He grasped Merry urgently by the arm. 'Do you come now to greet your parents?' he asked. 'We had heard rumours that you had been seen at the Bridge, and also how two knights appeared with an army of hobbits at Bywater to throw out the ruffians and their bosses, but we did not put the two stories together.'

'We have brought a force from Tookland to scour the woods for ruffians,' Merry answered. 'The Thain is working his way south and west, making sure the ruffians who were at Waymeet and Longbottom are able to find the border. Pippin and I had hoped to stop off at the Hall--'

'Pippin?' Merimac said sharply, then looked to the other knight.

Pippin bowed in the saddle. 'At your service,' he said with a grin.

Merimac shook his head in wonderment. 'I can see there are tales for the telling,' he said. 'But let us get to business: Join me with your archers; we've a nest of rats to clear out just past the old mill before you reach Stock. Once we clear out that little problem, you two can hop the Ferry over to Brandy Hall whilst our fighters are eating and resting to prepare for the next engagement.'

Merry smiled. 'That seems a fine plan, Uncle,' he said. He replaced his helm, got back on his pony, and called to his Uncle. 'Just point us in the right direction, and we'll take care of things.'

Four score of archers and two grim knights with shining swords were more than a match for the dozen or so ruffians. Those who resisted were quickly slain, and the few survivors who threw down their weapons at the start were roped together and told to sit down. 'We'll have a bite to eat, and then I'll just march them up the road to the Bridge, and over, while you go to give your parents a proper greeting,' Merimac said. 'We can meet in Stock after breakfast on the morrow.' He cast off his hood, and called to the hooded hobbits who were with him, 'Looks as if we won't be needing these anymore. No more dancing with the ruffians in the offing, it seems.'

The rest of the hoods came off, revealing several more Brandybuck cousins, some hobbits from Stock, and some from Woody End, including Hally, the woodcarver.

There was much backslapping and joyous greeting from the Brandybuck cousins, towards both of the newly-returned Travellers, as all the hobbits settled down to dig travel rations out of their packs.

Pippin and Merry sat down with Merimac. 'Cousin,' Pippin said quietly, with the slightest nod towards one of the hobbits from Stock sitting nearby. 'The mark on his neck... I saw the same mark on Ferdibrand. What is it?'

Merimac's eyes followed his, and he nodded. 'That's the mark of a survivor,' he said. 'The ruffians gave him a dancing lesson at the end of a rope, but we got to him in time.'

'I don't follow you,' Merry said.

'It's the way they deal with particularly bothersome troublemakers, when they're able to catch one. They call it hanging. They--'

'You don't have to say any more,' Pippin said, feeling slightly sick. He pushed his food away. He'd seen Men hanged on his journeys.

'How is the Fox, anyhow? I'm surprised he's not with you,' Merimac said.

'The Fox?' Merry asked, puzzled, but Pippin had heard the term used at the Smials.

'I'm sorry to say he was gravely wounded at the battle in Bywater,' he said. 'We do not yet know if he will recover from his injuries.'

'It grieves me to hear that,' Merimac said, then sighed. 'A brave lad. 'Twas hobbits like him that kept the ruffians out of Tookland. Had we more like him we might have kept them out of the Shire completely.'

'Fox?' Merry asked again.

Merimas looked at him with a grim smile. 'Yes, lad, he's the Fox and I, would you believe it, am the Badger. 'Twas safer not to go by our own names in the war we've been waging.' He dusted the crumbs of the travel bread from his hands. 'But time is wasting. I'd like to get these Men out of the Shire before the day is out, and you, lads, have a duty to greet the Master and Mistress of Buckland.'

Pippin arranged with Tolly the details for setting up camp in the woods west of Stock, then he and Merry mounted their ponies and rode to the Ferry landing. The Ferry was tied up on the Buckland side, and Merry got down to raise the signal flag. A hobbit came out of a ramshackle shed near the landing, arrow fitted to his bow, ready to shoot.

May I be of aid to you folk?' he said. The strangers were not Man-height, he could see, but somewhat taller than your average hobbit, and outlandishly dressed.

'Clem Claybank, do you not know me?' Merry laughed. 'Many's the time you've seen me over the River on the Ferry!'

'Master Merry?' the other gasped. His bow fell from nerveless fingers, and he put up shaking hands to ward off the knights. 'Be ye a ghost? Please... don't hurt me!'

Merry strode forward quickly, to seize the trembling hands. 'Clem,' he said urgently. 'I'm as real as you are, feel!' He pressed the other's hands. 'Good, solid flesh.'

'You've come back from the dead,' the other muttered, dazed.

'Never was dead, not quite,' Merry said cheerfully. 'Now, how do we get the Ferry to this side?'

'There's a signal I blow,' Clem said. 'If they don't hear it, they won't send the Ferry over.'

'Then blow away!' Merry said. 'I go to greet the Master and Mistress.'

Clem nodded, began to grin, hurried back to the shed, returning with a battered horn in hand. He lifted it to his lips and blew a hunting call. A flag went up on the far side, and he waved, lifting the horn to his lips again.

'Same call?' Merry asked.

'Yes, they want confirmation.'

'Allow me,' Merry said, lifting the silver horn of Rohan, and blowing the call. He watched in satisfaction as the Ferry left the eastern bank and started across the great River.

***

A quiet knock at the study door, and a deferential servant stuck his head in to say, 'Sir, you might want to come. There's two knights coming across on the Ferry from the Shire proper.'

'Two knights?' Saradoc, Master of Buckland, asked.

'Yes, Sir,' came the answer. 'That's what I said. Knights.'

Saradoc looked to his steward, then out the window, which afforded a panoramic view of the River and the Ferry landing. 'Your eyes see farther than mine, Cardoc,' he said.

The steward rose to look, then nodded. 'They appear to be knights, Master,' he said. 'A bit taller than the Ferry hobbits, but not much. They're riding ponies, not horses.'

Saradoc rose. 'Let's go down to greet them,' he said. 'Rumour said that knights had come to rouse the Shire against the ruffians.'

'I'll have archers standing by, just in case,' Cardoc said quietly. 'It might be a trick of the ruffians.'

'I don't think so,' the Master said, 'Something tells me... but go ahead and give the order anyhow.'

As he exited, he noted that half the Hall had heard the clear horn call and come to see what was happening. His own wife, Esmeralda, was waiting at the main entrance. She took his arm, and they walked down to the Ferry landing together, just as the Ferry docked.

The knights stepped off, leading their ponies, and stopped to see the multitude gathered to confront them.

Saradoc disengaged his wife's arm and stepped forward. 'Greetings, my Lords,' he said, bowing deeply. 'I am told we are beholden to two knights who called the Shirefolk to arms to cast out the ruffians. Would you be the ones?'

Merry was struck speechless with dismay at the sight of his father... bowing to him. At a loss for words, he removed his helm and stood hesitating.

Esmeralda gave a choked cry and stumbled forwards, throwing her arms about her son and weeping with abandon. Merry awkwardly embraced her, smiling down at her, whispering comfort.

When the knight smiled, Saradoc suddenly recognised his son. 'Merry,' he whispered, standing stock still. 'Meriadoc.'

His son looked up, then moved to his father with his mother still clinging to his side, to throw his free arm about Saradoc. 'Father,' he answered. 'I'm home.' He looked back to where Pippin stood silent, having removed his own helm. 'Pip's here, too.'

'Peregrin!' Esmeralda sobbed, reaching a hand towards her nephew, and Pippin strode forward to join the joyous embrace.