On the eve of the Pony Races, after the feast and the following bonfire, Ferdibrand found himself unable to sleep. While others sought their beds, he wandered under the stars, deep in his own thoughts, hardly noting the passage of time. Turning back towards the Great Smials, he noticed with a start that the windows were mostly darkened, with only the light of a watch-lamp scattered here or there. It must be very late, indeed, and with the work he had cut out for him on the morrow, he had better seek his bed sooner than later.

He'd stop by the stables, first, for a last check on Dapple, Star and Penny. He'd look in on Socks as well, though there was no doubt the Thain had already put that pony to bed with a bedtime story and slices of apple.

He might have been a walking shadow, with his quiet step and his hunter's clothes, so it was no wonder the lads did not see him, so intent were they on their mischief. Ferdi stopped short, seeing the flickering lantern light where there ought to be none... He crept forward, listening.

'Still, it feels like stealing to me,' he heard the voice of his nephew Robin say, to be answered by young Faramir.

' 'Tis my father's gold, so it's not stealing, you know. He'd let me have some if I asked.'

'Would he now?' Rudivar Bolger said sceptically.

'Come now, let us not start any fights,' Robin hissed urgently. 'Get the business over and done.' As Ferdi peeked around the corner of the doorway, he saw the lads bent over Socks' off hind hoof, brushing on glue and then applying bits of gold leaf, undoubtedly taken from the store of gold leaf that woodcarver Hally had used to cover the winner's trophy.

The pony moved restlessly, and Faramir said absently, 'Steady, Socks.' Ferdi saw him look up at Rudivar. 'D'you think you could get him another apple? We're half done, just have the front to do, now.' Rudivar nodded and left the stall.

Running into Ferdi, he gasped, but Ferdi grasped him firmly by the arm, putting a finger to his lips. He pulled the lad along to the barrel of apples near the feed room, then whispered, 'You need to get the lantern up off the floor; hang it on a hook. Pony's all too likely to kick it over once you start to work on his front feet.' Rudivar nodded, his eyes wide. Ferdi smiled, took an apple from the barrel, and pressed it into his hand.

'Go now,' he whispered, giving the lad a little shove in the proper direction. He followed a little ways behind Rudivar, stopping where he could see into the stall without being seen. He nodded approval as Rudivar lifted the lantern from the floor of the stall and hung it on the hook.

'What are you doing?' Faramir hissed. 'Someone'll see!'

'Better to be found out, than to have the pony kick the lantern over and start a fire,' Rudivar said. He began to cut the apple into slices, feeding them to Socks one little piece at a time to keep the pony's mind occupied whilst his front hoofs were gilded.

As the mischief-makers finished their work and blew out the lantern, Ferdi glided silently from the stable.

***

The day dawned bright and promising, with a festive atmosphere of bustle and cheer before the Sun even peeked over the horizon. Hobbits came from all over Tookland, from all four Farthings as a matter of fact, for the annual pony races.

A great cheer arose as the Thain spoke the opening words of greeting. Socks tossed his head, and Ferdi soothed him, then tugged at the sable-and-silver colours he wore over his own emerald green. He'd ride Pippin's pony in the first heat, hand the pony over to Tolly to cool him out, strip off Pippin's colours and take Penny from Hilly, who'd be warming her up during the first heat, in time to be ready to race in the second. It made for a busy day... He hoped he wouldn't get confused in later heats and find himself riding the wrong pony, or wearing the wrong colours...

The hills about the racecourse were covered with a blanket of hobbits, and lads of varying ages bedecked the trees like over-sized birds. The ponies lined up at the start, quite a few needing extra help from the starter's assistants. It took two burly Tooks, as a matter of fact, to help Ferdi move Socks to the starting line and keep him there. The Thain's pony was feeling good, and as he reared high, the rising Sun glinted from the gilded hoofs. Socks reared again at the resulting roar from the crowd. Ferdi stuck to his saddle like a cockleburr, but it wasn't easy.

At last the ponies were lined up, relatively ready, and the assistants stepped back. The starter raised his flag, and Ferdi took a deep breath, feeling Socks tense under him. The flag swirled in the air and came down, and they were off! There was not much to tell about the race afterwards; Socks won the heat handily. Many of the onlookers joked that the gilding lent wings to his feet.

Penny was bumped at the start of her heat, and Ferdi thought her racing was over for the day, but the gallant little mare fought her way through the pack to the fore, winning her heat by a head. Ferdi accepted the cheers of the crowd as Penny's due; she had shown her quality, and in only her first race of the day. He grinned broadly at young Faramir, cheering by his father's side; surely the lad's gift of ribbons, braided into Penny's mane, had helped her run faster. He cooled Penny out himself, for there would be some time before he had to ride either pony again, in another heat, to qualify for the quarter final race.

Socks and Penny easily won the next heats, and then their quarter finals, advancing to the semi finals, which would determine the field for the final race. Penny had already won her semi final race; she would definitely be in the final contest. Tolly looked up at Ferdibrand as he guided Socks to the starting line. 'Are you going to split yourself in half, then?' he asked.

Ferdi laughed. 'If Socks wins this race...' he noted the swiveling ears and hastily added, 'which of course he will...' the pony tossed his head and snorted, and Ferdi couldn't help laughing again. 'When he wins this race,' he said for the listening pony's benefit, 'I'll give Hilly the silks and he'll ride the Thain's pony in the final race whilst I'm riding Penny.'

'Better him than me,' Tolly muttered, and the pony shook his head playfully and reached out to nip him, but he was ready for such tricks, being familiar with the Thain's favourite.

Once again, there was the difficult process of lining up the ponies, and this race had the annoyance of a false start as well. Ferdi eyed the field as they were lining up a second time. He'd watched the quarter finals, to familiarise himself with the competition, and nodded to himself now. Socks would have his work cut out for him. There was the bright bay pony who broke fast and liked to take an early lead, and seemed to run faster when other ponies came up behind. And there was the shining black with one white stocking, a slow starter, who steadily ate up the ground between himself and the leaders, until he poked his nose ahead, "Surprise!" just as they crossed the finish line. There was also the chestnut ridden by Hornblower Bracegirdle; the pony was no great shakes, a decent racer, certainly, but the rider was aggressive enough to make up for some of his mount's shortcomings.

Ferdi flexed his wrists slightly and felt Socks quiver beneath him. 'Here we go,' he murmured to the pony. He looked up to see Pippin watching, and gave his cousin a nod and a smile. 'Pip's got his eye on you,' he said to Socks. 'Let's do him proud, shall we?' The pony tensed, and Ferdi saw the starter's flag rise, swirl... and dip.

Socks got off to a good start, jumping ahead of the rest of the pack, but the Bracegirdle pony was right beside him, on the inside. Ferdi let Socks run, not holding him back, but not pushing him either. It would be foolish to use up the pony here, in the first half of the race, with that slow-but-steadily creeping black pony somewheres behind them.

Neck-and-neck the two ponies raced, Hornblower Bracegirdle pushing his pony hard, pushing Socks away from the railing. Socks had his ears back, resenting this treatment, and Ferdi soothed his neck as they ran, murmuring to the back-turned ears, encouraging him to pay the other no mind, set his sights ahead, keep running. It was a dangerous strategy on Hornblower's part. Pushing Socks outward would frustrate the pony and give him a longer distance to run, but it also left an opening for a later bloomer to nose his way into. A quick glance behind him as they swept around the first turn showed Ferdi that the rest of the field was well back, led by the black pony. He saw the bright bay further back; that pony must have had a poor start and might never catch up, if luck was with them.

Socks pulled ahead on the long straightaway, but the chestnut Bracegirdle pony came up again as they came into the second turn. Another glance behind told Ferdi that the black pony had left the field and was slowly catching them up, though as far as Ferdi could tell, Socks' pace had not slackened, he was even running a bit faster than he had off the start.

The chestnut pushed ahead by a nose, and Socks increased his speed to pull even again. Coming around the second turn, the chestnut did not hug the fence as tightly as he might, bumping the Thain's pony as the latter made the turn. 'Watch it!' Ferdi shouted to Hornblower, but the other merely grinned and urged his pony faster. Ferdi felt Socks steady under him as they completed the turn, the chestnut still not tight on the fence, and Hornblower once again kneed his pony subtly away from the fence, pushing the smoke-coloured pony outwards. Socks resisted, and there was another bump; Ferdi felt the pony's gait change, and with another, more violent bump, suddenly the two ponies and their riders were going down in a terrifying tangle. Ferdi instinctively threw himself clear, for an incredible moment floating in the air before the ground came up to knock him halfway to Buckland. Dazed, he pulled his arms up over his head and curled into a ball as ponies thundered around and over him.

It was so very quiet that Ferdi could hear the wind teasing the leaves in the trees by this quarter of the racecourse, then he heard running feet, stumbling to a stop before him, the thud of knees hitting the ground. Someone touched him.

'Ferdi?' Pippin's voice was anxious, his breathing harsh in the silence.

Another voice spoke... Healer Mardibold, Ferdi thought. 'Don't try to move him.' Hands were running over his body, now, pulling up the colourful shirt to look for bruising on his torso, feeling his limbs for breaks.

'Ferdi,' Tolly said urgently. 'Ferdi, are you with us?' Hands were on his arms now, trying to pull them away from his head, and it hurt. Ferdi heard somber talk somewhere behind him, about a broken leg, a real shame, the pony was such a good'un...

Ferdi groaned, trying to sit up. 'Lie still,' Mardi said.

'You jest,' Ferdi gritted. It was the bow arm again, he could feel the bones grating together, ah, if he'd only had the luck to break a leg instead... Supporting the broken arm with his other hand, he rolled to his knees.

'Sit down!' Mardi said in frustration, but Ferdi shook his head. Bad idea. He'd have to resort to words for the nonce.

'The pony,' Ferdi replied, a sense of urgency growing. If Socks had broken a leg...

'Blast the pony!' Pippin said, and Ferdi was shocked, not only at the Thain's dismissal of his favourite, but that he should swear at all. He'd never heard his cousin swear, not since Pippin had become Thain.

'Think about yourself for a change, cousin,' the Thain continued, but Ferdi shook off the restraining hands and staggered to his feet. The crowd cheered his apparent escape from injury.

Blinking, Ferdi saw the chestnut pony struggling on the ground, suddenly stilled after a stable hobbit delivered the death stroke. Healer Woodruff was bent over Hornblower Bracegirdle, and there was another cheer from the crowd as he was helped to his feet. Socks was up, Ferdi saw with relief, though the pony held one forefoot off the ground, and Old Tom was running gentle hands up and down the leg.

Ferdi limped over and the old stable hobbit looked up. 'Knee,' he said succinctly. 'I think we can save him.'

'I'm not so sure about his rider,' Mardi said grimly, taking Ferdi by the good arm. 'Come, lad, let's see to you.'

'He belongs in a bed,' Woodruff said, coming up. 'That arm is broken, at the very least.'

'I'm fine,' Ferdi said, and half the hobbits surrounding him snorted. 'Just splint the arm,' he continued. 'I've still a race to ride in.'

'I'll ride Penny,' Hilly broke in. 'You're in no shape...'

'Will you do that, now?' Ferdi said gratefully. 'I'd be that obliged...' the ground was starting to spin about him. He looked sadly at the Thain. 'I'm sorry, Pip,' he said, and then he was falling, hands catching him, and he spun down into darkness.