Chapter 13. The Hunt

Fear and anger dissolved Ferdi’s weariness as if he’d had a magical potion: as Pippin’s special assistant he was as responsible for the safety of the Thain and his family as the head of escort. As a matter of fact, Tolly answered to him... but Tolly was in Pincup, two other hobbits of the escort remained at the Great Smials, kept confined by the healers for a fever-and-rash that was making the rounds, and the last of the escort, Hilly, was missing with Diamond and Farry.

He snapped out orders, sending a quickpost rider to the Smials with a message commanding the muster of an hundred mounted archers, all to ride at best speed to the Cockerel, and another fifty to ride direct to Pincup. He’d send further instructions to the group at the Cockerel after scouting the trail, or if he were prevented, they were to proceed to Pincup, to the command of the Thain. Should Ferdi disappear while tracking the missing hobbits, Pippin would rouse Tookland to the search for Diamond and Farry.

It was possible that they’d met with some sort of accident along the way, but with ruffians having entered the Shire on at least two previous occasions, Ferdi was not going to take any chances.

 ‘I will ride with you,’ Merry said, and Ferdi nodded relief. He considered Meriadoc the Magnificent, one-handed, to be more help than a dozen able hobbits, and he said so.

 ‘Half a dozen, perhaps,’ Merry said lightly, but his visage was grim and the light of battle was in his eyes. His encounter with ruffians the previous year had left him with few illusions about the goodness of renegade Men. It did not occur to him to take charge of the situation; Ferdi was the hunter, after all, experienced at following trails, and responsible for Pippin's family. He'd follow along until there was need for action.

Another quickpost rider accompanied them as they rode to the place where the track left the Stock Road, heading due south to Pincup. Ferdi dismounted and scouted the trail. He found Starfire’s hoofprints, of course, leading towards the Cockerel, but more importantly he found clear prints of Diamond’s gelding, marks he’d missed in the darkness. He recognised the pattern of nail-marks, having watched the farrier shoe the pony just a week earlier. Luck of a sort was with them; there had been very few travellers along the track since the heavy rains of the previous week.

Remounting, he led the others, following the marks with a keen eye as they rode along as fast as he could manage and still distinguish the marks of the gelding’s passage. They forded the first stream, but the trail was easy to pick up, churned into the muddy bank on the opposite side. Onward they pressed, through the fog that shrouded the woods. Ferdi didn’t need to see far ahead; the trail he followed was just in front of his pony’s nose...

They crossed several more streams before Ferdi lost the trail on the far side of a rushing stream. He could see the marks in the steep muddy bank on the Pincup side where Starfire, protesting, had slid down into the foaming water, but there were no marks showing ponies struggling up the bank. He dismounted at the edge of the stream, nearly to his waist in the water, and clawed his way to the top of the bank, following the track a ways back before he decided that Diamond’s pony had not emerged from the stream at this point. The hoofprints went into the water on the north side of the stream, but none had emerged on the Pincup side.

He slid down the bank again, landing in the water with a splash that soaked him further. Starfire tossed his head in protest, but stood in the foaming water to let Ferdi mount. Shivering, he reined the stallion around and returned to the northern bank where Merry and Jay, the quickpost rider, waited. ‘The trail stops here,’ he said.

 ‘Swept away?’ Merry said grimly.

Ferdi shook his head. ‘It hasn’t rained in several days,’ he said. ‘The stream wouldn’t have been much higher than it is now.’ He cast an eye up the bank on the far side. ‘Likely they didn’t like the looks of the bank and went in search for easier footing.’

 ‘Which way?’ Merry said. He wasn’t a tracker or hunter, but he trusted Ferdi’s long years of practice.

 ‘We’ll try upstream first,’ Ferdi said, making an arbitrary decision. Merry and Jay urged their beasts into the water after Starfire; they forded the stream and turned upstream, forging against the current. Ferdi felt astonishingly alert, considering his want of rest. The soaking in the icy water had shocked all weariness away, and though his ears were buzzing and the land seemed somehow tilted to his senses, he was wide awake and paying strict attention to his surroundings.

When they reached a spot where the bank dipped lower, he dismounted again to survey the muddy incline. ‘They might have left the stream here,’ he said, ‘but they didn’t.’

 ‘Farther along?’ Merry said.

Ferdi shook his head. ‘No reason,’ he said. ‘I imagine they didn’t come this way. We’ll try downstream next.’

They turned their ponies and plodded downstream again. Starfire’s ears were flat back against his head in distaste; he hated walking through puddles, much less fast water up to his knees. Still, he led the way, stopping at the ford as if to say, I’ve had enough of this nonsense. May we go back to the inn, now? Ferdi urged him onwards, and with a near-hobbit sigh the stallion continued.

At last the bank fell away abruptly and they came to an area where the stream had broached the shore. Ferdi reined in to regard the lie of the land; he slid from the saddle into still water that was knee-deep. Looking up at Merry, he said, ‘It’s passable. If they rode this way, Hilly might have turned in here.’

Remaining afoot, he led his pony into the flooded wood. Starfire walked lightly, delicately, placing each foot with precision, his ears still pinned firmly to his head, his nose close to the surface of the water, his nostrils wide as if he sought to catch some elusive scent.

 ‘The trees are dead here,’ Merry said uneasily, looking around them.

 ‘Not a good sign,’ Ferdi agreed. He was distracted, however, when Starfire planted his feet and pulled backwards on the reins, refusing to stir a step farther. ‘Come along, old lad,’ he said with a gentle tug. The pony, blowing heavily, rolled an eye at him and refused.

 ‘Some time for him to quit,’ Merry said, ‘When we’re nearly to dry ground.’

 ‘Come along, now,’ Ferdi said, walking to the end of the length of reins. It was as if he’d stepped from solid earth into the mouth of a ravenous creature intent upon sucking him in; suddenly the reins were all that held him from being swallowed at a gulp.

 ‘A bog!’ Merry shouted, throwing himself from his pony. ‘Ferdi!’

Starfire threw his head up to counter the pull. Ferdi clung tight to the reins, praying that they’d hold... he’d braided them himself, upon a sunny summer day, and now his life depended on them.

 ‘Stand, Star,’ Merry gasped to the pony as he splashed his way to Starfire’s head. Starfire had no intention of moving! The pony maintained the pull against the bog, and Merry grabbed a handful of the pony’s long mane and leaned forward, helpless to do more. ‘Fight, Ferdi!’ he cried.

 ‘Back!’ Ferdi gasped. Merry misunderstood and shook his head, but the pony knew that word, and was in complete agreement with the sentiment. Slowly, Starfire moved one foot backwards, and then another, keeping the pull on the reins steady.

 ‘That’s it!’ Merry said, and Jay added his own encouragement from Starfire’s other side. He was at the edge of the safe footing, one hand on the pony and the other extended to Ferdi. ‘Back, lad, there’s a fine pony!’ Merry added.

At last the quickpost rider was able to grasp at Ferdi’s hand and add his pull to the pony’s. It wasn’t long before Ferdi was gasping in the shallow water, firmer mud beneath him.

 ‘We’ve got to get you out of this water and warm,’ Merry said, but the rescued hobbit stubbornly shook his head.

 ‘They were here,’ he panted. ‘Look!’

The others followed his pointing hand, to the hanging bow.

  ‘Lost?’ Merry whispered. ‘Lost in a bog?’ How could he ever tell Pippin?

Ferdi shook his head. He’d seen the branches without understanding their significance, but now he knew of a certainty something of what had happened here. ‘Someone—Hilly was in the bog, and someone else shoved branches out to make a bridge of sorts for him to crawl out,’ he said. ‘Pip taught us that... he said it was the next best thing to rope, if the one in the bog wasn’t sinking too quickly.’

Merry nodded. It was one of the things Pippin had learned from the southern Rangers, during the days they’d lingered in the Southlands, after their wounds healed but before they turned their faces homewards. ‘We’ll go around,’ he said as he and Jay helped Ferdi to his feet. Ferdi leaned against Merry, momentarily dizzy. Jay pulled Ferdi's dripping cloak from him, tossed it over Starfire's saddle, and slung his own cloak about Ferdi's shoulders as Merry continued. ‘There must be marks of their feet on the shore.’

Ferdi nodded and pushed himself upright again, muttering thanks to the quickpost rider.

They led their ponies, testing each step, around the treacherous area, scrambling with relief onto stable ground. Merry and Jay waited with the ponies while Ferdi moved forward, shivering cold forgotten as he concentrated on the story left there for him to read.

Merry saw the hunter’s shoulders stiffen. ‘What is it, Ferdi?’ he called, only to receive a wave in reply. Ferdi went over the ground again, seemed to follow a trail from the clearing a little ways, and then trotted back to them, his face grim.

 ‘I don’t think they were able to save Hilly,’ he said on reaching them. ‘I’ve found no sign of his pony or himself, no marks of his feet and no body dragged away from the edge.’

 ‘Ah,’ Merry sighed, and Jay swallowed hard. ‘But you found signs of Diamond and Farry,’ Merry pressed.

This news did not seem to cheer Ferdi. ‘I did,’ he gritted, ‘but there were signs of others as well. Booted feet, twice the size of proper hobbit feet.’

 ‘Men!’ Jay gasped.

Merry’s hand closed on the hilt of his sword. ‘Ruffians,’ he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Ferdi turned to the quickpost rider. ‘Jay, ride back! Meet the archers and tell them what’s what. Merry and I will follow the trail, and when we find the ruffians I’ll send Merry to Pincup, to the Thain. The Thain and Master will know what to do...’