Chapter 18. Should I Die Before I Wake...

Helpless to intervene, Ferdi watched the stony-faced Ranger bind Will’s hands behind him. Little Rob flung himself upon his brother. ‘Don’t!’ he sobbed. ‘Don’t hang my Will! He’s all I have!’

The Ranger frowned down at Rob, who refused to leave his brother, and pulled another piece of cord from the pouch that hung from his belt. ‘Plenty more where that came from,’ he said.

 ‘He’s just a boy!’ Will protested.

 ‘He should keep better company,’ the Ranger said tonelessly, and to Rob he added, ‘Put your hands behind you.’ Ignoring Rob’s sobbing and Will’s entreaties he bound the little lad, and when the knots were tied to his satisfaction he called sharply, ‘Done!’

 ‘Just about finished here,’ the second Ranger answered, tying off Jack’s rope.

‘Please,’ Ferdi said, ‘He’s just a boy. Don’t hang...’ The rope around his own neck tightened as he tried to balance on the split log they’d stood him on.

 ‘I’d worry more about myself, if I were you,’ the first Ranger said, eyeing the hobbit. ‘You fall off before we kick the log out from under you, and we’ll just leave you to dangle with thanks for saving us the trouble.’ He sounded more ruffian than Ranger, but then, all Men were ruffians, in Ferdi’s estimation. He shouldn’t be surprised at this turn of events.

Merry put his good hand on Ferdi’s shoulder. ‘Steady, cousin,’ he whispered. Ferdi nodded without speaking. He’d caught his balance again, but didn’t know how long he could hold it. His breath came harsh as he struggled to force air past the tightened noose.

Jack balanced on a split log nearby, silver-grey rope around his neck. ‘Please!’ he called.

 ‘Very convenient, that he brought his own rope,’ the first Ranger muttered to the second as he held a log ready for Will. ‘Just the right length.’

 ‘Step up now, or do you want us to haul you into the air?’ the second Ranger said to the youth. Will stepped up; the first Ranger steadied him as his partner threw Will’s rope over a branch and tied a good strong knot.

 ‘Please,’ Jack whispered. ‘Do what you will with me, but let the lads go. I led them into this. It’s not their fault...’

 ‘What I will or no matters not at all,’ the first Ranger said. ‘The King has issued an edict barring Men from the Shire. Don’t tell me you didn’t know...’

Tears stood in Jack’s eyes as he looked from Rob to Will and back again. ‘I am so very sorry, my lads,’ he whispered, ‘for all the good it does.’

 ‘No good at all, I’m afraid,’ Ferdi rasped.

 ‘We’re ready, sir,’ the first Ranger said respectfully, stepping back.

Ferdi’s eyes widened to see Pippin standing there, sadly looking down the line of the doomed.

 ‘Pippin!’ he gasped.

The Thain shook his head, his eyes unreadable. ‘Ferdi,’ he sighed. ‘You of all hobbits ought to have known better than to throw in your lot with ruffians!’

 ‘I didn’t!’ Ferdi said, but he could hardly get the words out with the rope so tight around his throat.

 ‘You let them go,’ Pippin said.

 ‘No!’ Ferdi tried to shout, but the rope was choking him, cutting off his air, cutting off his life...

Pippin reached out, put his hands on Ferdi’s shoulders, and shook him, repeating, ‘Let them go, Ferdi! Let them go...’

Ferdibrand’s throat threatened to close completely, making it impossible to breathe. He heard Pippin shout his name again, felt himself shaken, and cracked his eyes open to protest. In another moment Pippin would knock him from his teetering stance...

 ‘Ferdi! Let it go!’ Pippin repeated desperately, trying to win through to his cousin.

 Ferdi thrashed against the restraining arms that held him, and then was ominously still.

 ‘Ferdi?’ Pippin whispered, his hands tightening on his cousin’s shoulders.

 ‘It’s like a bad dream,’ Ferdi murmured, and lay quiet once more.

 ‘It is a bad dream, Ferdi! Let it go! Breathe, cousin!’

 Ferdi took a gasping breath and mumbled, ‘You’re one to talk.’  All around him he could smell the pungent odour that meant Pippin had suffered one of his bad spells.

 ‘Breathe, Ferdi!’ Tolly hissed in his ear, and Healer Fennel added the healers’ rhythmic chant about “slow, steady breaths... in... out... in... out...”

Ferdi found himself caught in the rhythm as the aroma and tingle of the ointment loosened muscles knotted to strangling tightness: in... out... in...

His throat opened as the rope of the dream fell away, and his mouth gaped to welcome the life-giving air.

 ‘That’s it,’ Pippin said. ‘That’s it, Ferdi.’

Ferdi strove to open his eyes, to make one final plea. ‘He’s just a boy,’ he whispered.

He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder and heard Pippin say, ‘All will be well, Ferdi. You have my word.’

He had Pippin’s word, and so he relaxed as the Ranger kicked the log out from under his feet and the world fell away.

***

 ‘A dream?’ Merry said at Pippin’s shoulder. ‘What is it, that has such a terrible effect? That he should nearly strangle in his sleep...’ He was not questioning the power of the dream, of course, having struggled with dreams himself, but rather its underpinning.

Pippin sighed and sat back on his heels. His glance swept the faces around him, and he nodded. ‘I have a fair idea,’ he said, ‘but it’s not fit for the ears.’ He murmured low, ‘Just a boy...’

 ‘What was that?’ Merry said, and Pippin looked to him with sharpening gaze.

 ‘Didn’t you say that one of the “ruffians” was a young boy, not even as tall as Ferdibrand?’ he said.

 ‘And one was a youth,’ Merry confirmed. ‘Not very old, but old enough...’

Pippin nodded grimly. ‘Old enough,’ he said.

He was constrained from saying more by the fact that hanging was not common knowledge in the Shire, a result of deliberate effort on the part of Master, Mayor, and Thain. Hobbits knew, of course, that Men were banned from the Shire, but most did not know how the edict was enforced. To be cast out of the Shire was the worst punishment a hobbit could conceive of, and no hobbit would think of returning, should he suffer such a penalty. Mourning, he’d make a new life outside the Shire, in the Breeland perhaps, or possibly he’d die of his grief. To a hobbit’s way of thinking, a man caught inside the Bounds and shown the border was unlikely to return.

Elessar knew Men better, of course.