Chapter 9. Encounter with Shadow

Early that morning...

'Perfect hunting weather,' Ferdi said as they rode through the curling mist. It was a good thing they rode knee to knee or he might lose Tolly in this so-perfect weather. On the other hand, with the thick mist, the ducks would be slow to rise this morning, and probably quacking loudly from time to time to keep close together. Easy to find, and as for shooting, well, the phrase sitting ducks came to mind.

The ponies seemed to want to keep close together, as a matter of fact, this morning. They were acting a bit spooky, truth be told, and Ferdi'd had to speak sternly to his mount, and bear Tolly's jibes that he wasn't so good a pony trainer as might be thought, if the ponies he trained turned out to be so jumpy as this.

'It's the fog,' Ferdi said. 'They see shapes in it.'

'I see shapes in't myself,' Tolly said, 'but you won't see me jumping out of my skin!'

'I'd like to see you jump out of your skin sometime,' Ferdi said. 'It ought to be an interesting sight. Would your skin stand there, in a Tolly shape, waiting for you to jump back in, or would it fall empty as a limp sack to the ground?'

Tolly made a sound of disgust. 'Go on with you and your nonsense!'

They rode in silence for a moment, and then Ferdi ventured once more, 'Good hunting weather.'

'O aye,' Tolly answered with a grin and a swig from his flask, that he'd taken from under his jacket. 'Perfect!' He extended the flask to Ferdi. 'A little nip to keep the chill away?'

'Don't mind if I do,' Ferdi said. He took a mouthful of the stuff, thick and sweet and heady, rolled it around and handed back the flask with an appreciative nod. 'That's good!' he said. 'Where did the likes of yourself find such a thing?'

'Mum,' Tolly said. 'She handed it to me as I went out into the cold, dark fog, told me not to catch my death of cold.'

'Your da's best medicinal brandy, I gather,' Ferdi said.

'Second best,' Tolly said with a sniff, putting the flask away again, to Ferdi's regret.

'Second best!' Ferdi said. 'How would you know?'

Tolly snorted. 'That would be telling,' he said, and then despite the glow of the liquid sunshine he'd swallowed, warming his insides, he shivered, and then pointed up the great hill they were skirting. 'What's that?'

'What's what?' Ferdi said.

'Drink dulled your wits?' Tolly said, paying no mind to the fact that Ferdi'd had no more than a swallow. 'That!'

Ferdi peered up the hill with a shiver of his own. 'Mist,' he said. 'That's all.' His pony tossed its head and rolled an uneasy eye, and he soothed its neck absently, even as the hairs rose on his own neck.

'Nay,' Tolly insisted, pulling his pony to a jittering stop. Ferdi's pony planted its feet to stop as well, not willing to stir a foot further without its companion. 'Something moving.'

'A shadow,' Ferdi guessed, squinting his eyes to look through the twisting fog. Nevertheless, he pulled his bow from the quiver on his back, and strung it, with strangely fumbling fingers.

'There's something there, upon the hillside,' Tolly hissed. 'Don't you see it?'

'Just a shadow,' Ferdi said, pulling an arrow from his quiver and dropping it. He swore at himself in a whisper, taking another arrow with rather more care and fitting it to his bow. His hands felt like ice, and the muscles in his back clenched in a sudden, violent shiver.

Tolly, however, had kneed his reluctant mount around and was forcing the poor pony up the broad hillside. 'Hoi, there!' he cried. 'Who is it? Who's there?'

'Fool of a Took,' Ferdi grumbled. 'Chasing after shadows...' He raised his voice to call after Tolly. 'Chasing shadows! When we've ducks a-waiting for us just a little way...!'

Securing bow and arrow in one hand, he pulled his pony around to follow the other, and found himself in a fight for control. The poor beast danced under him, snorting and backing away from his intended course. He leaned forward and applied plenty of leg, resorting at last to drumming the pony's ribs with his heels as the mist threatened to swallow Tolly from sight. 'It's just a hill,' he said between his teeth. 'We've been up and down these Green Hills many's the time...' He punctuated this thought with a vicious kick, completely unlike himself, but the panic was rising within him as Tolly disappeared up the hill. 'Go!'

The pony jumped forward, and Ferdi kept it moving by force of will, iron hand, seat, and legs all working together. The sweat began to pour over his face in part from the effort, in part a cold, shivery sweat that he could feel popping from his forehead. It stung, running into his eyes, but between the bow and the reins he had no hands free to wipe his face. Blinking grimly, he forged on. 'Tolly!'

The climb seemed to go on forever, step by unwilling step. Surely the Sun must be strengthening soon, to light the sky, to burn away this cursed fog.

He heard a pony shriek in fear, somewhere ahead, near the top of the hill, and the drumming of hoofs, fading fast away. 'Tolly!' A part of him wanted to run away as well, to loose the rein and give the pony its head, to flee this haunted place at top speed, but for the fact that Tolly had come this way... and something else drew them as well, all against his will, and the pony's.

And then they crested the hill and his pony stopped, feet as immovable as the rocks half-buried in the hillside, body trembling violently, not to be moved by anything Ferdi could do.

'Tolly!' he shouted again, but the fog seemed to muffle his words, so that they went no further than an arm's length ahead of him. Strange, that the fog should be so thick up here as well as in the valley. The hilltop ought to be clear, the stars shining above, an island standing in a sea of mist. Perfect place to stand, to see anything moving upon the hillsides surrounding, by the light of the stars. Perfect place to survey the countryside, save the valleys and marshes beyond, drowned in foggy dew.

Blinking away sweat and mist, he peered ahead. He thought he saw a shape on the ground, though it might have been just a large rock, but it might have been Tolly, thrown from his pony. He slipped from the saddle, took a step forward. 'Tolly?'

Shadow loomed suddenly before him. His pony pulled suddenly from his nerveless grasp, a warm, breathing presence there at his shoulder, and then not there any more. He was alone, and shaking with a deathly chill.

'Tolly?' he whispered, to be answered by an ominous hiss.

Bagginssssss...

Somehow he managed to lift his bow, though his hands shook so dreadfully, it was nearly impossible to fit the arrow in place. 'W-w-who's there?' he chattered, his teeth making an audible clicking as he forced out the words.

Again that terrible hiss. Baggins... Where is... Baggins?

Bow and arrow fell to the ground as Ferdi raised impotent hands to shield himself against the onslaught of the chill wind that blew from the towering Shadow before him, Shadowy figure of a Man, seated on the tallest, blackest horse he'd ever seen, and blacker than the darkest night.

'N-no Bagginses here,' he stuttered, cringing away.

'Where?' the Shadow insisted, and Ferdi's cloak fluttered in a fell breeze as his guts congealed in frozen dread.

He didn't want to answer, but something forced him to raise his head to meet the Creature's faceless, hooded gaze, to raise his shaking hand to point northward, to open his mouth, to speak. 'H-h-hobbiton,' he managed, and then the earth spun away beneath his feet, and he was falling into deep, cold water, drowning in fear and despair.