Chapter 17: Beware the Wolf in Darkness Born, part 2

11 Afteryule, S.R. 1312

Adalgrim fell silent then, and for so long that at first Bilbo thought he had fallen asleep.

"Chop?" he asked.

His cousin gave a start. "I'm sorry, Bilbo! I was just thinking." His eyes were distant.

"Were you frightened?" It was hard to imagine Chop being frightened of anything. Chop was just about the most Tookish Took Bilbo knew of among his many maternal relations.

"My heart was right down in my toes, cousin," was the surprisingly serious response. "I've never heard such a sound in my life before, and I hope never to hear it again."

"What happened next?"

"Stopping to rest, or even stopping long enough to get something from our saddlebags to eat was out of the question. We knew that we were getting close to at least some of the wolves--the howls were too close for them to be far away...

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...Adalgrim's heart was pounding. He glanced over at Herry and Hildibold who rode beside him. They looked as terrified as he felt.

Then came a shout from the front of the line: his Uncle Isumbras—"That way, lads!" he called, and urged his pony into a trot, a dangerous thing in all the snow. The others did the same. Adalgrim gave a look to his left where he saw the distant shadows of the rest of the company increasing their speed as well.

In spite of the fact that the sky had already begun to darken, the snow made it easier to see. They followed the tracks up over a hill, and below them the scene was spread out before them: a small farm surrounded by wolves and a bloody scene of dead sheep in a pen, a hobbit holding a flaming brand, doing his best to hold the wolves at bay, and from the windows of the small farmhouse, the screams of the mother and children as they could see the farmer's danger. The wolves were beginning to lose their fear of the fire, and his burning torch could not last much longer.

But Uncle Isumbras did not allow them to hesitate—he urged them all forward, and unslung his bow. As soon as they were close enough, he loosed an arrow.

It took the wolf nearest the farmer, and it fell with a horrible cry. The wolves turned.

Perhaps it was that the wind turned as well, or perhaps it was simply seeing the predators turning in their direction, but suddenly several of the ponies became skittish, and more than one hobbit was thrown from his mount. Herry was among those who were unseated, and Adalgrim only just barely kept control of his own pony.

But crouched low, the wolves had begun to move towards the hobbits. They had forgotten now about the farmer, who took the chance to run back to his house. He was seen by one wolf, which turned to pursue him, and he scarcely made it. If his wife had not been watching and opened the door at just the right instant, and slamming it behind him, he would have been caught. If it had been only a few feet closer when it made for him he would never have been saved. The wolf howled its frustration and reared up on its back legs to claw at the door, leaving deep gouges. Then as if it realised the rest of the pack was not with it, it turned and ran to join them.

Then suddenly there came another sound, the sound of a horn!  In the distance Adalgrim could see a line of hobbits a-foot moving toward the farm from the other direction. The horn blew loudly, and there were the sounds of shouts and yells brought on the wind to Adalgrim's ears.

One of the wolves near the rear gave a yelp, and turned, confused. Adalgrim realized it had been hit by a stone. The other hobbits must have been the Brandybucks and the hobbits they had brought with them!

Another wolf yelped, and this one went to the ground, felled by the well-thrown stone.

"Get around to the sides!" Isumbras yelled. They needed to contain the wolves and drive them north. If the wolves were caught on either side, with the Brandybucks behind them they might be able to accomplish that.

The hobbits who were still mounted had been able finally to get their ponies under control; but the ponies of those who had been unmounted had bolted. Herry was still on the ground and the wolves were coming fast.

His heart in his throat, Adalgrim took aim with his bow and saw it hit the wolf nearest Herry so hard that the wolf was tumbled backwards as it fell. The second closest wolf was also hit, and Adalgrim saw that Hildibold had also taken a wolf down. He rode quickly over to Herry and reached down to help him up behind. Riding double with Herry, Hildibold brought his pony back into the line of the other hobbits and Adalgrim followed.

There was another hobbit down. Adalgrim could not see who it was, but the wolves were closing in on whoever it was, and he was terrified that he was going to see a fellow hobbit torn to pieces before his very eyes!

Indeed, one of them had reached the unfortunate fellow and soon had him by the leg. He gave a horrid scream of pain.

Suddenly there was a burst of light, as a mighty voice like thunder cried out "Naur an edraith ammen!"

The wolf withdrew with a howl of pain as a ball of fire struck it squarely in the flank.  Gandalf rode down the hill, his staff pointed before him. The wolves scattered in confusion, and the wizard leaped from his horse, gathered up the injured hobbit and then remounted. He rode quickly to the line of hobbits on their ponies. "Do not allow them to scatter!" Gandalf's voice carried over all the chaos. Adalgrim found himself heartened by the sound of it.

Bows were abandoned for stones. Pelted from behind by the Brandybucks and from either side by the hobbits of the muster, the wolves began to flee in the direction that was desired: north!

Very quickly, lest the wolves turn, Isumbras told off the majority of the muster to continue pursuing them. Hobbits who were unmounted or who had been injured were taken down to the farmhouse to be tended to.

This meant Hildibold had to bear Herry down to the farmhouse. "I'll catch up later, Chop!" he called.

It was nearly half an hour before he did so. Adalgrim had found his Uncle Isengar, who was directing some of them to fall in behind the wolves so that they joined with the hobbits who had been riding to the east of the wolves at the other end. Most of the Brandybucks had been afoot, and would not be able to keep pace with those who were on ponies.

"Uncle 'Gar," Adalgrim said joyfully. "How did you come to be here at just the right moment?"

"It never does to underestimate a wizard, Chop," he said. Isengar was the only one of Adalgrim's uncles who used that name. "We left the village right after tea, but since all of you kept moving, it took us a while to catch up with you! But Gandalf knew right where to come."

Although the hobbits rode as fast as they could, the wolves ran faster, and soon they lost sight of them altogether. Yet it was encouraging to see that the tracks did not veer off, nor were there any signs of one wolf leaving the pack to go in another direction. Adalgrim was beyond exhaustion and light-headed with hunger before they were allowed a brief stop.

They were nearly ready to mount up again when Uncle Isumbras, Gandalf, Hildibold and a few other hobbits who had assisted those who were dismounted or injured or both returned to join the others.

"Uncle Isumbras, how is Herry?" Adalgrim asked. He had gone up to greet the returning hobbits.

"Other than dislocating his knee when he was thrown, he is doing well," his uncle replied. "The farmer's wife has had some training as a healer, though she wed before her apprenticeship was completed. She is taking care of the wounded."

"Who was the hobbit that the wolf got to, Uncle? I could not see who he was."

"That was Inigo Proudfoot. His leg is very badly injured, and Mrs. Puddifoot is not certain if it will heal completely. Most of the others had simple injuries from being thrown from their ponies and will recover well, but there were two among the Brandybucks who were also savaged by the wolves as they attempted to drive them off. One of them may not live."

Adalgrim gave a shudder.

"We cannot afford to rest long. Get some food in you, lad. We shall be mounted up and on our way again inside a half an hour. We cannot allow the wolves a chance to veer West, nor can we take a chance that any of them will separate."

Gandalf shook his head. "That is very unlikely," he said. "These are ordinary wolves, they are not Wargs, and they are loyal to their pack. They would not be in the Shire if they were not starving."

"The old tales," said Isumbras, "claim that wolves are evil creatures!"

"Those the Enemy captured and transformed by foul means are indeed evil creatures of the Dark," replied Gandalf. "Real wolves hate them, as the wargs hate the wolves. When these wolves are in their own place far to the north of here, they are known as noble and loyal creatures. It is this dreadful Winter that has sent them in search of food and brought them to the Shire. Yet while I feel pity for them, they cannot be allowed to rampage over the Shire and harm good hobbits—who are not, after all, their natural food!"

"Enough talk," said Isumbras, looking at the frightened faces of his nephews. "Rest as much as you can, and eat what you can. We've got to be on our way soon!"

The Moon had risen, and he gave enough light upon the snow to make it nearly as bright as mid-day. The pursuing hobbits of the muster could see the tracks of the wolves well enough as they continued straight North. By midnight the trail crossed the East-West Road, and they could see that it had begun to swing slightly to the West.

The wolves had crossed the Water between Frogmorton and Budgeford, for it was quite as frozen as the Brandywine, but they had halted briefly, for the hobbits came across another isolated farm that had been visited by the wolves—though it was still a few hours until the Sun showed her face the lights in the cot were all ablaze, and the farmer and his wife were out looking at the damage done to their chicken coop, which had been destroyed. They had lost many birds, some devoured by the wolves, others escaped in terror.

"They're gone, sir," said the farmer to Uncle Isumbras. "You're not half an hour behind them."

The tracks continued to veer slightly to the West. "We must ride fast," Isumbras said. "We have to get alongside them on the West side, but also behind them. We shall swing out in a curve, and begin to drive them East!"

The farmer had ponies as well, locked securely in the barn along with the family cow and goats. He also had two sturdy sons, one just come of age, the other almost of age. They joined the muster, in spite of their mother's tears.

"Let'em go, Verbena," said the farmer. "It's something that's needful to be done! Or do you want to see them wolves get to Brockenborings where Cherryblossom and the grandbabies bide?"

"Oh mercy!" she cried, "I never thought on that!"

She insisted though that the hobbits remain long enough to each have a sip of hot tea and a few gingerbiscuits—taken ponyback while the sons saddled their ponies. Adalgrim thanked her profusely. He had begun to think he'd never have sup nor bite again.

She gave him a motherly smile, and took the tin mug and the teapot to the next hobbit, as her daughter followed with the basket of gingerbiscuits.

The sons came out of the barn, mounted on their ponies, and the whole troupe of hobbits moved out, riding as quickly as they could—riding all the faster for their brief respite.

It was less than an hour later when they espied their quarry—they had at last drawn even. There were only a few more than a dozen wolves left. Several had been slain in their first encounter.

"We must begin to curve around them. Do not move any closer than your arm can throw!" Isumbras called. "And now we must go slowly. We do not want to get so close that they feel they must attack us."

Gandalf was riding towards the center of the great half-circle they had formed. The ponies moved slowly, but the wolves had stopped, their pack moving closely together. The animals stared at them. Their leader began to growl and move slowly towards the advancing hobbits.

Adalgrim let fly with one of the stones from his pocket. It hit the packleader on the nose, and he gave a yelp of pain. But he only backed up a little bit.

"He is trying to protect the others," called Gandalf. "So long as he stands his ground the others will not flee." The wizard raised his staff and called out once more in that strange tongue, and once more he flung a fireball from the end of his staff. This one did not hit the wolf, but it exploded right in front of him.

With a yowl, he turned and fled, the rest of the pack right behind him—to the East towards the River. The hobbits advanced behind them, not charging the frightened animals, but moving steadily, and the barrage of stones and the occasional fireball encouraged the wolves to keep running. Soon they ran so fast that they outpaced the hobbits, but their tracks continued straight to the River.

The tracks continued on and the hobbits followed; now that it was broad daylight, they could easily see if any broke away from the pack or if the wolves turned aside.

They did not. The tracks led to the Brandywine just North of Girdley Island, and straight across the frozen River.

The hobbits gazed at the tracks, and the solid ice. Isumbras looked at Gandalf. "Should we go after them? What's to stop them from coming back?"

Gandalf shook his head. "They will not return. They are intelligent beasts, and will not wish to become prey themselves—they will remember the opposition they faced. But just to make sure no other foes think the frozen River is a good way to come into the Shire—" He raised his staff one more time, pointed at the center of the Brandywine, and shouted out once more. Then there was the brightest flash yet, and when the hobbits could see once more the ice was broken and steam was rising from the center of the River…

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…"And that's what happened, Bilbo. I have never been so sore and tired and hungry in my life. Uncle led the muster to the Stonebow Inn in Bridgefields, and they put us up. They were only in a little better shape there than at Frogmorton, but they did have plenty of beds and hot tea and some provisions. We rested a couple of days before we headed back. Gandalf left us there and went East, saying he had other friends to check on, and most of the others went back to Tuckborough. Uncle Isumbras was going to go back through the Puddifoot's farm to see about Mr. Proudfoot and Hildibold and the other injured hobbits, but Uncle 'Gar and I came back by way of the Road so we could stop here in Hobbiton. We had to bring Mag and Hom and the other Hobbiton volunteers back, and to explain to the Bolgers why Herry is delayed. And of course, to pick up Aunt Citrine."

Bilbo stared at his older cousin in amazement. "Chop, you're a hero!" he exclaimed. "Why you helped to save the Shire, and you had an Adventure!"

Adalgrim laughed. "If that is Adventure, my dear cousin, you can keep it. Adventures are nasty things that make you late for supper! But of course," he said more soberly, "it was needful, Bilbo. The whole Shire was in danger." He took a deep breath. "It still is. I could wish that Gandalf could have stayed a little longer. I do not know what we'd have done without him." Then his eyes twinkled and Bilbo saw the remnants of his older cousin's mischief in them. "But oh! his fireworks were glorious! I would love to find out if that staff works for anyone besides him!"

Bilbo's eyes went wide. "Chop! You wouldn't have dared!"

Adalgrim wiggled his eyebrows. "You never know what this fool of a Took might do." He ruffled Bilbo's hair and stood up, taking the tray. "You get some rest, Bilbo-lad. We will be a day or so, I expect before Aunt Citrine is ready to go."

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(A/N: This chapter's title comes from the song "Beware the Wolf" by Jon Anderson, and featured on the CD In Elven Lands.)