Chapter 3. Power

Ferdi thought he might have been able to convince Farry that he was responsible for his own astounding accuracy in shooting, if only they’d had more time in the moment. But they were interrupted by the tolling of the alarm bell in the courtyard of the Smials.

‘Muster!’ Tolly snapped.

Ferdi shifted focus immediately, and standing to his feet, he slung his bow case and quiver over his shoulder as he took full possession of his bow from the lad. ‘Go,’ he said to the other two hobbits of escort. ‘Gather what news ye may, and meet me at the Thain’s study.’ That was where Pippin and the Steward, Reginard, would likely be forming their strategy for whatever emergency had arisen. Detailed maps lined one wall, and the various Heads would be summoned as needed to the study for general orders before the Thain or his representative rode out at the head of the Muster. He squeezed Farry’s shoulder. ‘I’ll take care o’ the lad.’

The escort nodded and together broke into a run, heading to the corner of the stables, and then out of sight.

‘Take up your bow and quiver,’ Ferdi said to Farry, who was staring at him with wide eyes. Ferdi knew, from a conversation he’d overheard between Pippin and Diamond, that the sound of the alarm bell had been burned into the child’s memory the previous year, in the time of the disastrous wildfire that had taken several lives and had nearly claimed the life of Farry’s own father. ‘We don’t want to leave deadly weapons lying about for any young hobbit to find after the emergency’s done.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Farry answered, with all the precision of a Brandybuck of the Hall. He scooped up his quiver and bow case and slung them over his shoulder in fair imitation of Ferdi’s earlier move, then picked up his small bow in one hand.

‘Good,’ Ferdi said. ‘Now, follow me.’ Turning his head slightly to make sure the lad stayed with him, he moved to the target and pulled out the three shafts, holding them in his hand rather than putting the noisome things away in a quiver. There was no time to clean them, but it wouldn’t do to leave them lying about. The target, harmless in itself, could stay where Hilly had fastened it for the time being. Keeping close to the wall, he walked at a pace that suited Faramir’s shorter legs to the end of the stable wall, where he took the precaution of stopping and peering around the corner of the building before proceeding. It wouldn’t do to lead the son of the Thain into danger, seeing that he did not yet know the cause of the alarm or the scope of the emergency.

But all he could see was excited hobbits milling in the courtyard, some armed with bows and spears, some holding the reins of saddled ponies. He nodded to himself and gestured to Farry. ‘Come, lad,’ he said. ‘We’ll go and see what’s what, shall we?’

Ferdi walked and Farry trotted at his side, along the side of the stables to the courtyard and then across the stones to the Smials proper, a Tookish archer and his small shadow. The courtyard was a babble of voices as they thrust their way through, but Ferdi thought he heard the word ‘swine’ from several quarters in the general commotion, and his stomach knotted. Still, his first priority as the head of the Thain’s escort was the safety of the Thain and of Pippin’s family, which meant he must escort the son of the Thain to the security of the inner Smials. Only then could he turn his attention to getting to the bottom of this.

Once inside, they hurried along corridors that were strangely quiet and deserted, all the way to the private quarters of the Thain, deep in the Great Smials. Haldegrim, another of the escort, stood outside the door to the Thain’s study, an indication that the Thain was to be found within. Ferdi exchanged a glance with him and then guided Farry with a gentle push, propelling the lad along the corridor to the private quarters. ‘Your da’s a bit busy at the moment, I should think,’ he said.

‘No doubt,’ was the lad’s answer, and then they were at the door to the Thain’s apartments. Ferdi thrust open the door to find Sandy, the hobbit in charge of the Thain’s and Mistress’s private accommodations and requirements, in the large sitting room just off the entryway.

‘Farry!’ that hobbit said, moving to greet them. Though he was no child-minder, he said to Ferdi, ‘I’ll take him from here. You’re wanted in the Thain’s study.’

Ferdi nodded at that and caught Farry’s eye, demanding the lad’s attention. ‘Put those weapons safely away, now,’ he said soberly (half to Farry, and half to Sandy, if truth be told).

‘I will,’ Farry said.

Ferdi nodded and held out the practice arrows and his own deadly missile to Sandy with an apologetic look. ‘Can you hold these safe for me until I can put them away properly?’ He could scarcely bring himself to meet the hobbitservant’s steady gaze. Their dirty state, considering he’d pulled them from a target fastened over a pile of soiled stable bedding, didn’t seem to fit this well-ordered room with its gleaming furniture, shining brasses, well-brushed rugs, and faint hint of beeswax hanging in the air.

But Sandy took the arrows without a blink, simply saying, ‘Of course, Ferdibrand. I’ll have them ready for you when you ask for them.’ And in all likelihood, they’d be thoroughly cleaned and sporting a fresh coating of wax when the head of escort saw them again.

Ferdi nodded his thanks and turned on his heel to go.

He paused outside the door to the Thain’s study for a quick consultation. ‘Swine,’ Haldi said grimly. ‘Wild swine, tearing up a copse near Greenacres in the direction of Tookbank, or so’s the word brought just now. Chased a farmer and his sons up a tree. They’d been scattering seed in a field, and got to the copse barely ahead of the savage creatures.’ 

‘Not just mean, but hungry, from the sound of it,’ Ferdi said with a shiver.

Haldi shook his head. ‘Puts me in mind of old Bilbo and his Fifteen birds in five fir trees,' he said, and gave a humourless laugh.

Ferdi simply nodded, his mouth too dry for speech. Haldi rapped twice, opened the door and ushered him through. 

Hilly was already there, hand splayed on the large, detailed map on the wall as if to get his bearings. Then he moved his finger from the Great Smials to a point some way to the west, where he stopped and tapped. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘They’d find good cover here.’ Ferdi wasn’t surprised to see him there, and apparently armed with recent reports; Hilly was one of the most efficient information-gatherers he knew. ‘From the farmer’s report, it’s a group of males – wicked tusks, but a group, not a solitary older fellow. It's nearly farrowing time, so Reni thinks young males are more likely to have attacked than a sounder of females... he did say ten, perhaps as many as a dozen.’ 

Pippin looked up. ‘Ah, Ferdi,’ he said. ‘Word is, this was the sounder that Reni went out hunting last week, but they’d moved.’

‘And now we know where they moved to,’ Steward Reginard added. ‘They’ve grown bolder – they’re now hunting hobbits, from the latest report. That farmer – who was the last to climb a tree after seeing his sons safely aloft – was lucky to get out of their reach, and as it was, they tried to dig around the tree where he found refuge as if they thought they might bring him down.’

Ferdi, seeing Pippin pale at this awful pronouncement, moved forward in support, but the Thain shook off his steadying hand. 

‘I am well,’ he said, straightening. ‘So, Regi, we’ll mount a hunting party and be off within the hour.’

‘O aye,’ Reginard said with a sharp look for the Thain, ‘that we will – but not yourself, Sir.’

Ferdi had seldom seen Pippin caught by surprise, but his younger cousin certainly spluttered at this. ‘Not my – not – nonsense! The Thain leads the Muster!’

‘No,’ Regi countered. When Pippin would have continued to protest, the Steward shook his head, took the younger hobbit by the arm and gave Pippin a hearty shake. ‘No,’ he repeated, speaking over the Thain’s objections. ‘It’s too dangerous.’

‘But –’

‘But – naught! Absolutely not!’ Regi snapped. ‘The Tooks nearly lost one Thain to wild swine, as Ferdi here can tell you – and because the Thain was there in the thick of it, where he ought not to have been, we did lose several valuable hobbits, Sir, as a matter of fact, hobbits that were worth any ten of you!’ He stared grimly into the Thain’s eyes as he added quietly, ‘You’ll only put your escort and the hunters in danger if you insist.’

Silence fell in the room, but Reginard did not retreat from the stance he’d so boldly declared.

Hilly and Ferdi stared at each other, and then they turned their eyes back to Thain and Steward, standing nearly toe-to-toe in their confrontation. Ferdi found himself fighting to breathe – it seemed as if there were not enough air in the room to sustain life.

‘The Thain leads the Muster,’ Pippin repeated in a mild tone – the tone that, to Ferdi (and not to him alone), meant that the issue was decided, that the Thain would be riding out, surrounded by his escort, to lead the hunters in the chase. Mercy help them.

‘Not this time,’ Regi said, equally quiet. ‘The Tooks will back me in this. They’ll take a dim view of you leading the Muster in this situation.’ Pippin appeared prepared to continue arguing, but then the Steward added, ‘Don’t force the hobbits of your escort to lay down their lives for you, as Ferumbras did before you.’

‘I –‘ Pippin said. ‘I –‘ he repeated, less strong. He fumbled to a stop, staring in consternation at his steward, and then he wrenched his gaze from Regi’s intense glare, looking first to Ferdi, then to Hilly, and then, oddly enough, at his toes, as if he needed to make sure that the fur on his feet was in proper order. Ferdi watched him take a deep breath before he raised his chin once more.

‘Let the hunters do their job,’ Regi said, still quietly. ‘It’s what you’re paying them for.’

‘I see,’ Pippin replied. The silence stretched for a breath. Then two. He turned suddenly to Hilly and said, ‘Go over the information you’ve gathered with the hunters. Tell them your conclusions, and let them know that I want a full report on their return.’ He looked to Ferdi and then back to Hilly again, adding, ‘I won’t be riding out.’

‘Yes, Sir,’ Hilly said, and he was gone in the next breath.

As the door closed behind the escort, Pippin sagged, and Regi took hold of him, nodding to Ferdi to offer his arm on Pippin’s other side. Between them, they guided Pippin to the chair behind his desk and eased him down.

‘I am well,’ Pippin muttered.

‘Of course you are, Thain,’ Regi agreed. His look to Ferdi conveyed the rest of his thought. And we’re going to keep you that way. To Ferdi, he said, ‘What are you waiting for?’

Ferdi hardly needed further urging to take his leave. To Haldi, outside the Thain’s study, he said, ‘You’re on duty until I return.’

‘O aye,’ Haldi said. But Ferdi saw some of the tension go out of the hobbit at the unspoken message – the Thain would not be going out on the hunt – before Haldi straightened again and said, ‘Good hunting to you!’

‘O aye,’ Ferdi echoed. He thought perhaps Good luck! might be a more fitting sentiment, or more to the point, Don’t get yourself killed, now, cousin! – but that was neither here nor there. At least he had experience with hunting the wild boar, which was more than the rest of the hobbits of the Thain's present-day escort could say, trained and well-honed hunters though they may be – but the dark memories of Thain Ferumbras' disastrous hunt still haunted his dreams, all these years later.

In the courtyard, he found his own Dapple saddled and blessed Old Tom, the stable master. Though her muzzle was sprinkled with grey, and her dappled coat bore scattered scars, he knew he could trust her more than any other pony he might ride to hold steady against a charging menace.

As he swept the assembled hobbits with his gaze, his lips thinned into a grim line. ‘You!’ he said, pointing to one group of richly dressed Smials Tooks, excitedly chattering as they boasted to one another and checked over and compared their expensive-looking, finely crafted bows. ‘And you – and you!’ He had their attention, for certain, as he singled out the gentry from the common hunters. From their proud manner, they likely expected him to assign them to ride at point, in the position of greatest danger. But the Steward – and bitter experience – had shown him the way forward. ‘Stand down!’ he said now.

A protest arose, but he shouted them down, and the other hobbits of the escort there, Tolly, Hilly, Adelard and his brother Isenard, added their voices.

‘Why should you have all the excitement and diversion?’ someone shouted from the crowd, and another answered, ‘Aye! Why should they have all the glory!’

‘Hunters only,’ Ferdi said, and then he amended, ‘Trained hunters only! This isn’t a joy-ride, nor is it a riding picnic-party! Thain's hunters – by the order of the Thain!’

But much grumbling arose, and Ferdi had the feeling he was about to be over-borne, that even calling upon the name of the Thain would not be enough to deter them. Then Hilly spoke over the murmurs, and at his words, the crowd fell silent, as he snapped, ‘Tell it to the Steward!’

Someone muttered, and Hilly swung to confront him. ‘Well?’ he said, steel in his voice and ice in his gaze.

Gentlehobbits and sport-hunters moved uneasily under the escort’s quiet intensity. Very Thainly of you, cousin, Ferdi thought to himself. If this business of being Thain doesn’t work out for Pippin, and Regi still refuses to take on the job, perhaps you can do the honours. But all he said aloud was, ‘Time is wasting.’ And to Pippin’s chief hunter, he added, ‘Reni! Are you and your hobbits ready?’

‘We are!’ Renilard said stoutly. He was already in the saddle, bow and quiver on his back, a heavy spear in his gloved hand. His small group of hunters followed his lead and mounted their ponies, as did the hobbits of the Thain’s escort, also hunters by training and experience. Ferdi took the boar spear Old Tom held out to him with a nod of thanks and then signalled Renilard to lead them out.

Even though the gentlehobbits weren’t at all pleased about staying behind, one of them raised his bow and shouted after the small band of grim-faced riders. ‘Good hunting!’ Others echoed the sentiment, and as the hunting party rode out of the courtyard, a great cheer went up behind them. What the gentry lacked in practice and prowess, they certainly made up for in noise, Ferdi thought sourly. Ah, well. At least they’d be among the living at the end of this day, and into the bargain, they’d put no working hobbits at risk.

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Author’s note: Some text taken from Chapter 6, “Out of the Frying Pan into the Fire” from The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien.

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