Chapter 32. A joyful reunion

Time stands still – or seems to – as I watch and wait alongside my grief-stricken companion. Wearied by my recent efforts, I slip into a half-dream, even as my ears remain cocked to take in the sounds around me. But I hear only the soft breathing of the great horse. The sound is reassuring, for in his motionlessness I might otherwise suspect he has been turned to stone, like the trolls in my distant memory.

I do not know how long we stand so, before a new sound brings me back to wakefulness – the sound of a rising wind, along with the sensation of fingers tugging at my mane and tail and ruffling my coat, no longer glossy as it was when we left that marvellous Valley behind but grown increasingly rough and shaggy as I travelled onwards, first with the Company, then alone, and then with the great horse. I raise my head to see heavy clouds scudding overhead, covering the sky where the Sun once shone.

Indeed, the sky is falling! ...or so it appears. Pieces of the clouds seem to be breaking off and blowing past us on the chill wind that has sprung up since the battle with the rogue Men and the mysterious but incredibly timely appearance of the Eagle. I wonder where they all may be now...?

...but as I scan our surroundings, I catch sight of a familiar figure trudging over the hill, leading a horse behind him. I throw my head high and whicker a joyful greeting, and with a quick glance at my companion – still silent and motionless – I break into a rapid trot to meet them.

Upon reaching them, though the wind is blowing from behind me, laden with what I can now see are snowflakes, the smell of the horse reaches me, and I realise it is not the one I knew, who was travelling with the brown wizard when we met. I wonder where that horse might be now, and where this new horse has come from?

But my joy at our reunion crowds out all other thoughts. Friend! My friend! How glad I am to see you! I toss my head, I whicker and snort, I rub my face on my Friend's arm, nibble at his sleeve and revel in the sound of his laughter.

My child, he murmurs in reply. He fondles my ears and then reaches to stroke my jaw. But you saw me not all that long ago... How bravely you battled them, those rogues, though you were sorely outnumbered!

I remember suddenly how the great horse spoke of him earlier as Master of shapes and changes of hue, words that meant nothing to me at the time. But now, in abrupt realisation, I stammer, ...the Bird? The great Bird, that drove away those evil Men? You...?

Even so, he says, and smiles. If I may introduce to you my new friend, Copper...

The horse rests its head upon the wizard's shoulder and puts in, rather shyly, That is what my Master called me – before those Men stole me away from him. While I was with them, I had no name. He finishes, sounding wistful and uncertain, ...but do I even have a name now?

If Copper is the name you know yourself by, then Copper is your name in truth, the brown one says. And we may yet find your Master again. He was travelling on the North Road when the band set upon him and his companions... Now that the rogues are routed and scattered, it will not be a difficulty to travel southwards until we reach the resting place of your Master's party.

He cocks his head as if listening. They are but a few days' walk from here, he adds, now that we have cleared up that little matter of lameness that was plaguing you.

My new acquaintance rubs his long nose up and down against the back of the wizard's shoulder. Such healing! he says in wonder, and adds in a lower tone, They were going to slaughter me and eat my flesh... Truly were they monsters.

I nod, in full agreement with the sentiments he has voiced. I remember the feeling of warmth and restorative power pouring into me from the brown one's hands; and those Men, as I remember them, were cruel and evil beings in word and action and intent, so far as I could perceive them with all my senses.

But my Friend is still speaking. I have missed some of his words, but I hear him say, ...and so I will bring you to your Master, and then I will call my companion to me again, and we will resume our interrupted journey...

What brought you here in the first place? I am bold enough to query. For the Eagle – I mean – for you certainly arrived just in the nick of time!

He smiles. Looking behind, he says. It is a habit of mine, something I learned from my cousin...

Who is not exactly his cousin, as I recall, but a fellow wizard nonetheless. Was not exactly his cousin, rather. Grief washes over me again, and I bow my head.

Steady, Greatheart, the wizard murmurs, as his fingers gently soothe my neck. There are matters beyond your understanding...

And I know that, and all too well, I reply, raising my head higher. But he is dead. And the Voices he gave us have deserted us. We are lost... adrift in a storm... for the snow is falling ever more thickly around us, making it difficult to see, even if my eyes were not dimmed by sorrow.

Nonetheless, the brown wizard says, resting the palm of his hand under my chin and meeting my eyes with a curiously intense gaze of his own. At this point in the journey, you have a Road to guide you. All that is required of you is to follow...

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Note: "looking behind" reflects what Gandalf told the Dwarves and their Burglar after their encounter with the Trolls in The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien.

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