Chapter One

How could one little lad move so fast? That was all Eglantine Took could think of as she glanced around the kitchen, even looking in the apple barrel to be sure Pippin wasn't hiding from her and snacking at the same time. He was tiny, yet he could be out of sight in an instant. She'd never seen a child so likely to get into mischief, and she'd already raised three daughters.

But now her son had disappeared. She'd only taken her eyes off him for a moment; she was already behind with her chores and there would be nothing in the house for elevenses if she didn't hurry up. A beef pie would do nicely, but she had to move quickly before the clay oven cooled too much from her bread baking. The housemaid was far too occupied with her own cleaning, and Pippin's sisters were at the Bolgers' neighboring farm for their lessons, so there was no one to watch the youngest Took while she worked.

Now, Pip, I want to you stay in the kitchen so I can see you, she'd said, careful to make eye contact with her son as she said it. Sometimes Pippin would act like he was listening, even when he was distracted by something else; Eglantine often had to take him by the shoulders and turn him to face her while she spoke to him.

She thought he'd heard her this time. He'd stayed close by and chattered contentedly as she chopped meat and vegetables, rolled out pie crust, and made gravy, but had gone silent at some point when she was assembling the pie. She'd thought nothing of it until she put the pie in the oven then turned around only to find the kitchen empty.

She darted out of the kitchen, disturbed by the silence and determined to find her wayward child before he caused any major destruction. She'd long ago given up keeping Pippin from minor mischief.

"Tansy, have you seen Pippin?" she asked as she peeked in the drawing room.

"No, Mistress, not since second breakfast," the little housemaid answered earnestly. "Is he missing?"

"I was hoping he'd only wandered away from the kitchen, but I'm not sure," Eglantine said ruefully. "I'm going to search in the garden. Keep an eye on the oven, will you, and call for me if you see him."

"Yes, Mistress," Tansy said, and went back to cleaning the fireplace as Eglantine went outside.

Pippin was allowed out in the garden without supervision, though he'd been given strict instructions not to pull up any plants or eat anything without asking. The garden was bordered by a low wall, so it was separate from the farmyard and therefore safe.

But he wasn't in the garden. Eglantine frowned and called his name, then went into the farmyard, hoping her son was merely distracted by pretty flowers or a brightly colored bug and hadn't taken it in his head to play with the bull or wallow with the pigs.

She trotted along the barn, looking into each open bay as she passed. There was no sign of Pippin. By the time she reached the last bay, her heart was pounding in time with her footsteps on the flagstones.

A flash of white halfway across the field caught her eye as she rounded the corner. One of the geese was hissing at something she couldn't see, its wings spread wide and neck arched in its agitation.

Eglantine might have gone by- that particular goose was even more hostile than most of its kind, and made a habit of persecuting chickens, squirrels, even mice- but a shriek stopped her in her tracks.

The goose dove at its victim, and Eglantine went after it. Because the scream had come from Pippin.

He'd been hidden from her sight by the goose's wings as he ran from the bird, and she assumed he'd been looking at the little gaggle of goslings that were scurrying away from the scene. She didn't care. Something was attacking her baby. That was the only thing that mattered.

She'd never run so fast in her life, flying over the grass like she had wings. The goose loomed larger and larger in her sight, all brilliant white wings and scrambling orange feet against the green of the field as it caught up with her screaming son.

Eglantine had never subdued an attacking goose. She had no idea how to do it, so she seized the bird's neck and threw it aside, as far away from Pippin as she could manage. It wasn't much, and the effort overbalanced her- she'd forgotten how heavy an adult goose could be. She fell to her knees in a tangle of skirts then scrambled back to her feet, scooping Pippin up as she did.

He kicked at her in his panic but Eglantine couldn't soothe him, because the goose was also intent on defending its babies. It launched itself at her, hissing and beating at her with its enormous wings. She yelled. Pippin screamed.

The noise didn't seem to bother the goose, so Eglantine did the next best thing. She ran, clutching her baby to her breast as she tore through the barnyard and into the house. She thought the goose might have followed her about halfway before it lost interest, but she was too concerned with her escape to notice.

Tansy came running at the noise and nearly crashed into them as Eglantine burst through the door. "Mistress, what's happening?" she cried, her eyes wide with fear as she bent to pick up the dust pan she'd dropped.

"One of the geese attacked Pippin," Eglantine said over Pippin's shoulder once she had her breath back. Her son clung to her like he would never let go, legs around her waist, arms twined about her neck, coppery head buried in the crook of her neck. He shivered with each sobbing breath. She rubbed his back gently and tried to calm him. "It's all right, darling," she whispered. "Mama's here. You're safe. You're safe." He whimpered when she patted the right side of his back and she hastily moved her hand. "Tansy, fetch Mistress Lavender," she said to the maid. "I want a healer to look at Pippin. And send someone to fetch Paladin. He's in the east field with the cattle. Hurry up," she said when the maid looked reluctant.

"The goose is still out there, Mistress," Tansy said, shrinking away from the door as if she expected a murderous goose to come through it at any moment.

"Then go out the back," Eglantine snapped, wanting to yell but knowing it would upset Pippin even more.

Tansy must have heard the simmering fury in her voice, because she darted away without further protest. Eglantine sighed in mingled exasperation and relief, and turned her attention the crying child in her arms.

oOoOo

A/N: Poor Pippin. I'm sorry I torture my characters like this. I swear; they make me do it. I'll try not to make you wait too long for the next chapter.