5. Moon
after Yule
(The Previous January: Moon after Yule)
The cheerful crackle of the fire in the study at Bag End should have been
warming, but there was a chill in Pippin's bones that the brightest fire and
the warmest cup could not dispel.
'The curse of the Brandybucks?' Sam said. 'Sounds like a tale to be told by the
Yuletide hearth for the amusement of tweens.'
'I wish it were merely a tale,' Pippin said. He reached down to unwind the
bandages that covered the healing wound on his leg. 'Take a look. Those are
real teeth.'
'A wolf?' Sam guessed.
'Wolves hunt in packs. A lone wolf would never attack a pony and rider, you
know that, Sam,' Pippin said in irritation. His eyes went over the shelves of
books again, but he shook his head. There was nothing on this, there, he knew.
The Brandybucks had kept it a close secret.
'The Witch King...' Sam mused. 'He was an enemy of Gondor for a long time
before Merry and Eowyn slew him. Perhaps there would be something in the
library there...?'
'Brilliant, Sam!' Pippin exclaimed. 'Why didn't I think of it before? We must
send a message to Aragorn!' He got up and limped over to the desk, looked to
Sam, and at his nod, drew forth a pen and paper.
He wrote quickly, blotted the paper, then handed it to Sam. The other read
slowly, pulling at his lip, then nodded. 'Put in the solution, as well,' he
said. 'Death by a sword in the heart, at moonrise, during the Change. Ask if
there is any other way to deal with this, short of Merry's... murder.' His eyes
filled with tears at the thought, and he dashed them away impatiently, adding,
'Mr Frodo was never one to shirk from his duty, and I won't either... but I
wish there were a way to save Mr Merry.'
'We'll save him, all right,' Pippin said softly. 'Even if we have to kill him
to do it.'
'I don't think you ought to take the letter yourself,' Sam said seriously.
'You'd have to pass too close to Buckland to get it to the King's messenger.'
'I don't want to entrust this to the quick post,' Pippin argued.
'Then I'll take it,' Sam said quietly.
'You do that, Sam,' a voice said from behind them. Rose stood in the doorway,
her face pale. 'I came to ask if you wanted more tea,' she said.
'How much have you heard, Rose?' Sam asked, his disquiet showing on his face.
'Enough, Sam,' she said, crossing to him and kissing him on the cheek. 'Enough
to know that Mr Pippin ought to stay as far from Buckland as he can. And that
you must travel only by day, and preferably when the Moon is as thin a sliver
as he ever gets to be. And don't let that... thing get a taste of your
blood, or you'll have to stay away from Buckland as well!'
'Ah, Rosie,' he said. 'How did I ever deserve a lass like you?'
'You didn't,' she said firmly, 'but you can keep working at it until you do
deserve me.' She was rewarded with his chuckle, but then she said, 'The moon is
waning now, do you think it is safe?'
'It's still too near full for my liking,' Pippin said. 'I'd wait a week, if I
were you, Sam, and travel to Bree after it's passed the half, and get back
before it waxes past the half again.'
'I think you're right,' Sam said. 'After all, I've got Rose, and Elanor to
think of.'
'That you do,' Rose said firmly. 'Now how about a fresh pot of tea? I've got
some scones to go with it, if they haven't gone cold by now.'
***
The letter went off to Gondor, and seeing as how it was one of the Ringbearers
who delivered it to the guardpost, it went off at best speed.
Less than a month had elapsed, and the moon had passed its full for January and
was shrinking again when the answer came back from the King.
Pippin was sitting in the Thain's study, meticulously copying out old records,
when Sam was shown in. Thain Paladin looked up as well, and seeing the look
that passed between the two, he rose from his chair.
'I assume this is that matter that Adelard spoke to me about,' he said quietly.
'Yes, Father,' Pippin said.
The Thain nodded. 'Are we any closer to a solution?' His eyes reflected his
sister's sadness; he knew that soon she must lose her only child, and it
grieved his heart that his own son must needs be the hand to do the deed.
'Yes, Sir,' Pippin said.
'I will leave you to it, then,' Paladin said, and left the room. He could not
countenance the murder of one hobbit by another, not even under these
circumstances. In this case, Thains had turned a blind eye to necessity for
centuries, now.
Sam came over to Pippin's desk and sat down. He was pale, but he drew a letter
from his waistcoat and unfolded it.
'The quick post messenger was over-awed to be delivering a message from the
King,' he said wryly. 'All those seals and things, you know. At least he was
too awed to try to peek inside. And the King had his Messenger ride up from
Sarn Ford to the southern border of the Shire, rather than by way of Bree and
to the Brandywine Bridge, past Buckland.'
'He's being very careful,' Pippin said.
'You'll see why,' Sam said, and shoved the letter across the desk.
Pippin read silently, his shoulders drooping at the last. 'No other way...' he
breathed.
'He says he'll come,' Sam said. 'That's some comfort. You don't have to be a
kin-slayer; the King will do the deed himself. All we have to do is trick the
Brandybucks into letting us take Merry, before the moon waxes too much. Once
we've got him, we'll keep him captive until the right time, and then...'
'Make an end,' Pippin said, his heart sick.
Sam went on. They might as well finish the planning now, as later. 'Aragorn
said to meet him at a particular place in Buckland,' he said. 'Do you know it?'
Pippin smiled grimly. 'I know it well,' he said. 'It's not far from the High
Hay, but in a place the Bucklanders don't go very often. He says he can climb
over the Hedge, he's done it before... now there's a story I'd like to
hear... and meet us there for the waxing of the February moon.'
'They call it the Wolf Moon,' Sam mused. 'Sounds about right, don't it?'
'Aye,' Pippin said grimly. 'That it does.'
