Note to Readers: As I will not have internet access for a few days (though chapters continue to be written, in "Rope"--not so many left, you know!--and in "Flames"--quite a few left, for it looks as if "Flames" may run long, at the rate it's going), look for the next update on Thursday, 6/5, if the Lord allows.


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Chapter 8. Return

Open warfare now existed between the Tooks and the ruffians. Any ruffian who set foot upon the soil of Tookland could expect an arrow through the arm or the leg. The Tooks, shooting from cover, seldom shot to kill their quarry, but the wounds were crippling at any event, and Lotho or whoever was in charge eventually stopped sending Men into Tookland.

Odovacar Bolger had gone into hiding with the rest of his family soon after his son Fredegar, leading a resistance band against the ruffians, had been captured and thrown into the Lockholes. Lotho had seized his estates and as much of his fortune as Odo had been unable to spirit away before his disappearance. At the time, Lotho had congratulated himself upon this addition to his own holdings, even as he railed against Buckland and Tookland for their continued resistance.

Lotho's Big Men continued to grow in numbers and nastiness, and though no one officially went in or out of Tookland, Merimac Brandybuck still slipped in upon occasion, posing as a farmer to cross the Brandywine on the Ferry, riding a farm wagon, loaded with produce for trading, to Maggot's, chatting easily away with the Men he met, bribing them handily with plump chickens or marrows or sacks of potatoes. Once at Maggot's he stood upon the porch, haggling, settled on a price, entered the farmhouse to join the family for their meal... and after dark, a cloaked and hooded figure would slip out through a back window, gliding like a shadow between the trees in the orchard, across the fields to the woods, and on towards Tookland.

Some days later, a Buckland farmer in straw hat, chewing on a stem of grass, would drive his empty wagon back to the Ferry, greeting the Men he met with a somber expression, shaking his head, grumbling about the poor prices folk were paying for good food these days. 'I'm sorry for such a poor showing,' he said on one occasion near the end of September, dropping a silver penny into one ruffian's palm, pretending to quail before him. 'Perhaps when I return with a load of apples I'll do better.'

'Let's hope so,' the ruffian growled. He was in a bad temper because his arm ached where the wound from the Tookish arrow had never properly healed. 'Save me some fat ones,' he said, and the farmer promised faithfully, fat and red, juicy and properly shined, certainly, Sir, and glad to do it. In all, the farmer was cringing and fawning enough to mollify him, and he waved him through to the Ferry landing.

Ferdibrand, returning from the meeting, was immediately shown to the Thain's study with his report. Standing straight before the ornate desk, he said, 'Word is that there's a new Shirriff with a scar on his cheek.'

'Where?' the Thain demanded.

'Bywater,' Ferdi said. 'He matches the description of the outcast.' The Thain nodded. Nothing was sacred to Lotho Baggins, it seemed. He knew how to recruit loyal followers, for certain. The outcast would never have been able to get into the Shire, otherwise, much less stay there. Most of the Shirriffs served reluctantly, from all reports, but there were enough loyal to Lotho for one reason or another, plus the ruffians, to keep the others in line.

'What else did he say?'

'The ruffians have grown bolder, and they serve someone they call "Sharkey", someone newly arrived in the Shire. Or at least, they give the impression that this Sharkey's orders are to blame for all the latest mischief.'

' "Sharkey",' Paladin mulled the name. It meant nothing to him. 'A new hireling of Pimple's?'

'Merimac didn't know, but he didn't get that impression,' Ferdibrand answered. 'It's curious, but he said it is almost as if...' he scratched his head, puzzled, 'as if this Sharkey's calling the tune, and Lotho's doing the dancing.'

'Hmmmm,' Ferdibrand waited while Paladin thought this over.

A voice spoke from behind Ferdibrand. 'You haven't told him all the news,' Regi said, amusement in his voice.

The Thain looked sharply from him to Ferdi. 'Eh?' he said. 'What does he mean?'

Regi strode forward, to push a paper across the desk. It had evidently been posted on a tree or wall, and torn hastily from its mounting. 'Ferdi's worth twice what he was last month,' he said. 'You could add a lot of gold to your coffers were you to turn him in to the Shirriffs.'

The Thain snorted. 'Don't even have to turn you in alive, anymore, they'll take you dead as well,' he said.

Ferdi bowed ironically. 'I'm afraid it matters to me more than to them, whether I'm dead or alive,' he said.

'Indeed,' the Thain said dryly. 'Well, you're of some use to us, yet. I s'pose we'll keep you awhile longer, see if the price goes up a bit more.'

October wore away slowly. Merimac slipped into Tookland twice more, with news more grim each time. It seemed that this mysterious Sharkey had established himself comfortably at Bag End, and the ruffians under his leadership were growing more vicious daily. There was also word that the ruffians were planning something, perhaps some assault in force on Tookland, and a demand had been issued to the Master of Buckland, to tear down his Gate or have it torn down for him. Gates had been built at either end of the Brandywine Bridge, and the Ferry was no longer running. Merimac, for his last visit, had to slip across the River in a small boat after dark. The Tooks, who wouldn't be caught dead in a boat, wondered at his boldness.

'At least I avoid having to change at Maggot's,' he said philosophically to Ferdi as they crouched in the hollow of an old tree. 'I hated putting him in danger, though I must admit he drove a hard bargain for those wagons of produce I used to drive over there.' He shivered and pulled his cloak closer about himself. 'What news have you had from other parts?'

'None at all,' Ferdi said. 'They've locked Tookland up tight. The Thain thinks they're planning something.'

'He could be right,' Merimac nodded. 'There are hundreds of Men in the Shire, now, and they've got some bows in addition to the whips, clubs and knives they had before. They've started killing hobbits, as well. If they feel strong enough, they might assault Tookland. You could have a full-scale battle in the planning. You'd better set a heavier guard.'

Ferdi said, 'We've got Tooks on all the approaches, and traps where we can't put Tooks.'

'Good,' Merimac said.

'Where do you think they'll come?'

Merimac shrugged. 'Could be from any direction. They've got Men all around Tookland.' He ticked off on his fingers. 'Bywater, Waymeet, Longbottom, Woody End.'

'We're surrounded,' Ferdi agreed, glumly.

'By the way, congratulations.'

'For what?' Ferdi asked.

The other chuckled. 'I understand you're worth quite a bit of gold.' Ferdi smiled grimly. Merimac added, 'You know, if there were any pipeweed to be had for love or for money, I might be tempted to turn you in myself.' The two stiffened as a branch snapped, and they sat in silence for awhile. Finally, Merimac added, 'You'd better go. They've plastered pictures of your face all over these parts, and it's not a healthy place for you to linger. I've given you all the news I have, anyhow.'

Ferdi nodded and started to rise, but Merimac stopped him. 'Go with grace, lad.' He nodded soberly, sketched a salute, and slipped from the hollow of the tree.

Upon his return, Thain Paladin contemplated the significance of Merimac's warning. 'We'd better have larger groups of Tooks guarding the paths from the places he mentioned.' He looked to Regi. 'You and Ferdi lead a group to watch the approach from Bywater. I want you out there, sunset to sunrise, every day, and another group watching in daylight.'

'Yes, Sir,' Regi said.

It was a cold, weary business, lying in the ditches that bordered the fields, and boring as well. Three nights passed with no attack by marauding ruffians. Somehow the hobbits found this more disquieting than reassuring. It seemed as if tension were increasing in the Shire. The folk were cold and hungry, fearful to grumble, yet grumbling nevertheless. The Tooks kept their vigilant watch, and waited for the storm to break, whatever it might be.

On November the Second, instead of standing on the bank of the stream, watching the Sun seek her bed, preparing to mourn the passing of those who'd died since the previous November, Regi and Ferdi and a dozen other Tooks found themselves once again lying in a ditch between Tuckborough and Bywater.

Ferdi sighed. 'What is it?' Regi whispered.

'I wish something would happen,' Ferdi said. 'I've had more diversion watching the grass grow of a summer's day.' He and the others stiffened then, as the sound of a silver horn was carried faintly to them on the breeze.

Awake! Awake! Fear, Fire, Foes! Awake!
Fire, Foes! Awake!

'What was that?' Tolly hissed.

'The Horn-cry of Buckland,' Regi answered. 'But what's it being blown in Bywater for?' He raised his voice to a whispered shout. 'Everybody! On your toes!'

The Tooks quickly strung their bows and loosened their arrows in the sheaths. Ferdi took out half a dozen arrows and jammed them lightly into the soil before him, ready for a quick grab, and the others followed suit. They waited once more, and in the gathering night another horn-cry came to them, no nearer, but still compelling and somehow heartening.

'Something's happening!' Tolly hissed. Ferdi hushed him, passing the word to right and left down the line to be ready.

They waited.

Hoofbeats sounded, growing louder as they approached. Half a dozen riders, perhaps, and from the sound of the quick beats, ponies' feet, ponies being ridden in a hurry over the darkening fields. Ferdi passed the news for the Tooks to nock arrows and be ready to shoot at his signal.

The ponies came closer, and in the fading light Ferdi could just make out that they were ridden by hobbits. Shirriffs, perhaps? Why no Men? If this were the beginning of the assault on Tookland, hobbits might be used to disarm the resistance. The Tooks had yet to shoot at any of their fellow hobbits, even the ones working for Lotho, or Sharkey, as it was now.

He made a quick decision, leaping to his feet, striding forward a few steps, himself alone a target, his troop still safely concealed in the ditch. 'Hold!' he called out in a clear voice. 'You are trespassing upon Tookish land! Turn back, or be fired upon!'

The riders stopped, and a voice came out of the gathering gloom. 'Ferdibrand?'

Ferdi felt himself reeling. It was not possible, it could not be. 'Identify yourself!' he cried. He heard a pony being walked closer, until he could just see the rider on its back. He wondered if he were dreaming, for he looked upon a figure in mail, wearing a helm, carrying a shield.

'Ferdibrand! Don't you know me, you silly son of a Took?'

'Pippin?' he said incredulously. The pony was pulled to a halt before him, the rider slid down, but an unfamiliar figure with a familiar voice. This hobbit was taller than the cousin he remembered, and dressed as if he came out of a book of heroic tales.

'Ferdi!' Laughing and weeping, the two embraced. The other Tooks, hearing the commotion, erupted from the ditch, coming forward in wonder to gape at the son of the Thain in his faintly gleaming mail.

'Pippin?' Reginard said slowly. 'Is it really you, or is this... some kind of trick?'

'You're supposed to be dead!' Ferdi laughed, thumping his cousin on the back. 'We had your memorial!'

'And I missed it!' Pippin said in chagrin. 'Ah, well, no time for regrets. We're raising the Shire against the ruffians. I'm on my way to Tuckborough to fetch an army.'

'Good thing you ran into us, then,' Ferdi said. 'You'd never get past the traps.'

'Traps?' Pippin said.

Regi laughed. 'O aye,' he said, 'Ferdi's been quite brilliant in laying traps for unwelcome guests.'

'I suppose the Sackville-Bagginses haven't been to tea in quite awhile, then,' Pippin said.

'Quite awhile,' Ferdi affirmed.

'All right,' Pippin said. 'Climb up behind me, Ferdi, and guide us through the traps, if you please. The rest of you wait here, and we'll be back as soon as we can. I see you've brought your bows, good! I think we're about to have quite an exciting hunt.' The Tooks cheered, and watched the little group ride out of sight, then settled cheerfully back into their ditch. It seemed that things were looking up.

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COMING NEXT: The Battle of Bywater