Chapter 13 – The Staff

The Badger was glad of a quiet time at home alone, having done so much gadding about and meeting people over the last few days. He was his usual grumpy self when he was disturbed from his mid-day doze by the ringing of the front-door bell. He was doubly annoyed when on opening the door there was no one in sight. He muttered "cheeky young pups" to himself, thinking of the young squirrels who occasionally played 'ring and run', hiding in the tree tops to laugh as the old badger emerged. However, he noticed a sheet of paper tucked into his boot scraper, and bending down to reach it a long wooden pole that had been leant against the doorframe fell across him and clattered onto the ground. He grunted and leaving it where it was he brought the paper up to his eyes. He was already wearing his reading glasses and quickly read it. It was an official declaration that Radagast was now an outlaw.

Someone must have picked up a copy from the village post office, and this was their way of giving him the news. But why like this, why not just politely ring and hand over the paper? And why the pole, left to bother an old fellow? He had closed the door and was halfway back to his fireside chair when he put two and two together and hurried back to retrieve the wizard's staff, left anonymously by someone who knew more than they would admit.

He sat down, a little out of breath, and collected his thoughts. Now that Radagast was an outlaw, the Wild Wood would accept him, hide him and support him. This was their way of signalling this and making amends: whoever left the staff was probably involved in the attack on the wizard last week. They must think that Radagast was still hiding somewhere in the sett's extensive reaches. He dozed off wondering what he could do; he was reluctant to walk as far as Otter's today, and Toad Hall was just too far.

The following morning, quite early, when he was still in his dressing gown, he had a proper and welcome caller: Portly. The young Otter had plenty of news, mostly relayed by his father who had returned from Toad Hall the previous evening.

"It turns out," concluded Portly, "that Mr Toad had met this Lady Espinal in Monte Carlo earlier in the year. He had no idea that she and her entourage were elves. Nor that she was one of Fox's guests."

"Where is Toad now?" asked Badger.

"He was driven back to town last night. Father said that he and the lady elf have said their goodbyes – she will be leaving with the others on Thursday. That's tomorrow! Err, Mr Badger, you don't think there was, well, a romantic connection between our Mr Toad and this elf lady?"

Badger looked glum. "No. Toad has changed a lot: back in spring when I last saw him – at Ratty's wedding - he was hardly an animal at all. He is physically and completely a man now, but I doubt that he will ever be interested in romance: he is an overgrown child, and I don't think he will ever grow up. I'm telling you this in the strictest confidence you understand – best not mention it even to your father."

Portly was not sure that he did understand, but he nodded solemnly.

Portly was shown the wizard's staff and took hold of it gingerly, but it was as inert as any other piece of wood. "Is this really the wizard's lost staff?"

Badger was certain it must be. They decided that Portly would carry it back home with him and then take it by boat on to Toad Hall and Radagast. Portly left soon afterwards. This was probably his last chance to be with the elves; he was not star-struck by them as the Water Rats were, but it was a unique opportunity he wanted to make the most of.

He saw no one as he trotted back home, self-consciously holding the staff, its ornately carved top level with his own head, but he felt that many eyes were upon him. As soon as he reached home the staff went into the bottom of the boat and he was rowing upstream to Toad Hall. The other boat was gone, so Portly assumed that his father was already at Toad Hall. When he arrived there himself he walked up to the Hall from the river mooring, carrying the staff with him. He walked through an apparently empty house and following the sound of voices found his father, several elves and both water rats sitting around the table in the banqueting hall with piles of gold coins and ancient-looking documents in front of them.

He entered bearing the staff, startling two elves standing by the doorway, who clearly had not heard him come clomping down the corridor in his heavy boots. They regarded Portly and the staff he held, exchanging words in a language that Portly did not understand or recognize; then briefly bowing to Portly one hurried from the room. The other spoke to him, struggling with a language which was not his own: "Distinguished young sir, you are the bearer of a great thing, for which many thanks are your due. Wizard Radagast will be found that he may give you the thanks. Ever he searches for his great box."

Soon Portly was sitting alone in the grand salon with fruit and wine at his side, still clutching the staff. The elves were clear that they expected him, as finder, to keep hold of it until he could hand it over in person. Not one of them would as much as touch the staff, which they regarded with some awe. Time went by, but no Radagast. After fifteen minutes had been ticked away by the clock on the mantelpiece Cola came in and sat next to him. Quietly she explained that his father and her husband were taking over the charitable funds which had previously been administered by Fox, and before him by the fathers of Fox and Toad. "They had intended to ask old Badger, but your father suggested Ratty and myself, and they seem pleased with us. There is just the legal business to complete and they are done."

She added, "They are leaving tomorrow, you know." Portly nodded. "Not just Toad Hall I mean, but the country, the world. They are going to Elvenhome, wherever that is. They have said that Ratty and I can ride with them in the charabanc and see them off. It's both sad and exciting."

"Are they going down to the coast, to Southampton or Portsmouth?"

"No. They are not taking ship as the elves of ancient times did. They are going to some pre-arranged spot, a hill hereabouts and 'stepping out of this world.'"

After a few minutes she realised that Portly was still tightly holding on to the staff, just as he had been when he burst in amongst them in the banqueting hall. "Portly, you are looking most uncomfortable. Why don't you put down that staff and relax? The elves are still looking for Radagast; it could be sometime before he turns up. Lean it against something."

Portly got up and carefully leant the staff against the wall, but then found that his hand had 'gone to sleep'; he could not let go. He fumbled with his other hand to unlock his fingers but his grip remained tight. Was he holding the staff or the staff holding him? "Cola, I can't put it down, my hand won't let go."

She was with him in a moment and felt his gripping hand; it was both stiff and hot. "Stay here and stay calm, I'll go for help."

She hurried from the room, but returned almost immediately with Radagast himself. The wizard took hold of the staff and there was a flash of white light, like a photographer's magnesium flare. Portly let go of the staff as though it were suddenly too hot to hold. He stepped back with a little cry and examined his hand. Radagast laughed, "No harm done young man, but you do surprise me."

"Surprise, sir?"

"Oh yes, twice over. Only yesterday, I would have said 'young otter', not 'young man', and you would have been looking at your paw, not a man's hand. You are an animal no longer. All of you are changing, but your change has been particularly rapid and is already complete." He paused to let this sink in.

"Then there is your reaction to my staff; it wasn't the staff that held you, it was your mind that refused to let it go. Most curious. There is a touch of 'magic' about you, and the elves spotted it at once. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you arrived; I was down by the road taking a covert look at those goblins. They are a tribe like none I have encountered before: nearly man-sized and much more like men than the orcs of old. I'd be happier if I knew what they are up to.

"However, I forget my manners: thank you for bringing my staff, which changes everything. Now I can find my box, if it is anywhere nearby. There is very little time; I must get to work immediately. Will you help me?"

For a few moments Portly was overcome by the news of his transformation and could not take in what was being said to him. He stood staring at his hands, turning them one way and another, evidence and symbols of his alteration. However, otters – even human ones – are not given to introspection. He shook his head vigorously, as though shaking off his thoughts, and turned his attention back to the wizard. Action was what he needed. The wizard wanted the highest vantage point in the area; Portly would take him there, and they hurried away.

Cola, meanwhile had sat herself down; her thoughts whirling around those few words of the wizard: "all of you are changing." Did that include her and Ratty? Was this the wizard's doing, or the elves', or was it inevitable? Could it be true? Was she changing, did she feel less like a water rat than she had been as a youngster? She was still in a daze when Lady Espinal found her, many minutes later.