Chapter 48. When Worse Comes to Worst

Pippin and Diamond rode to Whittacres in Eglantine’s coach, their ponies tied on behind. Farry slept snuggled in his grandmother’s lap, exhausted from being wakened to watch the fireworks, and the difficulty of falling back to sleep again after the excitement. The low-voiced conversation of the adults did not seem to rouse him from his doze.

 ‘...I gave them my word I’d not turn them off the land, Mother,’ Pippin said.

 ‘And that was before you knew the treasury was empty,’ Eglantine said. ‘It never occurred to me...’ She shook her head in wonder and self-reproach. ‘All those years your father was Thain, I thought you knew.’

 ‘I knew he was hard, cold, and tight-fisted,’ Pippin said, and put a comforting hand on his mother’s, seeing her expression. ‘I’m sorry, Mum, I shouldn’t speak of him that way.’

 ‘It is how he was, as Thain,’ Eglantine said low. She took a shaky breath. ‘He had no gold to buy his way, he had no charm to talk folk round, he was just a hard-working, honest farmer thrown into a barren, stony field and told to plough. Half the Tooks wouldn’t listen to him, thinking him an impostor, and the other half were so spoilt as to be practically useless.’

 ‘And if he were here there’d be no difficulty at all; he’d turn them off the land and sell the lease at the best price he could find,’ Pippin said.

 ‘No, Pippin, indeed not!’ Eglantine protested. Farry stirred in her arms and she lowered her voice. ‘He wouldn’t just turn them out; he’d give them time to pack up and he’d find places for them on neighbouring farms or even in the fields of the Great Smials.’

 ‘Just as Thain Fortinbras did for our family when the floods took all,’ Pippin said wryly.

 ‘Thain Fortinbras had gold at his disposal,’ Eglantine retorted, ‘all the fabled hoard of the Thain at his fingertips.’

 ‘Which disappeared, either under his wife, or under his son,’ Diamond murmured, trying to soothe the emotion that crackled between mother and son.

 ‘Which disappeared,’ Pippin said, and his shoulders slumped. ‘I am forsworn, it seems. I gave my word they’d keep the land, and yet the land is not mine to give. It belongs to the Tooks, and I vowed I’d look after the well-being of Tookland. Harvest time is coming, and all too soon it will be time to pay for shipments of grain and flax from the North Farthing and pipe-weed, sultanas and wine from the South Farthing, waggonloads of gravel and barrels of dried fish from the East Farthing, and brandy from Buckland, for starters... They will take only so many sheep in trade.’ Diamond's hand tightened on his as he continued in a lower voice, '...and last year's second- and third-place purses from the All Shire Race did a great deal to offset expenses.' 

 ‘Tooks might smoke fewer pipes and wear more wool,’ Diamond said. ‘Make do with what we have. Sell more wood?’

 ‘For every tree that’s cut, another must be planted,’ Pippin said, straightening again, ‘and how many years will it take to grow? We cannot strip the land bare, my love. Too bad there’s no more gold in the Great Smials.’

 ‘It disappeared,’ Diamond said, but Pippin chuckled.

 ‘In more ways than one,’ he said. ‘How do you think the excavation started in the first place? Gold was found in the Tuckbourne, and one bright Took had the idea of delving a gold mine into the Great Hill, and so the Great Smials began...’

 ‘And when all the gold was dug out some hobbit mum looked at all the lovely tunnels and rooms and said, “Why let this go to waste?”,’ Diamond said.

Eglantine smiled. ‘That’s closer to the truth than you know,’ she said. ‘It’s in the old stories, passed down. Bandobras couldn’t bear working in a dark, closed-in mine, and took himself off to the open spaces of the North Farthing, and that’s how your branch of the family broke off the Took family tree.’

 ‘Only to be grafted in once more at last,’ Pippin said, easing an arm around his wife and pulling her closer, dropping a kiss upon her curls.

 ‘Is there any more gold behind the walls of the Smials?’ Diamond said.

Eglantine shook her head. ‘Paladin had the same idea, and had the chief engineer discreetly pull off the panelling in many parts to survey what was there,’ she said, ‘but no gold was ever found.’

Pippin grimaced. ‘There’s naught for it,’ he said.

 ‘What do you mean?’ his mother asked, her eyes narrowing.

He met her gaze directly. ‘I won’t live a lie,’ he said. ‘My father did, and it made him hard, cold and bitter. I won’t pretend to be the richest hobbit in the Shire, sitting on my hoard.’

Eglantine’s hands tightened unconsciously. ‘But they won’t listen to you if...’ she gasped.

 ‘If they only listen to me for the gold they think I hoard, then I don’t want their ears,’ Pippin said, finality in his tone. ‘They confirmed the succession, they made me Thain; I had to swear to do my best by the Tooks and by the Shire-folk, and do my best I shall, but I won’t do it with lies.’

 ‘What are you going to do?’ Diamond said.

 ‘I’m going to tell the Tooks just how much gold is in the Thain’s hoard,’ Pippin said. ‘If they don’t believe me, I’ll take them to the place and show them.’ He sighed, and added, ‘and then I’m going to send Regi to find places for the Took-Grubbs, and I’m going to turn them off their land and find someone who can pay the lease, and how the Talk will spread... for the Thain is only as good as his word, you know.’

Diamond’s hand tightened on his. ‘We’ll get through this,’ she said, ‘and if worse comes to worst...’

Pippin began to laugh softly.

 ‘What is it?’ his wife and mother wanted to know.

 ‘What’s the worst they can do?’ he said when he’d got his breath back. ‘Turn me off? Find another Thain?’

Farry blinked sleepily as the laughter of the adults washed around him. ‘Are we there yet?’ he piped.

 ‘Nearly, my lad,’ Pippin said, taking him from his grandmother and plonking him down on the seat between himself and Diamond. ‘We’re nearly there.’

***

It was a lovely and relaxing birthday celebration, all too short as such things often are. Pearl and her daughters had cooked enough home-grown food to feed a muster of hobbits. Farry’s cousins took him all about the farm, giving the adults time to talk freely about what must be done to keep Tookland running.

Pearl and Isum had many sensible suggestions, from having lived in the Great Smials before Paladin sent them to manage the family farm. Old Ferdinand took note of what everyone said, for he had a remarkable memory and could repeat back a conversation verbatim on request. ‘I’ll have you give Reginard a full report when we get back to the Smials,’ Pippin told him, and the old hobbit beamed. It was a good feeling to be useful once more, after so many years of helplessness.

Instead of sitting in the yard or eating in the kitchen with the children as business was discussed, the hobbits of the escort found themselves in the parlour with the other adults, or gathered round the large table in the dining room, talking, eating, talking some more.

The day after their arrival was Pippin’s birthday, and at the birthday dinner he rose to the calls for a speech and bowed to the assembled relations gathered there: Eglantine, Pearl’s family, Ferdi and his father, Mardibold, ostensibly there for Ferdinand’s benefit, Hilly, and Diamond and Faramir, of course. He gazed around the table and nodded to himself. ‘I am rich indeed,’ he said, ‘rich in all the things that matter most. You might call me the wealthiest hobbit in the Shire.’

Everyone cheered and raised their glasses in a toast, and then Pearl’s littlest piped, ‘What kind of presents did you bring us?’

Pearl blushed scarlet and Isum put a comforting arm round her shoulders, cocking a mischievous eye up at Pippin. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I was wondering the same! What sort of presents should one expect from the wealthiest hobbit in the Shire?’

 ‘I’m glad you asked!’ Pippin said, ‘...for I have brought treasure, indeed, precious stones from my hoard!’

He ducked beneath the table and came up with a beautifully carved box. Eglantine caught her breath, recognising her husband’s work.

 ‘My da gave me this, upon a time, on this very spot,’ Pippin said softly, ‘on another birthday. He said every farm lad ought to have a box to keep his treasure in.’

Opening the lid, he revealed a collection of pebbles and small rocks, some smooth, some rough, of all colours and shapes. With a flourish he presented the box to each hobbit at the table in turn, letting them choose, and giving them the provenance of the stone chosen. ‘Ah, yes, Perry, I found that one on the bank of the stream while minding a flock of sheep. I slipped it into my pocket, sat down to cool my feet, and promptly fell asleep! When I woke up, I was the only one there. It took me hours to find all the sheep and gather them together again!’

Young Perebold weighed the streaked stone in his hand as Pippin continued. ‘I kept that stone to remind me to be ever mindful of my duty.’

 ‘Thank you, Uncle,’ Perebold said, closing his fingers about the stone. Treasure, indeed.

At last Pippin came around to Hilly and Ferdi. Old Ferdinand had chosen a white stone which sparkled in the sun, and asked little Amethyst to keep it safe for him with her own birthday mathom. Hilly sheepishly chose a stone, smooth to the touch and dull-grey. Pippin said, ‘That came from the middle of the Tuckbourne during the dry season. I was on my way to Bag End from the farm, and I thought I’d simply skip across on the rocks, but a rock turned under my foot and tipped me into the stream. As I came up, that stone was in my fist; I still do not know why my fingers closed around it. When you put it under water, it’s a rich, inky black. I kept it to remember that not every course is as easy to tread as it might look.’

Hilly nodded soberly. ‘Thank you, cousin,’ he said.

 ‘And now your turn, Ferdi,’ Pippin said, extending the box to his head of escort.

Ferdi looked down into the jumble of stone and saw a pebble of mingled grey and white and shadow. Without thinking he took it up, saying, ‘Why, it looks as if it might be a part of Penny!’

 ‘Or the Rohan, perhaps,’ Pippin said. ‘Starfire, I mean.’

 ‘Yes,’ Ferdi said. ‘Imagine it, a stone of dapple grey.’

 ‘Perhaps you’d prefer the real item,’ Pippin said, and Ferdi looked up at him, confusion in his look.

 ‘I don’t take your meaning, cousin,’ he said politely, even as he saw Diamond smile widely, for Pippin had told her what he intended.

 ‘Starfire is yours, if you’ll take him,’ Pippin said. ‘You saved his life when I would have thrown it away, and he saved yours. You belong together. All I ask is to retain the breeding rights, that the proceeds might go to benefit Tookland.’

 ‘If I’ll take him...’ Ferdi breathed, shaking his head in wonder, but the headshake turned to negation. ‘I cannot, cousin, it is too great a gift...’

 ‘Take him,’ old Ferdinand said firmly. ‘Take him, son, do not throw your cousin’s gift back in his face.’

 ‘Honour your father,’ Isum said, and the head of escort looked at the former head of escort in astonishment. Isum locked gazes with Ferdi until the latter nodded and cleared his throat.

 ‘I... I don’t know what to say, cousin,’ he said huskily.

 ‘Thank you is the customary phrase, I think,’ Pippin said, ever ready to be helpful.

 ‘Th—thank you,’ Ferdi said, stammering as he had not in years.

 ‘You’re more than welcome,’ Pippin said, and then slapped his hands together. ‘Now then,’ he said, turning away to spare Ferdi further embarrassment, ‘who’s ready for cake?’