Chapter 49. Tea and Talk and Mouths to Feed

Eglantine was quite put out that for her to ride in comfort from Whittacres to Tuckborough the coach would have to drive in quite the opposite direction: to Whitwell, then up to Waymoot, through Bywater and eastward nearly to the Brandywine on the Great East Road, down to Stock, turning towards the Great Smials at last on the Stock Road.

 ‘Why, it’ll take a week!’ she sputtered. ‘Pony back is good enough for this hobbit!’

 ‘Five days, Mother,’ Pearl said patiently. ‘And you’ve never complained of the journey before.’

 ‘What use was there, before?’ Eglantine said. ‘Old Ferumbras talked about a road between Bywater and Tuckborough but never got around to building one, all the better to inconvenience the Sackville-Bagginses, I suspect! And your father...’

 ‘Didn’t have the gold to pay for it,’ Pippin said, ‘and neither do I, so there’ll be no road built in the near future, I warrant, Sackville-Bagginses or no. Perhaps we can persuade a few of Lobelia’s relations from Harbottle to move closer, that we might inconvenience them with the lack of the road. Hate to see a good bit of bother wasted.’

 ‘None of your nonsense, now, Pippin,’ Eglantine said. ‘You’re determined to confess to the Tooks that the treasury is empty, and you know what they’ll say! They’ll suspect you of spiriting off the gold yourself! After all, so far as anyone knows the gold was still there until you became Thain!’

 ‘Well then,’ Pippin said mildly, ‘you may put me under the Ban for a year-and-a-day as a thief. I say, it’s quite an enticing thought, not to be spoken to for a whole year! Think of how much I could get done, were Tooks not badgering me day and night.’

Diamond, seeing Ferdi’s expression, said, ‘My dear.’

Pippin was immediately apologetic. ‘I’m sorry, Ferdi, I spoke without thinking...’

 ‘No harm done,’ Ferdi said stiffly. ‘I’ll just saddle another pony for Mistress Eglantine, if Isum can spare one, that is, and we’ll send a stable lad to fetch it back to Whittacres good as new.’

 ‘The bay gelding has easy paces,’ Isum said. ‘I swapped two calves for him, after borrowing him to ride to Michel Delving. He’s about as cosy as a rocking chair.’

 ‘Very well,’ Ferdi said, and took himself off to the barn where Hilly and Mardibold were saddling ponies and arranging Ferdinand’s conveyance.

 ‘You’ve got to stop doing that,’ Diamond said sotto voce to her husband.

 ‘Speaking without thinking?’ Pippin said. ‘I have rather put my foot in it.’

 ‘He was doing so well, and now you’ve put his back up again,’ Diamond reproached.

 ‘Stubborn Took that he is,’ Pippin said. He shook his head. ‘To think I nearly ruined him, and for what? Had he ridden the Rohan in the race under duress, he’d still have been disqualified! What a fool I was!’

 ‘Still are,’ Diamond said, taking his arm and leaning against him. ‘But I love you in spite of it all.’

***

Pearl and Isumbold and the children and the hired hobbits sang them down the lane, and then there was the long, pleasant ride up into the wild Green Hills, winding along hillsides, splashing over streams, meandering through pleasant valleys, past neat farmsteads with smoke rising from a stovepipe or chimney, wash flapping on the lines, children playing in the farmyards or pausing from their labours to wave at the travellers.

It was nearly teatime when they rode into the yard at the Great Smials. Excited hobbits were waiting to cheer their return.

 ‘You’d think we’d won,’ Pippin muttered to Ferdi, riding at his side. Socks and the Rohan had evidently worked out their differences for the nonce and gave no trouble.

 ‘We did win,’ Ferdi said stoutly. ‘ ‘Twasn’t the lad’s fault he didn’t fit the rules.’

Pippin looked over to meet his cousin’s eye. ‘To tell the truth, I find it rather hard to fit the rules most times, myself.’

 ‘I’d noticed that,’ Ferdi said. He slid from his saddle, gave Starfire’s reins to a beaming Old Tom, and turned to help Diamond down from the saddle whilst Pippin was lifting down Farry.

 ‘Thank you, Ferdi,’ Diamond said warmly.

 Ferdi nodded welcome and turned to Pippin, saying formally, ‘If that’ll be all, Sir?’

 ‘What’s that?’ Pippin said, distracted by the bright banners hung at all the windows, for all the world as if Tookland had won the All-Shire Race. ‘O, er, yes, Ferdi, that will be all. It’s teatime, after all. I won’t be requiring you for the rest of the day.’

 ‘Very good, Sir,’ Ferdi said, bowing, and moved to help lift old Ferdinand out of the sling that carried him.

You going to keep “Sir”-ing him like that? Hilly whispered as he, Ferdi, Mardibold, and a stable worker took Ferdinand between them.

Ferdi merely tightened his lips in irritation and Hilly desisted, at least until they’d settled Ferdinand in his own little room once more and Ferdi had promised to return for late supper, as always, and the stable hobbit had gone back to his duties. Once they were alone, walking down the corridor to the bathrooms—ah, to soak in a deep tub of steaming water! –Hilly broached the question again.

Ferdi stopped and turned to him, looking about to make sure they would not be overheard. ‘It’s truth, I’m going to bow and scrape and “Sir” as much as may be the next few days,’ he said. ‘You know what he’s up against!’

 ‘A show of respect,’ Hilly said slowly.

 ‘More than show,’ Ferdi said. ‘He’s determined to admit the gold is gone, and unless he’s strong and firm before the Tooks he’ll lose control of the situation, and then where will Tookland be?’

Just then Tolly hailed them and they turned. ‘Welcome back!’ he cried. ‘What a race it was! I tell you, the way everyone’s talking the Rohan is still the winner of the race, no matter who got the purse in the end.’

  ‘Well, he’s still the fastest pony in the Shire,’ Ferdi said. ‘They cannot take that away from him.’

Tolly lowered his voice. ‘When I was riding back with Reginard, a messenger hailed us, sent from Michel Delving to catch us up. Regi met Pippin at the door just now and sent me to fetch you. You’re wanted in the Thain’s study, Ferdi.’

 Ferdi sighed and turned reluctantly, saying over his shoulder to Hilly, ‘Tell them to save some steaming water for me!’

Walking down the corridor with Tolly, Ferdi said, ‘What’s the message about?’

 ‘I haven’t the faintest,’ Tolly said, ‘only that Regi looked grim as he read it and grimmer as he showed it to the Thain, there at the door, not even waiting until they got to the study, and Pippin laughed as if to say, “What more can go wrong?” You know how it is, when you just have to laugh to keep yourself from cursing?’

 ‘I know,’ Ferdi said. He couldn’t imagine what else could go wrong, on top of everything that had already gone wrong. What was that old saying about the luck of the Tooks, and where had the luck gone?

 Tolly lowered his voice and said, ‘The word’s gone out that there’s to be a convocation of Tooks in a week. Regi’s sending messengers far and wide. D’you know what it’s all about?’

 ‘I’m sure we’ll find out, a week from now,’ Ferdi said. He changed the subject, asking about Meadowsweet and married life, and kept the conversation firmly on domestic affairs until they reached the study door.

Pippin sat at the great desk, a message sheaf in his hand. He looked up at Ferdi’s knock. ‘Enter,’ he said. ‘Take a seat, Ferdi.’

Reginard poured out a cup of tea and silently fixed it to Ferdi’s taste. Wondering, Ferdi took the chair indicated and accepted the cup, sipping gratefully at the scalding beverage.

 ‘I’ve received a message from the Master of the Races,’ Pippin said without preamble. ‘It seems he met with the Racing Masters from the Four Farthings, and they agreed that the rules needed refinement.’

 ‘Refinement?’ Ferdi said cautiously. His first thought was that they’d thought twice about disqualifying the top three finishers, seeing as how they’d run fairly. It wasn’t quite the same as the race Bandobras had run, with his illegal entry... But no; looking at Pippin’s sober expression, he suspected the news could not be good news.

 ‘Yes,’ Pippin said, the Tookish lilt nearly gone from his voice. He sounded precise and formal... more like a Brandybuck than a Took at present. ‘It seems that a number of Shire-folk were expressing... alarm... at the prospect of outlandish entries being foisted off upon the racing public, stealing the races from honest Shire-ponies, as it were.’

 ‘I see,’ Ferdi said uncertainly, though he really didn’t see at all.

Pippin seemed to understand his confusion, for he went on. ‘The rules were amended to disallow any ponies from outside the Shire to be entered in official races,’ he said.

 ‘But after a year-and-a-day...’ Ferdi said.

Pippin shook his head. ‘Not after a year-and-a-day,’ he said. ‘Not ever, Ferdi. They wanted to insure that Merry would not bring in any more fine ponies from Rohan to upset the local ponies, for he’s been improving his stables, as you know, with imported bloodlines.’

Ferdi sat stunned. Not to improve the bloodlines... that was madness! Insular conceit of the worst kind! Why, his father had gone all the way to Bree to buy a fine stallion for his stables, a lifetime ago.

 ‘I’m sorry, Ferdi,’ Pippin said. ‘Starfire will never run another race, not in the Shire, at least.’

 ‘Never race,’ Ferdi said numbly. Never.

 ‘He’s still yours, of course,’ Pippin said, ‘and the consolation is that his foals will race someday, for the rules plainly state that only ponies born within the Bounds are eligible. And so his foals will be. But this ruling takes away much of the gain you might have expected to have.’

 ‘I...’ Ferdi said, but could find no more words. He had another pony to feed, ‘twas true, and no hope of increase from riding the Rohan in races. He could put Dapple out to pasture, sure, for he had two ponies to alternate in performance of his duties with Penny and Star. But he’d had hopes for next year’s races...

 ‘Because of this, I felt it necessary to alter our own agreement,’ Pippin said.

Ferdi looked to him in astonishment. Was he taking the pony back?

 ‘I know I reserved the rights to the pony’s breeding,’ Pippin said, ‘but out of fairness to you I think it only fitting that you ought to have the proceeds of one of his foals each year, whether a fee for stud or the foal itself. Would that meet with your satisfaction, cousin?’

Ferdi stared open-mouthed.

Pippin laid down the message and leaned forward. ‘Very well, then,’ he said. ‘Would two foals do?’

Ferdi found his tongue. ‘One foal is enough, cousin,’ he said, ‘more than enough. Very generous of you.’

Pippin sat back. ‘Well,’ he said diffidently, ‘here I gave you another mouth to feed; I might as well give you the means to feed it.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’m afraid I’m cutting the wages of all who work at the Great Smials.’

Ferdi nodded. He’d expected as much. ‘Will that be all, Sir?’ he said carefully.

Pippin sighed at the formal address. ‘It will,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t need you again until the morrow.’