Chapter 6. A Breath of Fresh Air

Everything was back to the way it should be the next day, Ferdibrand was grateful to note. After changing into another new pair of breeches (to have more than three sets of clothing, and two sets of them new, imagine it!) he’d taken himself off on a long ride on Penny, and so missed the summons to attend the eventide meal with Mayor and Thain and their wives. Pippin would have called him to the fore at late supper, to commend him before all the Tooks assembled there, but Diamond reminded her husband that Ferdi always took late supper with his father.

Mayor Sam departed after late supper, for he was to open the Lily Festival in Pincup the following morning, after travelling through the night. He’d catch some sleep after the festive noontide meal and then travel back to the Smials to rejoin his family, and stay over another day at the Smials to plan the installation of the Thain. Pippin had been confirmed by the Tooks in March, but his installation as Thain of the Shire at a properly convened Shire-moot, by tradition, would occur on Mid-year's Day. After the planning it would be back to Bag End until the end of May.

Ferdi was glad to hear, on his pre-dawn arrival at the stables, that the Mayor had gone. It seemed he’d neatly ducked a public show of gratitude, and silly it would have made him feel, for doing something of so little consequence. Goldi had never been in any real danger, he told himself. Dangerous beast, indeed! The stallion trotted to the fence to greet him, whickering softly, dipping his velvet nose to Ferdi’s upturned palm, lowering his head for a good scratching under the mane.

‘Dangerous beast!’ he said under his breath. ‘Is that what you are?’ He laughed as the pony shook his head. They worked through early breakfast, but on sticking his head through the kitchen doorway to beg a piece of bread-and-butter, he found that one of the serving lasses had saved a plate of golden-fried potatoes and sausages for him. He gulped down his food faster than the fine meal warranted and was barely on time reporting to the Thain for the day.

Pippin gave him a sharp look when he stuck his head in at the study door. ‘Where have you been?’ the Thain demanded.

Ferdi raised an inquiring eyebrow. ‘Where I always am,’ he answered. ‘I’m off after teatime, and so I took a ride, and then I was with my da for late supper, and then...’

‘The Gamgees have been looking for you, as you very well know,’ Pippin said severely. ‘They wanted to thank you...’

‘I did nothing out of the ordinary,’ Ferdi said. ‘The stallion’s not all that dangerous, you know. He just wants a firm hand.’

‘You cannot evade their gratitude forever,’ Pippin said.

‘Hopefully the Mayor will be so occupied with planning the installation ceremony he’ll forget inconsequentialities,’ Ferdi said.

Pippin snorted but said no more.

It was a busy day, with messages to run and escort duty besides. He rode with Pippin to a farm on the outskirts of Tookbank, waiting while Pippin met with the old hobbit who held the land. A message had come immediately after early breakfast that the farmer was dying and wished to bespeak the Thain.

Ferdi stood by patiently while Pippin sat himself down in one of the chairs next to the bed, taking the wrinkled, work-worn hand in his own, speaking respectfully as the hobbit’s grown sons stood silent nearby.

‘Lease,’ the old hobbit whispered.

‘Yes,’ Pippin said, and waited.

One of the sons stepped forward, the eldest, probably, from the grey grizzling his curls. ‘The land is on lease from the Thain,’ he said quietly. ‘Da always meant to renew the lease... it expires with his death, you see, and leaves us...’ He hesitated, looked at the brothers to either side of him, and stepped back.

The Thain nodded, his face sober. Their father’s death would leave them grieving not only his loss, but also the loss of the home they’d known all their lives. He had a sudden wild urge to grant them the land outright, but... The land belonged to the Tooks, in care of the Thain, and income from the lease like so many other leases served to pay for road work and other upkeep. It was not his land to give.

‘To renew the lease...’ Pippin said.

‘Would take more than we have,’ the farmer’s wife said quietly from her husband’s other side. ‘He worked as a labourer for years, and I worked as well, to put away enough to buy a lifetime lease in the first place. So much of what we grow goes to feed the little ones, and to pay the yearly rental. There’s not been much left over to put away, year to year.’

‘I see,’ Pippin said. He leaned close to the farmer. ‘Your family will not go homeless,’ he said. ‘You may pass on in peace, and they will not be thrown off the land. You have my promise. We will find a way somehow.’ He looked from the farmer’s wife to his sons. ‘I will have to read the original agreement and consult with the Steward,’ he said. ‘The land is not mine to give, for it belongs to the Tooks, but I will do all I can...’

‘Thank you, Sir,’ the farmer’s wife said softly. ‘You see, Renny, I told you the new Thain would do right by us.’

‘Thank you, Sir,’ the sons echoed, and one of the granddaughters stepped forward. ‘If you’ll stay to take a cup of tea, Sir,’ she said, ‘elevenses is nearly ready.’

‘No, I beg your leave but I must return to the Smials,’ Pippin said. He squeezed the farmer’s hand and rose. ‘I will try to have your answer on the morrow.’

The farmer nodded weakly. He might be able to stay with them that long, to depart with the knowing whether his family was safe or no, rather than the uncertainty that gnawed at him now and gave him no rest. ‘Thankee,’ he whispered.

Pippin and Ferdi rode back to the Smials without speaking, munching dried apple tarts still warm from the oven and pressed on them by the farmer’s granddaughter. Blessing her kindness, Ferdi remembered what it had been to leave his home and all he knew behind. He hoped Pip could find a way to do right by the farmer’s family.

Diamond was waiting when they arrived back at the Great Smials, sweeping Pippin off to a late noontide meal as soon as his feet touched the stones of the yard. ‘I’ll see that Socks is properly cooled out and rubbed down,’ Ferdi said, and Pippin thanked him. As a result, Ferdi was famished by the time he sat down to tea in the great room, for no one had thought to save a plate from noontide for him.

Meadowsweet, a pert serving lass, was sitting at the table reserved for the hobbits of the escort. ‘Where’s Tolly?’ Ferdi asked as he sat down.

‘Not here yet,’ Meadowsweet said, a touch of anxiety in her tone. ‘He promised he’d come, and I switched off with Dahlia so we could take tea together, but...’

Hilly said, ‘He relieved me an hour ago, and the Thain ought to have released him at teatime. I don’t know where he could be.’

‘I’ll go look for him,’ Ferdi said, popping a sausage roll into his mouth as he rose, but Meadowsweet forestalled him.

‘No, don’t neglect your own meal,’ she said. ‘I’m sure he’ll be along. He wouldn’t forget. Not when there’s so much planning yet to be done, and so little time to do it in.’ Their wedding was but a week away.

‘Of course he wouldn’t forget,’ Hilly said heartily. He had every confidence in his older brother, and said so.

Ferdi cleared his plate quickly and efficiently and rose once more. ‘I’ll just take a turn about the Smials,’ he said, ‘and see if I can track him down.’ He smiled to reassure her. ‘I used to be a hunter, you know.’

Meadowsweet thanked him. Her own plate remained nearly untouched.

Ferdi walked swiftly about the Great Smials, asking after Tolly, but none had seen him. At last he thought to check the Thain’s quarters, to ask Pippin if he’d sent the hobbit out with a message. He found Tolly standing outside the study door.

‘Is it nearly teatime yet?’ Tolly said when Ferdi hailed him. ‘I’ve been waiting for Diamond to come and fetch...’

‘She went into town for tea with the Mayor’s wife,’ Ferdi said. ‘Pippin hasn’t released you yet?’ Diamond would be put out, to know her husband had missed the meal.

‘No, he’s working away, said he’d wait for Regi to come back for he had a question for him,’ Tolly said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. ‘It’s teatime already?’

‘It’s nearly past teatime, you daft Took,’ Ferdi said. ‘Take yourself off, and quick! Sweetie’s waited through tea for you, and she’s upset enough that she’s hardly eaten a bite!’

‘You don’t think she’d call off the wedding!’ Tolly said.

‘Go!’ Ferdi said in answer, giving him a push for good measure. Tolly took off at a run. Ferdi could only hope he’d be in time to meet Meadowsweet before she was called back to her duties. He’d hunt her up later, explain the circumstances, try to smooth things over for Tolly’s sake.

He tapped on the study door. ‘Come!’ came Pippin’s voice from the study.

Ferdi poked his head in. ‘It’s past teatime,’ he said. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be done for the day?’

Pippin sighed and pushed aside some papers. ‘The work is never done,’ he said ruefully. ‘But the stack is a little lower than it was. Have you seen Regi?’

‘No,’ Ferdi said. ‘It was his half-day.’ Pippin nodded. ‘He walked with the Mistress and Mrs Gamgee into Tuckborough and as far as I know he won’t be back until eventides.’

‘I wanted to take a look at that lease,’ Pippin said. He pushed himself up from his chair. ‘I suppose I’ll have to go and fetch it myself.’

‘You, fetch something yourself?’ Ferdi said in frank astonishment. ‘Whatever would the servants say?’

Pippin laughed. ‘You may come along if you like,’ he said. ‘Make yourself useful.’

Ferdi found what he meant when they entered the cavernous storehole of records. There were shelves full of leather-bound books, papers in crates, paper in piles, papers on every surface.

‘The leases ought to be filed over here,’ Pippin said, walking to one section and pulling out a crate. ‘I remember copying some out, when I was learning about the legalities.’ He started going through the stack of papers in the crate, nodding to Ferdi to sort through an adjacent crate. ‘Renibard Took-Grubb’s lease would have been signed fifty years ago or so... you’ll have to dig down a ways. It won’t be on top of a stack, though they should be roughly in order by date. Roughly.’ He laughed without humour. ‘I’ve told Regi I ought to send the record-keepers to Rivendell.’

‘Rivendell!’ Ferdi said, losing his place in the papers he was sorting through. ‘Whatever for?’

‘The elves have records going back thousands of years, and they can put their hands on the one wanted in a matter of minutes,’ Pippin said. ‘No sorting, no sneezing, no...’ he sneezed as if in illustration of his words.

Ferdi felt a tickle in his nose and gave an answering sneeze. The two cousins couldn’t help laughing at the ridiculous situation. ‘Let’s make a race of it,’ Ferdi suggested. ‘The sooner we’re out of this place, the better.’ Fingers used to delicate tasks such as fletching arrows and carving trinkets sorted quickly and efficiently through the crate of papers. ‘Not in this one,’ he said.

‘Nor here,’ Pippin replied. He reached to pull another crate towards him and Ferdi stopped to stare. Something was wrong. His cousin was moving more slowly than usual, and his breathing was laboured.

‘Are you well, Pip?’ he asked.

Pippin looked up in surprise. He started to answer automatically, then stopped. ‘No,’ he muttered. ‘I suppose I’m not. Blasted dust...’ Ferdi could hear him wheezing.

‘We’ve got to get you out of here,’ he said, remembering Regi’s warning when Pippin was newly arrived from Buckland. I don’t know what he’s using for lungs, he’d said. A cold, or a good lungful of smoke or dust could be enough to carry him off. He stood abruptly to his feet, putting a hand under Pippin’s arm to help him up. Pippin lurched against him, and he quickly ducked beneath his cousin’s arm, half-carrying him from the room. ‘We’ll get you to clear air,’ he said, and soon they were in the corridor.

Outside the record hall, however, Pippin’s breathing did not improve. ‘I’ll fetch a healer,’ Ferdi said, his worry growing.

‘No,’ Pippin managed to gasp. ‘Just need to... rest... go... quarters...’

Ferdi nodded and guided their steps to the Thain’s private quarters, not far from the hall of records. He eased Pippin down into a chair and stood over him. ‘What can I do?’ he asked urgently.

Pippin shook his head; all his energy was dedicated to drawing breath.

‘Can I be of assistance, sir?’ a quiet voice said behind him. Ferdi spun around to see Sandy, the Thain’s personal hobbitservant.

‘Yes!’ Ferdi snapped, but then he hesitated. The first time Pip had had a bad spell, he wouldn’t let Regi send for a healer.

If the Tooks knew... Ferdi had said, talking it over with Regi afterwards.

Well they’re not going to find out from us! Regi had answered. So the Tooks might reject a seriously-ill Thain. Would they be better off with a dead one? Ferdi made a quick decision and cursed the seconds lost to hesitation. ‘Fetch a healer and be quick about it!’

Sandy was gone and back again in an astonishingly short amount of time, though it felt like an eternity to Ferdibrand as he watched his cousin struggle for air. He found himself panting in sympathy. ‘Hold on, Pip!’ he whispered. ‘Hold on!’ He grasped Pippin’s arms, staring into the glazing eyes, willing each breath to come.

He was never so relieved in his life to hear Healer Woodruff’s voice. Normally he avoided healers like he’d avoid a plague of midges, but now at her grandmotherly, ‘What seems to be the trouble?’ he felt as if he could hug her, were he not holding so tightly to Pippin.

‘Dust,’ he said succinctly.

She reached past him then, saying, ‘Leave hold!’ and breaking his grip, then pulling the Thain’s shirt off over his head. She seized a jar and dug her fingers into the pungent ointment within, smearing it over Pippin’s chest. ‘Tilt him forward,’ she snapped, and proceeded to smear his back for good measure. ‘Feel the tingle, Sir, that means it’s working,’ she said, cradling the Thain against her shoulder. ‘It’ll open things up, you’ll see. Just keep breathing.’

Ferdi found the pungency clearing the panic from his own thoughts. He watched in suspense, hearing the breath whistle in and out, seeing the muscles tighten with every effort, hearing the soft, encouraging murmurs from the healer.

Sandy was there again, holding a covered cup. ‘Here it is,’ he said, ‘Steeped a good five minutes already. I counted to make sure.’

‘It would be better had it steeped twenty minutes,’ Woodruff replied, ‘but he needs it now.’ She laid Pippin back against the cushions. The Thain’s eyes were half-open; his mouth gaped as if by doing so he could draw more air into the constricted passages. ‘Come, lad,’ she said, much as she had to the charming but uncooperative son of old Thain Paladin. ‘Come now, drink this down. It’s bitter, but we cannot help that.’

Pippin half-raised a hand to the cup, but let it fall again as Woodruff pressed the cup to his lips. He sipped, made a face, but downed half the contents of the cup before the healer pulled it away. ‘Good lad,’ she said. ‘Bravely done.’ Her eye went over the straining chest once more. ‘It’s easing a bit,’ she said encouragingly. ‘Let’s try to get the rest down, shall we?’ Pippin nodded slightly and accepted the brew, drained the cup, and let his head fall back.

His cousin’s breath was coming easier, Ferdi thought, and with the realisation his own breathing settled into a steadier rhythm. ‘That’s it, cousin,’ he said, crouching before Pippin, taking the limp hands in his own to give them an encouraging squeeze. For the first time he noticed the marks on the wrists. He knew them at once for what they were. His own wrists bore fading scars from the ropes that had chafed them, when he’d been captured by ruffians during the Troubles.

He raised his eyes to Pippin’s chest, reading a story there. There were knots and lumps standing out against the skin. ‘His ribs,’ he whispered.

‘Crushed,’ Woodruff said succinctly. ‘It’s a wonder he breathes at all.’

‘The story about the troll,’ Ferdi said. ‘He made a joke of it.’

‘Would the Tooks have believed him, had he said the story was true?’ Woodruff said irritably. ‘I learned a good deal from the head healer at Brandy Hall. He asked me to meet him halfway, at the Crowing Cockerel, in the early days after Thain Peregrin’s arrival, and we had a long talk.’

Her fingers circled one of the scarred wrists, feeling for the pulse there. ‘Orcs,’ she said, following Ferdi's gaze. ‘The whipmarks are theirs as well.’

Ferdi nodded, stunned. Pip had not spoken of that aspect of his journeying; he’d only talked of the sights he’d seen and the people he’d met, and tall towers and great battles, but it had all seemed so far away, so unreal to his listening cousins. ‘Walking trees,’ he said numbly. ‘I suppose they were real, too?’

‘I don’t know that I’d go that far,’ Woodruff said briskly, her usual cheerfulness returning as she saw her patient relaxing, his breaths more regular. ‘Come now,’ she added. ‘Let us tuck him up in his bed.’ She shot a stern look at Ferdibrand. ‘The Tooks need not hear about this little incident,’ she said firmly. Sandy was nodding; evidently he was already in on the secret.

‘They won’t hear about it from me,’ Ferdi said.

4/22/04