Chapter 30. Day of Rest

The day of the races dawned bright and sunny. Ferdi awakened to a whispered argument: Hally and Rosemary were having a difference of opinion over who would stay by Ferdi’s side and who would take their little ones to see the races.

 ‘Why don’t you both go?’ he asked sleepily.

 ‘Ferdi! You’re awake!’ Rosemary said, turning to the bed.

 ‘Not really,’ Ferdi yawned. He stretched cautiously, and was rewarded by only a slight pang from the leg. ‘I feel as if I could go back to sleep and sleep the day away.’ The after-effects of the sleeping draught put truth into his tone and Rosemary smiled, unsuspicious.

 ‘Well, let us get some food into you before you drift away again,’ she said fondly. Hally helped Ferdi to sit up, propping the pillows behind him.

 ‘You both ought to go,’ Ferdi said again as a plate full of eggs, bacon, potatoes, crispy little bangers, toast and jam was placed before him. ‘It would be a shame to miss the races.’

 ‘They’ll go on all day,’ Rosemary said, tucking a serviette under her brother’s chin. ‘Hally can watch in the morning and I can watch in the afternoon, or the other way round.’

 ‘But you hardly ever take a day for a holiday,’ Ferdi argued. ‘You ought to...’

 ‘Your food will go cold,’ Rosemary said. Her brother hated cold food. This did not turn him from his course as she’d intended. He obediently stuffed a forkful of eggs in his mouth and continued to argue.

 ‘There’ll be a healer on duty,’ he said, ‘several, as a matter of fact, in case someone comes a cropper and is carried back from the races. I don’t need you sitting on me.’

 ‘Who’s to keep you in the bed?’ Hally said, openly sceptical.

Ferdi snorted. ‘The next sleeping draught’ll do that, or the pain draught will,’ he said. ‘Probably as soon as I finish my breakfast they’ll be bringing me tea with drops, or brandy with powders, or a lovely herbal concoction to send me off again.’ This was not quite as likely as it sounded; the healers had been stretching out the time between the stronger potions. The bitter willow-bark tea, however, still appeared quite regularly. As a matter of fact, Fescue was hovering in the doorway with a covered cup. ‘See?’ Ferdi said triumphantly, waving his fork.

Thus heralded, the healer’s assistant crossed into the room with a smile. ‘Why don’t you go on?’ she said. ‘We can watch with Ferdibrand this day. You take a holiday.’ She turned her smile on Ferdi. ‘Your brother’s ever so much better than he was.’

 ‘That’s what worries me,’ Rosemary said lightly, but the frown did not leave her forehead.

 ‘Go on now,’ Fescue urged. ‘Are you ready for the draught, Ferdi?’

 ‘I’m always ready for one of those,’ Ferdi said gallantly, but the face he made belied his words and Rosemary laughed. ‘You can come back and tell me all about the races,’ Ferdi said, ‘but I shall feel just terrible if you miss a holiday together on my account.’ This was truth, and Rosemary relaxed after looking sharply into his face for a long moment.

She leaned over to kiss his forehead. ‘Fever’s gone,’ she said. ‘That’s good. Stay in the bed, little brother!’

 ‘Mmmm,’ Ferdi answered noncommittally. He moved against the pillows and said, ‘I think I’ll take a few more winks now.’

 ‘You do that,’ Hally said, pulling the propping pillows away. ‘Come along, Rosemary. The healers can be trusted to do their part.’

 ‘Indeed we can,’ Fescue said.

Rosemary allowed herself to be persuaded as she saw Ferdi’s lids flutter and his breathing become steady and even.

Mayor Samwise had already opened the festivities when they arrived and laid out their blanket upon the hill overlooking the racecourse. It was crowded, but the other hobbits upon the hillside jammed closer to make room for the latecomers. ‘What heat is this?’ Hally said to a neighbour as the ponies below took the far turn at a breathtaking pace. Only the two fastest would move up, to race against other winners of the early heats in the quarter final races to come later.

 ‘Third,’ the neighbour said, his eyes on the ponies. ‘Go Brightbeam!’ he shouted suddenly. Hally politely refrained from questions until the heat was finished. The other hobbit was in a good humour, his favourite having finished second. He was ready to relax and talk as the ponies for the fourth heat were made ready. ‘Did you see the Thain racing?’ he said, sitting back for a sip of his cold tea.

 ‘The Thain is racing?’ Hally said in surprise. ‘Himself, on his own pony?’

 ‘Aye, he’s a regular Took, he is,’ the neighbour said approvingly. ‘Doesn’t hire a hobbit to ride a pony for him, but does the dirty work with his own hands.’

 ‘Won the second heat handily,’ the wife said approvingly. ‘There’s no one here to touch that Socks for speed.’

They watched the fourth heat, cheering on a pony from Pincup, and relaxed in the break between heats. The horn blew to warn the riders of the fifth heat to make ready.

 'That little Pincup pony is full of fire!' Hally said admiringly.

 'The Thain's Socks is faster,' the neighbour's wife said again. 'There's no one here to challenge him, I'd say.'

 ‘Penny might,’ Robin, Hally’s eldest son, said loyally. ‘That’s her, down there.’

 ‘What colour?’ the Took said, craning to follow the pointing finger.

 ‘Green,’ Robin said, and their neighbours were able to pick out the emerald green colours the rider wore.

 ‘She looks just like Socks,’ said another hobbit who’d been following the conversation.

 ‘His daughter,’ Hally confirmed.

Their neighbour choked on his cold tea as he laughed suddenly. ‘I remember now!’ he said triumphantly when he got his breath back. ‘That’s Ferdibrand’s mare! There was the matter of a fence that was jumped, and Ferdi found himself owning two mares instead of one, after a time. But is he well enough to ride?’

 ‘Hildibold is riding her,’ Rosemary said.

 ‘Cannot tell one rider from another, when they have their scarves pulled up to keep out the dust,’ the neighbour said. ‘Could be Hilly or Ferdi or a hobbit from Bywater on her, for that matter.’

 ‘Doesn’t matter who rides her as long as she wins,’ Robin said stoutly. The older hobbits laughed and their neighbour lifted his mug of cold tea in a toast.

Penny won her heat handily, and there was much celebrating on their part of the hillside. There was some speculation as to when she’d face Socks, but one wise old hobbit settled the matter; he’d watched plenty of races in his time. Winners of the even-numbered heats would face each other in the next round, and the odd-numbers would face each other. Thus, Socks and Penny had no chance of meeting this early in the day.

***

Hilly came, dusty as he was, to the infirmary to report to Ferdi on the results of Penny’s first heat. ‘She won by a length,’ he said, ‘but there was no real challenge. She was out for a rest-day stroll, and if I’d wanted her to move faster I’d’ve been in trouble.’

 ‘How about the next race?’ Ferdi said.

 ‘There’ll be something for her to put her teeth into,’ Hilly said, ‘but it’s only the quarter finals. She won’t face Socks until the semi, or even the final race.’

 ‘Final race would be better for our part,’ Ferdi said. ‘The longer I can linger here the better for our plan.’

  ‘Do you really think you can ride the races, and no one the wiser?’ Hilly said.

 ‘Why not?’ Ferdi said. ‘It’s dusty, and you’re riding with a scarf about your face... I can hop onto Penny’s back, ride her, sit upon her back in the winner’s circle, plead weariness in your voice,’ and he said the last words in a passable imitation of Hilly, indeed, ‘ride her back to the stables, switch shirts with you, and hobble back to my bed before they’re done celebrating on the field.’

 ‘You’re the tricksy one, you are,’ Hilly said in admiration. ‘Well, then,’ he said, ‘I’ve got Tolly watching your mare, walking her around to keep her limber. I had better get back.’

 ‘Wouldn’t want you to miss the next race and be scratched,’ Ferdi said as Fescue appeared in the door bearing yet another covered cup.

 ‘That would never do,’ Hilly said, rising carefully so as not to scatter any more dust. As it was Fescue was frowning at him. ‘You get some rest.’

 ‘He will,’ Fescue promised. ‘And you take yourself and your dust off!’ Hilly did.

***

They weren’t giving him anything stronger than willow-bark tea, Ferdi was glad to note. The morning grogginess had quite worn off by midday. Still, he stayed obediently in the bed and did not excite himself when Hilly returned some time after the noontide meal to announce Penny’s triumph in the quarter finals.

 ‘And in the semi final race?’ he asked. ‘Who will she face?’

 ‘Socks is still racing on the “other side of the card”,’ Hilly said. ‘Looks as if father and daughter won’t have their little stroll until the final race this evening.’

 ‘Ah,’ Ferdi said wistfully for Fescue’s benefit. ‘How I wish I could be there to see it.’