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Jewels  by Lindelea

Chapter 37. The Steward of Buckland

'I'd like to take some time off, if I may,' Carodoc replied quietly to the Master's inquiry.

Saradoc stared in surprise. 'I can't think of the last day you've taken off,' he said.

'Then I suppose I'm overdue,' Carodoc replied with a smile.

'Certainly, certainly!' Saradoc answered. 'How much time do you need?'

'A week, perhaps. The young master ought to have little enough trouble keeping Hall and Land together whilst I'm gone. I hardly feel needed these days.'

'We ought to leave all the trouble to him and just go fishing,' Saradoc said.

'Might not be such a bad idea,' his steward chuckled. 'Well, then, I won't see you tomorrow.'

He did not volunteer where he would be going, and Saradoc respected his privacy.

***

Farmer Took looked up from the harness he was mending under cover of the overhang on the barn. He expected the lone traveller to pass by on the road that ran through the farm, and wondered what would send someone out in this drizzle. It was perfect for the crops, of course, but miserable to ride in. Ah, but staring after wayfarers would hardly get the harness mended. He went back to his work, his ears registering the gentle clop-clopping of the hoofs as they came nearer.

To his surprise, the pony stopped before him, and the rider slowly got down from the saddle. The Farmer recognized the stiff gait then; it was the Steward of Buckland. But what was he doing here?

He rose to meet the old hobbit, put down the harness, and extended a hand. 'Welcome,' he said. 'What brings you back so soon?'

The visitor smiled. 'You did say, as we were leaving, that we were welcome back at any time.'

Farmer Took nodded, his puzzlement growing. Of course he'd said it; it was the standard farewell from any host worth half his salt, but he hadn't really expected most of the guests to take the offer to heart. 'That I did,' he acknowledged. 'As I said.'

The steward smiled, as if he guessed the farmer's thoughts, and he probably did, being a shrewd old fellow, but all he said was, 'I find I simply did not get enough of your wife's excellent seedcake a fortnight ago.'

Farmer Took nodded, indicating that they should walk together to the house. A compliment it was, true, but if every hobbit who'd admired his wife's seedcake should come a-calling, well, their stores wouldn't last and the work would go wanting. He knew it must be something of import for the hobbit to ride here all the way from the Hall, but still he hesitated to ask. 'The young master,' he said, fitting his words around the title the steward would use, rather than the friendlier "Merry-lad". 'All is well with him, I hope?'

'Indeed,' the steward said. 'I left him well, and Miss Estella is visiting at the Hall with her family, and so I left him very well, indeed.'

'And all is well with the Master and the Mistress?' he asked.

Caradoc chuckled. 'Indeed,' he repeated. 'For were they not, I would hardly be riding away in search of seedcake, no matter how estimable the stuff might be!'

If the steward chose to keep his business to himself, Farmer Took was wise enough not to pry.

'Well, you're in luck, my wife just baked another batch today. It seems to be quite popular around these parts.'

Walking into the house, the steward spotted young master Took in the chair by the fire, feet propped up, a blanket over him, asleep. He nodded in that direction. 'How's he doing?'

'Getting better. It's slow, but sure.'

'When d'you suppose he'll be on his feet again?' Carodoc asked.

The farmer glanced sharply at the steward, sensing more than casual interest in the question. 'We're taking it slow,' he said. 'He nearly died, you know. It'll take him some time to come back,' he looked towards the sleeping Took and lowered his voice, 'if he comes back at all. Healer said...'

'I know what the healer said,' Carodoc replied, remembering Ossilan's warning. I don't really know what he's breathing with, the old healer had said. The illness pretty much did for his lungs. Half-breaths are the best he might hope for, and anything... dust, a whiff of smoke, a cold in the head that went to his chest... anything could carry him off.

But with care and time he'll recover, Saradoc had said, but the healer had only sadly shook his head.

'Well then,' the farmer went on. 'No use rushing these things; it only leads to trouble.'

'Are you going to put him to work, then?' the steward's eyes were shrewd.

The farmer shook his head. 'I'd like to have another son around, to help out...' His doubt was clear in his eyes.

'And your daughter could be a widow not long after the wedding,' Carodoc said bluntly, 'if not before.' He abruptly changed the subject. 'This fine drizzle came at just the right time, don't you think...?'

They talked of planting and harvest until the table was laid for tea.

***

Diamond gently took Pippin by the shoulder, 'Wake up, love, for it is time to eat.'

Pippin stretched in the chair, then complained, 'Seems as if it's always time to eat around here!'

'Ah, but there's a treat for tea,' Diamond coaxed. 'Mum has made some of her seedcake.'

'Now, that's worth getting up for,' Pippin said, as he allowed Diamond to help him up from the chair. He stopped in surprise at seeing Carodoc, and his face changed. 'Something's happened at the Hall?' he asked sharply.

The steward smiled reassuringly, 'All was well when I left, lad. Now sit yourself down.'

'Yes, you're holding the rest of us up,' Mistress Pearl said, smiling. 'Come and sit down, everyone.' She indicated the place where Carodoc was to sit, and he bowed to his host and took his seat.

The steward listened in silence to the chatter that went around the table, speaking only to answer a question directed at himself, but he smiled much, and enjoyed several helpings of cake.

'Miserable weather for travelling,' the farmer remarked. 'Where are you on your way to? Surprised the Master would send you out on such a day, were it not urgent business.'

'No, no urgent business,' Carodoc replied. 'I just saddled my pony and let him take me where he would.'

The farmer and his wife exchanged glances, then the farmer said, 'Well, the weather's too miserable for travelling any further tonight. Why don't you stay over, and go back in the morning.'

'Why, thank you,' the steward said, smiling. 'I will take you up on your kind offer.'

'If the weather continues drizzly, perhaps you'd like to stay a few days,' Mistress Took put in, with another glance to her husband, receiving the slightest of nods in reply. 'I'm sure young master Peregrin would enjoy having someone to chat with about the Hall.'

The steward nodded and smiled. 'I have no pressing matters of business at the moment,' he replied. He rose from the table. 'Thank you kindly for the meal,' he said, 'and for the rest of your hospitality.'

The farmer rose as well. 'Come then, let's have a smoke,' he said. 'Nothing like a good pipe after an excellent meal... I have some of Southfarthing's best here if you'd like.'

The farmer and the steward walked off companionably together.

Pippin stared after them, until he was interrupted by young Tad. 'How about a game of Kings, Pippin? I've figured out how you beat me last time.'

He smiled at the lad. 'So you're ready for a rematch? You're on!'

***

The Steward of Buckland stayed on through another two drizzly days. He and the farmer had many long, satisfying conversations about business while puttering about the barn, making what small repairs could be made in the wet weather.

The third day dawned fair, and the family scattered about to outdoor tasks that had been waiting for a dry day. Diamond settled Pippin by the fire, saying, 'I'll be back soon. I must help Mum with the washing.'

'I'll make sure the house doesn't creep away,' Pippin answered. 'They can be sneaky that way, if you don't keep a sharp eye on them.'

She laughed and kissed the top of his head. 'Keep your feet up,' she warned.

'Oh, aye, I must keep this stool from floating away on the breeze,' he answered, with a wiggle of his toes. 'Heavy are the responsibilities I must bear.' He squeezed her hand and let her go, and all was quiet in the smial, though the calling of the children blew in through the windows on the gentle breeze.

Pippin drowsed, and did not hear the steward enter.

'Mind if I join you?' Carodoc said, putting a hand on the back of the chair on the other side of the kitchen hearth. He apologised as Pippin awakened. 'Sorry, lad, I didn't see that you were sleeping. I just thought I'd have a seat, rest my old toes for a bit. Been walking about the farm this morning, to help settle that fine breakfast your Diamond and her mum stirred up.'

'Go right ahead,' Pippin said with an expansive gesture. 'I can't mind all the furniture by myself, as it is. We lost a bed just the other day...'

They sat in companionable silence for awhile, until Pippin stirred and asked abruptly, 'Why are you here?'

Carodoc chuckled. 'I suppose the whole family's asking that.'

Pippin shook his head, 'No, they're much too polite.' He met Carodoc's eyes. 'Did they send you to persuade me to go back to Tuckborough?'

Carodoc was startled, but on second thought he could see where the lad might get that idea. 'No, of course not.'

Pippin nodded, and silence stretched between them again.

Finally, the steward spoke. 'What sort of plans to you have?'

The younger hobbit sighed. 'I'm not sure,' he admitted. 'It's hard for someone in my position to make plans.' He raised his eyes to meet the steward's. 'Don't misunderstand me,' he said, 'The north-Tooks are wonderful people. I just don't intend to be kept as a pet for the rest of my days. As soon as I'm back on my feet I mean to find some kind of work.'

'What kind of work can you do?' Carodoc asked.

Pippin was quiet again, then said, 'I suppose there's not much call for knights of Gondor in these parts.'

'Not the last time I looked, no,' the steward answered, '...but there might be an opening for a new steward at the Hall, one of these days, to watch over the Brandybucks and the rest of Buckland, keep them out of trouble, as it were.' He smiled at Pippin's consternation. 'Don't forget to breathe, lad,' he added.

As Pippin stared at him, stunned, old Carodoc cocked his chin, looked consideringly at the younger hobbit, and went on. 'It would take lots of work on your part. There's much to learn.'

Pippin sat up straight in his chair. 'Did Merry put you up to this?'

Carodoc shook his head. 'The Master?' Pippin demanded.

'No, lad,' Carodoc said. 'This is no sinecure. It's my own idea, I haven't even talked to the Brandybucks yet. Sit back, don't stir yourself up so. You worry me, lad.'

Pippin obeyed, and as he relaxed, Carodoc continued. 'I have watched you, lad, over all these years.'

'I know,' the younger hobbit admitted ruefully, and the steward laughed.

'Not just to catch you in mischief, lad,' the steward said, smiling. 'Though I had to watch sharp enough for that...' Pippin laughed. 'Yes, you've been a handful, all right. Would you like a drink? No? Then wait a bit, I need to wet my tongue.'

Carodoc got up and poured himself some cool water from the pitcher on the shelf, then brought his glass back to the hearth and sat down. 'I learnt long ago, with my own lads, that so much of mischief is just a lively mind without enough to do,' he continued quietly. 'I've been watching you for years, lad,' he repeated. 'And I think you've a good head on your shoulders.'

He took a sip of his water. 'The Brandybuck lad I was training to take my place, well, the Old Gaffer's Friend took him a year ago,' he said quietly. 'I've been looking about ever since.' He fixed his gaze on his glass. 'I understand you're free of your previous obligations.'

'Oh, aye,' Pippin answered softly.

'I want you to consider coming to work under me,' Carodoc concluded. 'The Master will approve it, if I recommend it, and naught to do with him favoring you because you're his nephew. He trusts my judgement.'

The crackle of the fire was the only sound in the room for long minutes as the younger hobbit considered, and the older hobbit waited, watching the flames dance on the hearth. He could be patient. It was one of the skills he'd learnt as Steward to Buckland and the Brandybucks.

Hearing the young Took stir in his chair, Carodoc looked up to meet Pippin's eyes. Keen, they were, and intelligent, he thought, confirming his perceptions of a much younger Pippin, though the lad had been a jewel in the rough in those days. The Journey into the Outlands had rubbed away a lot of rough edges, he thought. Yet the younger hobbit held his tongue, and that was also a sign of his growing maturity, the old steward mused. He took a deep breath and decided to nudge the conversation along. 'How much time do you need to come to your decision?'

Pippin smiled, then sobered. 'When can I start?'





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