Chapter 19. A Matter of Business

Ferdibrand wakened slowly, unsure of where he was. He knew where he wasn’t—curled in a soft bed (his beloved Nell insisted on sinking into layers of softness when she retired, and so, of course, Ferdi must put up with the luxury), with the warmth of his wife snuggled against him. He was warm, indeed, but definitely alone, and he was lying on a hard surface.

He cracked his eyelids open to be assaulted by daylight brightness, and this, also, was wrong. When hunting he was up with the Sun, but it seemed this day that the Sun had left her bed well before he’d begun to stir. 

 ‘Awake at last,’ Pippin’s voice came from the same direction as the crackle of a cheery fire. ‘I was beginning to think you’d sleep the day away.’

Ferdi began to sit up abruptly but found himself groaning slowly upright. Odd, now, how he was wrapped in more than one blanket... three, perhaps? And lying close to the fire, though not close enough to roll in, were his sleep restless.

 ‘Would you like some tea?’ Pippin said. ‘Freshly brewed. I warmed the pot and poured the water over the leaves when you stopped snoring.’

 ‘I don’t snore,’ Ferdi muttered, and Pippin laughed.

Ferdi pulled a hand free from the blankets that wrapped him and rubbed his face, prying his eyes open enough to survey his surroundings. Memory returned as he recognised the clearing, and he threw back his coverings, saying, ‘Diamond!’

 ‘Steady now,’ Pippin said. ‘This stuff is hot!’ He extended a steaming cup to Ferdi and settled to the ground with his own cup.

 ‘But...’ Ferdi said.

 ‘She’s probably reached Pincup by this time, and is being feted and feasted and praised to the skies,’ Pippin said in satisfaction. ‘Quite a guard of honour accompanied her: dozens of Tookish archers. I imagine it made an impressive sight.’

 ‘The ruffians...’ Ferdi said.

 ‘Drink your tea whilst it’s hot,’ Pippin interrupted. ‘I went to a great deal of trouble, you know.’

 ‘But...’ Ferdi said.

 ‘Your tea,’ Pippin said implacably. His tone brooked no contradiction. Ferdi sipped at his tea. ‘That’s better,’ Pippin said with satisfaction. He rose and returned to the fire, adding over his shoulder, ‘I imagine you’re ravenous. I’ve been keeping a plate warm for you, as I know how you hate cold food.’

 ‘I...’ Ferdi said, as his cousin placed a plate on his lap and removed the cover with a flourish.

 ‘Kidneys and kedgeree and lovely eggs scrambled with cream, and cheese melted in,’ Pippin said. ‘Looks so good, I think I’ll serve myself another portion.’ He rose again to go over to the fire.

 ‘But...’ Ferdi said.

 ‘Eat!’ Pippin said over his shoulder, using his most Thainly tone. Ferdi ate.

Pippin returned with his own plate and sat down beside Ferdi. ‘I wonder why they call it kedgeree?’ he said conversationally.

 ‘I’ve always wondered where it came from in the first place,’ Ferdi said, ‘It hardly seems hobbity.’

 ‘Some wandering Man undoubtedly brought it to the Shire, in the days before the Troubles,’ Pippin said.

That reminded Ferdi... but when he tried to bring up Jack and the boys, Pippin firmly turned the subject.

 ‘Not much time now, before I must be at the Bridge to meet the King,’ he said. ‘I thought to take Hilly as escort, in view of his clear-headedness during the recent difficulty. What do you think?’

Ferdi had an idea that discussing the “recent difficulty” would not be a possibility, at least over breakfast, and so he answered, ‘That would be a great honour, and one that Hilly has earned, certainly, from what Diamond told me.’ He’d had the impression that Regi or himself would accompany Pippin, but it was all too likely that he was in disgrace for falling asleep while on guard. It was a good thing he’d firmly tied the ruffians... He imagined Pippin, upon his arrival, had detailed some of the archers to escort them to the Bounds, where the Rangers patrolled.

Suddenly his breakfast was sitting uneasily on his stomach. He put his fork down.

 ‘More?’ Pippin said, still working on his own portion.

 ‘No,’ Ferdi said. ‘I couldn’t manage another bite,’ he added honestly.

He took a few deep breaths to settle the food, and said, ‘Why are we here?’

 ‘Really, Ferdi, not over breakfast!’ Pippin said, lifting a forkful to his mouth. ‘Save the philosophical discussions for brandy, after a fine dinner.’

 ‘Pippin...!’ Ferdi said in annoyance, and his cousin laughed.

 ‘That’s better,’ Pippin said. ‘You’ve been much too subdued since wakening. Now you sound more like yourself.’

 ‘You’re not making sense,’ Ferdi grumbled.

 ‘It’s a failing of mine,’ Pippin said serenely. He cleared his plate and wiped his mouth, then got up, and taking Ferdi’s plate he walked over to a basket sitting by the fire. He deposited the plates and cutlery in the basket and lifted the cosied teapot that sat nearby. ‘More tea?’

 ‘No, thank you very much,’ Ferdi said, wondering.

 ‘Lovely family, the Tunnelys,’ Pippin said. ‘Packed up this amazing picnic breakfast and when they see the smoke rising from us putting out the fire they’ll come to clear away and fetch the dishes and whatnot and look after the washing up.’

 ‘Tunnely?’ Ferdi said.

Pippin waved vaguely. ‘Nearest farm family,’ he said. ‘Farmer Tunnely is out ploughing as we speak.’ He picked up a bucket sitting by the fire and began to pour the contents on the flames, sending smoke and ashes hissing high. ‘Come along,’ he said. ‘Time is wasting!’

 ‘Where are we going?’ Ferdi said in wonder, and then kicked himself for a fool. Of course, they’d be going on to Pincup, to the Jonquil Celebration, and then back to the Cockerel, where Regi would have the Thain’s coach waiting for the journey to the Bridge.

 ‘Out and about,’ Pippin said. ‘I needed to take care of a matter of business, and as you were still asleep when everyone else was rested and ready to go, I told Tolly I’d take you for my escort when you wakened, and all the rest could accompany Diamond and Farry to Pincup. Very convenient.’

 ‘Convenient,’ Ferdi muttered. Either he was feverish, or Pippin was being more obscure than usual.

 ‘Come along,’ Pippin repeated. Ferdi extricated himself from the blankets, rolled them neatly, and picked them up. ‘Just leave them by the basket,’ Pippin instructed him. ‘We borrowed them off the Tunnelys, you know.’

Ferdi didn’t know, but he left the roll of blankets as directed and followed Pippin to the waiting ponies. Starfire tossed his head to see Ferdi, and he stroked the velvet nose. ‘Sorry, lad,’ he said. ‘Not an apple or carrot to be had.’

 ‘He had a nosebag of oats earlier,’ Pippin said. ‘He’ll be fine.’

 ‘You’ve been busy,’ Ferdi observed as the two mounted their ponies.

 ‘Thain’s work is never done,’ Pippin said brightly. He turned his pony’s head towards the southeast and leaned into a steady ground-eating trot. Of course Ferdi followed.

The day was bright and fair, the fog burned away by the hard-working sun.

They trotted and cantered by turn, the miles spinning away behind them. Ferdi rode the fastest pony in the Shire, and Pippin’s mare, a daughter of his fiery Socks, was well-matched. It was not long after noontide that they crested a long hill and saw a silvery ribbon off to their left that sparkled in the sun.

 ‘The Brandywine,’ Pippin said. ‘We’re not far from the Bounds, now.’

Ferdi nodded. He’d never been quite so far to the east before. He knew the southern border of the Shire ran all the way to the River, but he hadn’t set eyes on the Brandywine until now. It didn’t seem all that wide to his eyes, but then, they were still some distance from its banks, and not likely to approach any nearer.

They rode until they passed a marker half-buried in the grass. ‘Outside the Bounds, now!’ Pippin called, and turned his mare’s face to the West, towards a wooded area outside the borders of the Shire. Ferdi knew with a sudden chill that Rangers were to be found there. Undoubtedly Pippin had sent a messenger ahead to arrange a meeting. He fought down a desire to turn Starfire’s face back towards Tuckborough, to turn away from the dark wood. It was likely that the trees bore grisly warnings intended to discourage Men from entering the Shire.

 ‘They ought to have been expecting us,’ Pippin muttered as they rode under the shadow of the trees. Evidently he thought a Ranger or two should be waiting at the verge.

 ‘Perhaps they had a few matters of business to manage,’ Ferdi said, trying to speak lightly, though his throat was tight with dread. He’d been in a similar wood, some distance to the West. After the Ranger told him of the fate of ruffians, he’d had to go and see for himself. He’d sent Tolly and the Shirriff back to the Shire, saying he’d follow shortly. The bodies hanging from the trees had haunted his dreams for days afterwards.

 ‘Perhaps,’ Pippin said. ‘But it’s a long ride back to Pincup, and I’d like to arrive before the middle night! They’ll be up betimes to provide a breakfast feast before we ride to the Cockerel...’ He broke off with an oath, reining his mare roughly against Starfire to turn him from his course. ‘Don’t look, Ferdi!’ he warned.

Of course, Ferdi’s eyes were drawn to where they shouldn’t. Involuntarily he cried out, choking, ‘No!’ Through the trees he could see one of the Rangers kick away a log on which a Man was standing, hands bound behind him, noose around his neck, and move to kick away another log under an adjacent figure.