Chapter 31. Fighting Fire with Fire

Hilly stared at the flask in his hands as wild possibilities ran through his head, none of which of course was workable. In every case he fetched up against the immovable wall of a healer. He could not appeal to Nell; Woodruff would be guarding her last hours with her husband as fiercely as a dragon guards a treasure hoard. For the same reason Hilly would be unable to try to get the draught into Ferdi himself. Healers! he fumed. And then...

There was one healer to whom he might appeal, who might be detached enough from this situation to be able to listen to Hilly’s plea: Mardibold, his oldest brother. Mardibold, who chose to live in Tuckborough rather than within the Great Smials. He jumped to his feet in a rush to leave the Smials. Just in case the Talk had already begun to circulate that he’d lost his wits and been escorted from Ferdi’s quarters, he followed less-frequented corridors to an inconveniently-situated entrance.

As it was, a cousin called to him as he stepped out of the Smials, ‘What’s the rush, Hilly?’

 ‘Urgent message,’ he shot back, and broke into a run towards Tuckborough.

Lamps were shining their twilight welcome in the gleaming round windows as he pelted down the main street. No one was about: it was time for eventides, when families sat down together at table before readying young hobbits for bed.

He jumped over the low gate in front of the grand old smial and ran up the garden path. As he flung open the front door he had a terrible thought: what if Mardi had been called away, to attend a birth or a death bed or anything in between?

 ‘Uncle Hilly!’ his nephew Telebold said in surprise, coming from the kitchen with a well-filled serving platter in each hand. ‘What brings you here?’ He turned to shout towards the back of the smial. ‘Lili! Set another place at table! Uncle Hilly’s here!’

Little Hildibold came shouting from the yard to greet his uncle. Hilly tried to make himself heard even as he hugged the lad. ‘No, I...’ He was interrupted by the welcome sight of Mardibold emerging from his study.

The healer quickly restored order. ‘Hilly-lad, run and wash those hands of yours! And whilst you're at it, splash your face and run a cloth behind those ears! Telly, take your brother in hand...’

 ‘Come along, Hilly,’ Telebold said (to small brother, of course), giving a jerk of his chin, and soon father and uncle were left in peace.

 ‘Hilly,’ Mardi said warmly, catching the escort’s hands in his. ‘When did you get back? The Talk was, you actually were to meet the King!’

 ‘I did at that,’ Hilly said, ‘but this is not the time to talk of it. I need your help.’

 ‘My help?’ Mardi said, raising an eyebrow. He called after Telebold. ‘Have Lili make up a tray to bring to the study. Your Uncle Hilly and I have some business to discuss.’

 ‘Aye, Da!’ Telly answered, turning to give his uncle a curious look, but he obediently shepherded his younger brother towards the kitchen and soon a door closed on the little hobbit’s babble and the larger brother’s rejoinders.

Mardi guided Hilly into the study with a firm hand on his younger brother’s back, shutting the door behind them. ‘Sit down, Hilly,’ he said, and then took his own seat. ‘What is it this time, another wager gone sour?’

 ‘I don’t wager anymore, you know that,’ Hilly said impatiently. ‘It’s Ferdi!’

 ‘I’d heard he was taken ill last night at tea,’ Mardi said, leaning forward. ‘It was all the Talk at the Spotted Duck.’

 ‘And now they’ve given him up!’ Hilly said bitterly. ‘Without even a fight...’

Mardi whistled. ‘So soon,’ he muttered, and then added with a note of reproof in his voice, ‘The Old Gaffer’s Friend is no light matter. I’ve lost more patients to that malady than I care to think about. Of course we do all we can, but all too often...’

 ‘This,’ Hilly said, pulling out the flask and pushing it across the desk. ‘This could save him.’

 ‘What is it? Where did it come from?’ Mardi said, taking up the flask. ‘From the King?’ He opened it, sniffed, wet a cautious finger and tasted. His eyebrows rose again. ‘Where did you get this?’ he repeated.

 ‘It comes from the Outlands,’ Hilly said cautiously. If they thought it came from the Healer-king, all the better, though he wasn’t going to lie outright. ‘It could help Ferdi, if only...’

 ‘What is it? Some sort of medicine?’ Mardi asked, stoppering the flask after another inquiring sniff.

 ‘A healing draught,’ Hilly replied. ‘It puts one into a healing sleep...’

 ‘A sleeping draught? Out of the question!’ Mardi said. ‘Why, he’d be getting little enough breath as it is.’

 ‘Listen to me!’ Hilly snapped, and the older brother fell silent out of astonishment at being so addressed by his youngest brother. Hilly rapidly outlined his drowning in the bog, the following day’s chilling journey, his symptoms as they made camp, and then the effects of the draught.

 ‘That’s quite a story,’ Mardi said as Hilly finished and then looked at him expectantly. ‘So just what is it you want me to do?’

 ‘You were Woodruff’s chief assistant before she took the position of head healer in the Smials,’ Hilly said desperately. ‘Talk to her! Get her to see reason.’

 ‘But a sleeping draught,’ Mardi protested. ‘It goes against all...’

 ‘What does it matter at this point?’ Hilly cried. ‘What harm can it do? They’ve given him up!’

 ‘Harm,’ Mardibold said softly, giving Hilly a long measured look. ‘The first thing I learned at Woodruff’s elbow,’ he said, ‘before she ever taught me to count breaths or make a tincture or any other of the healing arts. The oath I took, brother, the first thing I learned was this: Do no harm. Even when there’s naught left to be done for good, still, we must do nothing to bring harm. Do you understand this, Hildibold?’

 ‘Of course I do,’ Hilly gritted. ‘But this might well do Ferdi a great deal of good instead, as it did me!’

 ‘We don’t know that the Old Gaffer’s Friend had got his claws into you...’ Mardi began.

 ‘But it might likely have been,’ Hilly argued. ‘I drowned, Mardi—my lungs were full of ice water. It would have been difficult to avoid the Gaffer’s Friend after such!’

 ‘True,’ Mardi said thoughtfully, with a chill at realising how close he’d come to losing his youngest brother. He rose abruptly from the desk. ‘Undo your shirt,’ he said. ‘I want to take a look at you.’

This was one healer’s examination Hilly did not protest. He submitted meekly to thumps, took deep breaths as instructed, and when Mardi was finished said only, ‘Well?’

 ‘You are that,’ Mardi admitted. ‘You drowned, you say? I’d never believe it, not from the sound of your breathing!’

 ‘You could ask Diamond, were she here,’ Hilly said. ‘Please, Mardi, there’s got to be a way to...’

 ‘Come along,’ Mardi said, turning to the door. ‘I’ll speak to Woodruff. But,’ he added, holding up a hand, ‘she’s likely to accuse me of going round the bend.’

 ‘You’re in good company,’ Hilly began, but his brother interrupted.

 ‘If they’ve given him up, he may be too far gone for this healing draught to help him,’ Mardi cautioned. ‘You were in the early stages, from what you’ve told me, while Ferdi may have been ill for some days before...’

 ‘But he may not be too far gone,’ Hilly argued. ‘All I know is he’s going farther as we speak.’

 ‘You have the right of it, little brother,’ Mardi said.

There was a tap at the study door and Mardi opened to admit Telebold, who carried a loaded tray. ‘Just put a damp cloth over the sandwiches and cosy the teapot, if you don’t mind, my lad,’ Mardi said. ‘Your uncle and I have a bit of business to attend to.’ And with that, he clapped his hat on his head, shouldered his cloak and gestured to Hilly to follow him out the door.

***

Hilly had not expected Mardi to win easily against Woodruff, but his brother was a bulldog when he sank his teeth into an issue. Still Woodruff stood firm in her defence of her patient, refusing to hear her former apprentice’s arguments.

She was furious when the bedroom door opened and a wan Pimpernel emerged. The head healer flashed scathing glances at Mardi and Hilly, saying, ‘If you won’t go of your own accord I’ll have you put out!’ before turning to Pimpernel with apologies.

 ‘No, wait!’ Nell said as Mardi turned away, pulling Hilly after him. ‘I heard...’ she faltered. Looking to Woodruff, she added, ‘If they say there’s something that might help...?’

 ‘You don’t give a sleeping draught to one who’s barely breathing!’ Woodruff said. ‘Nell, it would finish him.’

 ‘He’s finished already,’ Nell said. At Hilly’s exclamation of grief she raised a hand. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Not yet. But it’s not long, I think.’

Turning to Mardi she said, ‘Why do you think this would help Ferdi and not harm him?’

Mardi wasn’t sure the draught was harmless, but he gulped and ploughed ahead. Woodruff looked daggers at him as he said, ‘It helped my brother...’

Nell turned to the escort. ‘Hilly?’ she said softly.

Hilly stepped forward to take her hands in his. ‘It helped me,’ he said. ‘I know it can help Ferdi.’

Nell pulled her hands free to hold a demanding palm out to Mardi. ‘Give it to me,’ she said, her tone brooking no contradiction. ‘I’ll give it to him,’ she continued, looking from Mardi to Woodruff. ‘If it does him harm, at least I’ll have spared you the breaking of your healer’s oath.’

 ‘But Nell!’ Woodruff said.

Nell shook her head and turned away, closing the bedroom door firmly behind her.