Chapter 3. Halfway to Teatime

Halfway to teatime a tap came at the door to the Master’s study and Berilac stuck his head in. ‘He’s awake,’ he said peremptorily. ‘Ossilan says if you wish to speak to him be quick about it; he expects Pip to eat and fall asleep again rather quickly.'

 ‘Is he sprinkling powders in Pippin’s food?’ Merry said. ‘I cannot believe my cousin would willingly take a sleeping draught after sleeping nearly the day through.’

 ‘Merry,’ Saradoc said quietly, rising from the Master’s massive desk. ‘Mind the shop, if you please, Berilac?’

Berilac nodded, and Saradoc and Merry left the study.

Saradoc had been keeping an eye on his son most of the day, except for the brief times when he sent Merry away on an errand, or when he himself went to see how Pippin was faring. Pippin had been asleep, of course, and Saradoc had left orders that he was to be informed of his nephew’s wakening.

Walking the corridors to the living quarters, Saradoc pondered how much to tell his son. At last he said, ‘Merry, you know Pippin was badly injured. Those dratted creatures...! He’ll spend the next few days much as a babe would; when he’s not eating he’ll likely be asleep.’

 ‘Of course,’ Merry said too briskly.

The Master had made note of his son’s abstraction, the slight tremble in Merry’s fingertips, the shadows beneath his eyes; and when Merry had laid a sheaf of papers upon the great desk he’d relied more on his left hand than his right. Now outside Pippin’s door Saradoc stopped and took up Merry’s right hand. It was icy cold.

 ‘Are you well, Son?’ he said, beetling his bushy eyebrows.

Merry made move as if to snatch his hand away, but it seemed his arm was troubling him. Saradoc tightened his hold, gazing up into his son’s face. ‘I could order you to your own bed,’ he said softly.

 ‘I’m well, Father,’ Merry insisted. He looked to the door. ‘Come now, Ossilan said we must be prompt.’

Saradoc nodded, released his son, and opened the door. Empty chairs to either side bespoke the presence of servants called into the room. Ossilan had issued orders that Pippin was not to be left alone for a heartbeat.

Indeed, Pippin was snuggled in Diamond’s embrace whilst two cheery hobbitservants prepared cups of tea, a plate of cake and sandwiches, and a bowl of custard laced with cream. They broke off their discussion to nod to the Master, and then one moved to the bed, to spread a large serviette in preparation for the meal.

 ‘You’re not going to feed me like a babe, Dob?’ Pippin protested.

 ‘Ah but you’re not going to let me get some practice in?’ Dob said with a grin. ‘My own babe is but a month or two from coming into the world, you know, and what if I’m not ready?’

 ‘But...’ Pippin began, only to see Merry and Saradoc in the doorway. ‘Merry! Uncle!’

 ‘Nephew,’ Saradoc said in similar vein, crossing to the bed. He gently took up one bruised hand. ‘You look like something the cat dragged in.’

 ‘Bless her heart,’ Pippin said. ‘At least she didn’t leave me lying about in the yard.’ He looked past Saradoc to Merry, still hovering in the doorway. ‘Now then, Merry, you may enter. It’s not catching, they tell me.’

Merry took a shuddering breath, and Saradoc dismissed the servants with a glance. Dob put down the bowl of custard and patted the young master softly on the shoulder as the servants exited. He’d heard how this had not been Pippin’s first encounter with Orcs, nor Merry’s.

 ‘Merry,’ Saradoc said quietly, and Merry blinked, seeming to return from far away, and smiled.

 ‘Well, Pippin,’ he said. ‘They have you eating custard now! I thought you swore off the stuff.’

 ‘They tell me they put brandy in this time,’ Pippin said. ‘I’m willing to try it.’

 ‘Seems an awfully roundabout way to have some brandy,’ Merry observed, crossing to the bed. ‘Why not simply pour a glass?’

 ‘More difficult to spoon it into me that way, I’m told,’ Pippin said. ‘How ever will Dob find his baby’s mouth, if he doesn’t practice on something rather larger?’

Diamond rolled her eyes. ‘If he practices on your over-generous mouth, beloved,’ she began, bringing a chuckle from all, though Pippin’s ended in a wince.

 ‘I do wish you wouldn’t make me laugh,’ he said plaintively, and Diamond smiled and kissed him with careful precision on the tip of his ear.

 ‘We’ll see his custard finds its rightful place, Niece,’ Saradoc said, taking up the bowl. ‘You go and find some fresh air. Esmeralda’s at tea in the second parlour if you’d care to join her.’ Or she would be. Saradoc had arranged for tea to be served there, and had sent word to his wife, even though teatime was properly more than an hour off.

 ‘Don’t let him get up,’ Diamond said firmly, easing Pippin against the pillows.

 ‘I’d heard about this morning,’ Saradoc said in reply, stirring the custard. ‘Come along, then. Here’s the old owl,’ he added, lifting a spoonful as he settled into the chair by the bed. ‘He has a fat mouse in his grip, and he’s on his way to the hole in the old oak...’

Pippin obediently opened his mouth for the spoonful, as best he could, and rolled his eyes at Diamond. Laughing, she slipped from the room, and they heard her speak briefly to the hobbitservants seated on either side of the doorway before the door shut completely.

Merry absently helped himself to a cup of tea and some sandwiches while Saradoc fed the better part of the custard to Pippin. At last Pippin half-raised a hand, saying, ‘That’s more than plenty, Uncle, and thank you.’

Merry took the bowl from his father’s hand and replaced it with a plate of sandwiches, then busied himself with pouring out tea. He was a long time about stirring the sugar into Saradoc’s cup before turning again. Saradoc looked from son to nephew. ‘Well then,’ he said.

 ‘Here you are,’ Merry said with false cheer, presenting his father’s cup. He turned to Pippin with another. ‘Ossilan said your muscles would be tied in knots this day,’ he said, raising the cup in a querying manner.

 ‘My thanks,’ Pippin said, and Merry nodded and lifted the cup to his cousin’s mouth for him to sip, watching closely that he should not tilt it too far and inundate Pippin or spill the tea.

Saradoc sipped at his cup and put it down. ‘We’ve sent messengers throughout Buckland,’ he said, ‘and put the gates up on the Bridge, though it might be too late for that. If any bands of the creatures have crossed into the Shire proper, I’d imagine them to be hiding in the Woody End. We’ve sent word to the Rangers, alerted the Bounders and Shirriffs, and sent a body of armed hobbits to ride to the Smials to inform the Thain.’

 'You ought to inform the Mayor as well,' Pippin said. 'After all, the post is vulnerable...'

 'Of course,' Saradoc said. 'We sent messengers to the Mayor as well. I imagine he'll take care of the Shire-Post. Undoubtedly the Thain will call a muster...'

 ‘We scoured the ruffians out of the Woody End right enough, didn’t we, Merry?’ Pippin said in between sips of his tea. He sank back against the pillows, his eyelids already drooping. ‘Shouldn’t be that much trouble...’ he yawned. ‘A body of sturdy Tooks and Tooklanders...’

 ‘We’ll find out first if any other Shire-folk have been missing livestock,’ Saradoc said. He hesitated, but pressed by the need for information he ploughed ahead. ‘Were there others that you know of? Signs of more in the camp?’

 ‘If there were others, I’d never have got out again, I daresay,’ Pippin said. ‘After that tree obligingly flattened their cook who’d been left behind to take care of supper preparations, I sawed away at my bonds, but I swooned for a good part of the time...’

Merry’s lips tightened at “supper preparations” and he burst out, interrupting his cousin. ‘I ought to have been with you, Pippin!’

Pippin’s sleepy eyes opened wider and he sat up a little. ‘Merry!’ he said in surprise. ‘After that knock on the head you had the other day, are your brains still addled?’

Saradoc fought down a chuckle. It wasn’t comical, really it wasn’t, but somehow Pippin was so often able to make him laugh, even in the grimmest moments.

 ‘I...’ Merry began.

 ‘If you’d been with me you’d be a heap of bones alongside mine at this moment, I’ve no doubt,’ Pippin said firmly.

 ‘But...’ Merry said. Saradoc hid a grin. With a Took at full boil it was impossible to toss more than a word at a time into the pot.

 ‘As it was, you came in the nick, the very nick,’ Pippin said earnestly. ‘They were all set to begin their sport when we heard the sound of your horn...’ He swallowed hard and a sick expression crossed his face, but he quickly mastered himself. ‘Why, the party was over before it could properly begin! They were that put out, let me tell you, at the thought of party-crashers...’

Merry’s hands had begun to tremble and Pippin reached with an effort to take the cup from him. ‘Good tea,’ he said, draining the cooling dregs and making a face.

Saradoc laughed and rose. ‘How about some that’s hot, at least?’ he said, taking the cup. ‘Merry, sit yourself down.’

By the time he’d poured out fresh cups and turned back to the bed, Pippin had fallen asleep. Merry leaned forward in the chair watching him, a haunted expression on his face. Saradoc left the cups and moved to his son’s side, laying a gentle hand on Merry’s shoulder. ‘All’s well,’ he said in a low voice.

 ‘All’s not well,’ Merry said explosively, though he kept his voice low to avoid disturbing his cousin. ‘Look at him! If I’d only been able to save him—’

 ‘You did save him,’ Saradoc said, his tone brooking no contradiction. Merry looked up, his eyes brimming. ‘You did,’ Saradoc said more gently. ‘Believe me, Merry. He had the right of it. Your horn-call came just at the nick of time, as he said, and your strategy, marching a body of Brandybucks into the Forest bold as brass, as if inviting the creatures to assail them, while others shadowed them under cover to meet the attack... why, it was brilliant! You saved a lot more lives than his, the other day.’

He decided not to share Esmeralda’s report of Pippin’s dreaming. Not yet. Instead he went to the door and jerked it open. ‘Dob,’ he said, ‘I want you to sit with Peregrin until his wife returns.’

 ‘Yes, sir,’ Dob said, rising with a nod. ‘Tea’s over and done, I take it?’

 ‘Over and done,’ Saradoc said. ‘I’ll send someone to clear away. Come along, Merry.’