Chapter 25. As if Nothing Had Happened

27 September, First Breakfast to Second Breakfast

‘Four o’ the clock,’ Paladin whispered to himself, hearing the chiming of the dwarf-made clock in the parlour. The smial was drowned in silence, the dark as deep as if it were not the time to arise for the milking, the start of a long day of the work that made up a farmer’s routine. He suppressed a groan as he sat up, careful not to disturb Eglantine. He’d give her a few more winks, he would, if he could.

He rose without jostling the bed and went to the kitchen, to get the fire going well and start the teakettle warming. Next it was time to wind the dwarf-made clock, faithful old friend. Then back to the kitchen, to look out on the day. A low mist shrouded the land, but when he looked straight up, he could see the cold light of the stars, staring back at him in silent warning.

…and why should he think that? Why should he think of warning? He shook himself in an effort to dismiss such nonsense. Honestly, he was turning into an old biddy of a worry-hen. Next thing you know, he’d be cackling in alarm. Hah!

He went next to Pippin’s room, for Ferdi was still in the bed there, closer to the kitchen and the heart of the smial than his own room would be. It had also been less distance to carry the hobbit, after he swooned.

He found another hired hobbit, Haldi, curled on the extra bed with a light blanket thrown over him. The watcher’s eyes opened at once at Paladin’s soft step, however, and he sat up. ‘He hasn’t said a word, Dinny, not since I’ve been here.’

‘How would you know?’ Paladin said.

Haldi sniffed. ‘I’m a light sleeper,’ he said. ‘Believe me, I’d’ve heard, if he’d made a sound.’

Paladin nodded, not quite satisfied, though it was true – that time a fox had crept in amongst the chickens, when a board was loose, Haldi had been the one to hear the commotion and raise the alarm, even though he was one of many in the hired hobbits’ room, amidst a certain amount of snoring. He moved closer to Ferdi, to scrutinise the sleeping hobbit’s face. Still pale, he thought. He touched the forehead lightly with the back of his hand. Neither cold, nor fevered.

Ferdi stirred under his touch, moaned a little, sighed, and was suddenly awake. ‘Yes?’ he said, blinking sleepily. ‘You wanted something?’

‘You sound like yourself,’ Paladin said, without thinking.

A puzzled look crossed Ferdi’s face. ‘Well I’d like to know who else I’d sound like, and in the middle night if I’m any judge…?’

‘Four o’ the clock,’ Paladin corrected. ‘Teakettle’s on, and we’re about to start the milking.’

‘Why didn’t you say so?’ Ferdi said, thrusting away the bedcovers and sitting up. He blinked again, looking around in astonishment. ‘What am I doing here?’

Paladin was alarmed all over again. ‘You don’t know?’ he said. ‘You don’t know where you are?’

Ferdi gave a snort of exasperation. ‘What’s got into you, Dinny? O’ course I know where I am! In Pip’s room! But why?’

‘It was closer to the kitchen,’ Paladin said, subtly reassured. He cocked an ear. ‘Kettle’s whistling,’ he said, and left to deal with that matter.

‘Closer to the kitchen?’ Ferdi said, turning to Haldi.

That hobbit merely shrugged, as if to say, Nobody consulted me on the matter!, muttered something about seeing Ferdi at early breakfast, and made his escape.

‘Closer to the kitchen?’ Ferdi muttered to himself, and shook his head. What madness was this? He didn’t remember taking himself off to bed, but he couldn’t imagine someone moving him from his own bed to Pip’s as a prank. It seemed like much too much trouble. Unless… they were expecting Pip home in the night, and meant to surprise the tween with finding his bed occupied, as if to say, This is what happens when you tarry too long from home…!

He found his clothing draped over a chair, and quickly dressed. One good thing about being closer to the kitchen, he decided, was that it made for less of a walk to claim his early morning cup.

He laughed and joked with the hired hobbits gathered there, turned with the rest to greet Eglantine’s advent, as she hurried into the room, dressed but disheveled in her hurry. ‘Why,’ she said to Paladin. ‘Why didn’t you wake me?’

‘No need,’ Paladin said. ‘I thought I’d let you and the girls sleep a little longer, this morning, what with all the odd hours we’ve been keeping…’

Ferdi wondered what he might be talking about, but as his mouth was full of bread and jam he said nothing.

‘We’ll milk the cows,’ Paladin went on. ‘When they arise, they can gather the eggs and help you put second breakfast on the table.’

The dwarf-made clock chimed the half-hour, and Paladin arose from the table, draining his mug. ‘Half-past! The cows will be wondering why we’re so belated,’ he said. ‘Come along, lads, let’s look lively. Let’s get those mums milked and the pans set out for the cream to rise. Butter-making today, isn’t it?’

Eglantine nodded. What with the cream from last night, still keeping cold in the night’s chill, and today, they’d be making butter and packing it away in crocks, under salt, to preserve it for the winter months. ‘Cheese-making, as well,’ she said. ‘The cows are giving plenty of milk at present, and the cool weather will help it all to keep.’

Paladin nodded, washed his hands, and went out, followed by the hired hobbits.

Ferdi finished his tea and arose from the table. ‘Those ponies won’t curry themselves,’ he said. ‘Tell Nell I’ll look forward to seeing her at breakfast.’

‘Ferdi? Are you feeling quite well?’ Eglantine said.

He shot her a puzzled look. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’ he said.

She was at a loss to explain.

He shrugged, shook his head, and muttered something under his breath, that might have been, What is the matter with everyone this morning? But then he flashed Eglantine a brilliant smile, bowed grandly, and said, ‘I thank you for the delicious tea, Mistress!’ (and behind his hand he muttered, ‘E’en though I deem the Master made it!’), and taking his hand down again added, ‘and the bread-and-butter were superb! A lighter loaf could not be made, no, not even by the Elves, I warrant! My Nell’s a rare baker, she is…’ And with another grin, he was gone.

Eglantine sat down with a whoosh of breath. Ferdi certainly seemed to be back to himself, not even letting her get a word in edgewise, and off with a whistle to attend to his ponies’ early morning ablutions.

‘It was Pervinca’s baking,’ she murmured after him, though of course he wouldn’t hear.

It wasn’t long before her daughters emerged into the kitchen, blinking.

‘Go and gather the eggs, Nell,’ Eglantine said. ‘Vinca, stop here – we’ll chop potatoes and onions and put them on to fry – milking’s already done, or soon will be…’

‘Already done!’ Pervinca gasped, but at the same time Nell was asking after Ferdibrand.

‘He’s seeing to his ponies,’ Eglantine said with a smile. ‘Seems to be back to himself, as if nothing happened at all…’

Ferdi wasn’t quite “back to himself”, however. He had curried three of the ponies he was training for the autumn pony market.

(This event would take place during the harvest festival, when the farmers’ heaviest tasks would be complete and they would have some extra time for celebration. There would be plenty of food for feasting, new wine and ale for drinking, and a large market where a hobbit might buy just about anything at all needed to get through the winter. A large livestock sale took place, as well, buying and selling beasts. Ferdi’s ponies would be in great demand, beautifully trained as they were, and the competition would drive the prices higher than if he simply set a price for selling. He could quite easily keep a wife and family on the proceeds of the spring and autumn pony sales, as well as private commissions from hobbits who hired him to deal with their problem ponies.)

Now coming to the fourth stall that he leased from Paladin, and finding it empty, he scratched his head. ‘Strange, that,’ he said. ‘I don’t remember turning Tuppence out last night…’

And finding the next stall empty, he shrugged. ‘I must have done,’ he said to himself. He wouldn’t turn a pony out by itself, mind, but two or more – he might, if they’d been showing signs of restlessness, and he hadn’t time to work them properly, especially if the nights were mild and fine. He thought the nights were fine – the temperature had been mild when he’d left the smial, a bit misty perhaps, but the stars shone above and the air had a soft feel, that portended a warm day to come. Well, he'd fetch them after second breakfast, give them a quick brushing and then set to work, polishing their paces.

He came to the last of the half-dozen ponies in his current “batch of beauties” and soon was done with his early morning chores – currying and brushing, picking out feet, cleaning the soiled straw bedding and replacing it with fresh, supplying hay and oats and filling the water bucket.

‘There, my beauty!’ he said, stroking the shining neck of the last pony as she munched contentedly on her oats. ‘You finish your breakfast, and I’ll finish mine, and then we’ll go through your paces. It looks to be a fine day! …How would you like to spend the day in the field, kicking up your heels, Beauty?’

She snorted, and it might have been an answer or it might have been merely a snort, for she was quite occupied with the oats, but Ferdi laughed anyhow, gave her a final pat, and let himself out of her stall.

He was the last to enter the kitchen, after splashing water on his face and hands, and good smells greeted him.

‘Well now!’ he said, rubbing his hands together. ‘This is fine! Fried bacon, and potatoes and onions, and if I don’t miss my guess, fresh-baked currant buns into the bargain!’

‘You don’t miss your guess,’ Eglantine said.

Ferdi grinned and took his place at table, watching Eglantine and her daughters bustle about to put the last few touches on the meal.

‘How are you feeling today, Ferdi?’ Nod beside him wanted to know, and oddly enough several of the hired hobbits paused in their conversations to hear his answer.

‘I’m well!’ Ferdi said. ‘Never better!’

‘Well now, that’s good to hear,’ old Dobbin said from across the table, exchanging a significant glance with Nod, which Ferdi missed, as he was buttering his bread.

And the talk at table was as it always was, about the everyday things of life. The hired hobbits thought Paladin must have told Ferdi about his ponies, and Paladin thought perhaps Nod had taken on the task, for Ferdi did not ask about the beasts. He was taking the news very bravely, it seemed, applying himself to his plate and joining in the general conversation about the tasks of the day to come, and when Pip might be expected home, and prognostications for the harvest that they were in the midst of gathering. Of course there’d be time for discussion later – the loss of two ponies, out of the six he was preparing for market, would be a blow, and he might want to hire some of his time to Paladin or a neighbour, to make up for his loss of income.

But, Paladin reminded himself, a fine-spread table is not the right place to discuss business.

He nodded thanks to Eglantine as she refilled his tea, and gave the delicious food all the attention it deserved.

Matters of business could come later.

***

A/N: I found information on preserving butter to go through the winter months here: http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext05/cookh10h.htm What fun!