Chapter 3. Message from the Thain

’What is that boy up to now?’ Eglantine asked in exasperation, brushing an errant curl back from her face. They were in the midst of making apple butter, a hot and sticky prospect on this warm autumn day.

Pippin was yelling wordlessly outside. ‘Perhaps he got into another wasps’ nest,’ Pearl said, wiping the back of one hot hand against her hot face.

’It’s a rider,’ Nell said, passing by the window with another bowl filled with apples ready for the pot. Eglantine moved so that she could see out the window.

 ‘So it is,’ she said. A rider was moving at an easy trot down the road from Tookbank, and young Pip was pelting alongside the fence waving a stick in welcome and yelling at the top of his lungs.

 ‘It’s the head of escort!’ Pearl said.

 ‘Are you sure?’ Eglantine said, squinting at the tall figure.

 ‘That’s a piebald pony he’s riding, and he’s tall,’ Pearl said, ‘and he’s dressed like a Smials Took.’ The fine wool of the rider’s cloak billowed behind him in the breeze of his passing. ‘He’s turning in at the lane!’ she added.

Eglantine uttered an exclamation of vexation. ‘Such a time as he chooses, with us in the middle of peeling and boiling. Quick, Nell, put on the kettle. Pearl, splash cold water on your face, tie on a fresh apron and see what he wants.’

 ‘Yes’m,’ Pearl said, her heart beating unaccountably fast and her face flushed with more than the heat of the stove. She hurried to comply.

She heard the singing of the teakettle as the head of escort rode up before the door and dismounted with a flourish and a bow. ‘Good day, Miss Pearl,’ he said politely.

 ‘Good day, sir,’ she replied, making a courtesy of her own.

 ‘Is your father at home?’ he asked.

She gestured towards the fields to the West. ‘Cutting hay,’ she said. ‘Would you care for a cup of tea?’

He shook his head. ‘I am sorry,’ he said with real regret. ‘I dare not stay; I am on a commission for the Thain and he expects me back promptly.’ Actually it was Mistress Lalia who expected him back promptly. Thain Ferumbras was head of Tookland in name only; his mother held the reins firmly in her grasp. He bowed again, saying, ‘Please convey my warmest regard to your mother and sisters.’ He didn’t have to convey any sort of regard to Pippin, who had come panting up from the field still brandishing his stick.

 ‘I shall,’ Pearl said. ‘Perhaps another time.’

 ‘Perhaps,’ the head of escort said with a smile. Looking down at the flushed and puffing lad, he said, ‘Hullo, Pip! Would you like to ride with me out to the field to show me where to find your father?’

 ‘I’d be honoured!’ Pip said between gasps, dropping his stick at once. Tall Isumbold lifted the lad to the saddle, then swung up behind him. ‘Fare thee well, fair maiden!’ he said as his pony jigged beneath the double burden.

 ‘Fare thee well,’ she answered in kind, and watched the twain ride away.

Eglantine came to the door behind her. ‘Tea’s on,’ she said. ‘He could not stay?’

 ‘He brings a message to Da,’ Pearl said. ‘And that is all he brings.’

 ‘Ah,’ Eglantine nodded wisely. ‘Lalia is an exacting Mistress. I imagine she has given him just so much time and no more than that to deliver his message and return to the Great Smials.’

Pearl laughed. ‘And Pip wants to be part of the Thain’s escort some day,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘How he would chafe at such restraints!’

 ‘Well, Lalia’s over an hundred now; she won’t live forever,’ Eglantine said. And there’s a mercy for you, she thought but didn’t add. ‘By the time your brother is old enough to be considered for the position, there’ll likely be another Thain. And hopefully a better one, she added silently to herself. One simply did not speak such thoughts aloud. ‘Ah well, it’s all moot anyhow. Your brother’s destined to be a farmer like his da and his grand-da before him,’ she finished. ‘Come now, child, let us not let the good tea go to waste. The last pot of apples will be bubbling away for a little before it wants our attention again.’

Pippin returned for the nooning with the news that Paladin planned to stay out until teatime. Each day brought the onset of the rainy season closer, and he wanted to cut as much hay as possible this day, to let it cure in the morrow’s sun and be gathered into stacks a day or two after. While the children ate, Eglantine quickly packed up a meal for her husband and sent Pip, still gnawing on a fistful of bread-and-meat, on old Whitefoot to bring the meal out to the field. She smiled to see her son riding with a consciously straight back as the fat, sway-backed, retired plough pony jogged along. ‘He’s pretending he’s head of escort, I warrant,’ she said fondly.

 ‘If it helps him develop dedication to his duty it’ll be a good thing,’ Pearl answered, and her mother smiled wryly.

 ‘O he’ll be quite dedicated, for the next few days anyhow, until he finds something else he wants to be,’ Eglantine said. ‘Come now,’ she added. ‘We’ve work to do. Let us clear away and get back at it.’

Paladin returned from the field just before teatime as was his custom. His father had never worked past teatime, giving the remainder of the day to his family, and Paladin followed suit. The family took tea by the fire this day, for the days cooled rapidly this time of year and the Sun sought her bed ever earlier as the year marched to its end.

Pervinca had stirred up currant scones under her mother’s watchful eye while her sisters did the milking and shut up the biddies and Pip slopped the pigs with the scraps from the day’s meals. Paladin praised the tender, flaky scones to the skies and his youngest daughter blushed with pleasure. The good farmer then proceeded to tell a series of stories about the Wind and the Sun and their wagers, and the effect of these on the hapless farmers below, until the Queen of the Sky came and scolded both for forgetting their duty in their pursuit of diversion.

 ‘The head of escort never forgets his duty, does he, Da?’ Pip said importantly.

 ‘That’s right, son; he swears an oath, you know, and stands by it with his very life,’ Paladin answered seriously. He frowned as Pippin sighed and looked dreamily into the fire. ‘A farmer ought never to forget his duty, either,’ he added.

Pippin looked up, intrigued. ‘What duty, Da?’ he asked.

Paladin put his pipe in his mouth and threw his arms wide. ‘The land is a gift, lad,’ he answered. ‘A gift, and we must never take it for granted. We must cherish the land and use it well, and it will yield richly in return.’

 ‘And the animals, Da?’ Pip asked slowly as he absorbed this new thought. ‘Are they a gift as well?’

Paladin tousled the curly head that leaned on his knee, looking up trustingly at him. ‘Indeed, my boy, you have the right of it,’ he said, well pleased. ‘They are given into our care, and it is our duty to do right by them.’ Pippin nodded slowly, a curious expression on his face, and Pearl wondered suddenly what he was thinking.

 ‘Even the pigs, Da?’ he said suddenly. ‘But we eat the pigs, and chickens and lambs as well. Is that doing right by them?’

 ‘To be sure,’ Paladin said stoutly. ‘They were given us as food, and we are to take the best care of them as we can while they live, and give them a swift and painless end.’

 ‘Who gave them to us as food?’ Pippin asked, but Paladin’s answer was put off by a knock at the door. It was a neighbour whose cow was in difficulty in calving, and could Paladin please come?

 ‘Would you like to help bring a new life into the world?’ Paladin asked his son, and Pippin’s eyes glowed as he assented. ‘Come then.’ Eglantine watched with pride as the two strode over the darkening fields after the neighbour, the lad trying to match his father’s long strides.

They returned some hours later, and Paladin tucked his sleepy son into bed before joining Eglantine in the kitchen for a final cup of tea before retiring. The girls had sought their beds an hour before and were already fast asleep. ‘A fine heifer calf,’ he said as he sugared his tea, sipping and sitting back with a sigh.

 ‘What was the problem?’ Eglantine asked.

 ‘Head turned back, but she came round with a little coaxing,’ Paladin said.

 ‘And was Pip good as gold? Or was he a nuisance and a bother?’ Eglantine asked.

 ‘He’s the one, stuck his arm in and got the loop round the jaw,’ Paladin boasted proudly. ‘Cow was too narrow for me to get my arm in, but he managed...’

 ‘Ah,’ Eglantine said wisely. ‘He’s not so keen on being head of the Thain’s escort anymore, I warrant.’

 ‘Nay,’ Paladin said complacently. ‘He saved a life today; brought a new life into the world that would have died without his help. A farmer’s lot looks good to him at the moment.’

Eglantine shook her head with a smile, marvelling anew at this wise hobbit she’d married. As she sipped her tea she remembered suddenly the message from the Thain. ‘What did the Thain want of you?’ she asked.

Paladin was silent, and his wife felt a stab of apprehension. ‘Did it...’ she faltered. ‘Did Ferdinand...?’

 ‘Ferdinand and his family have been brought to the Great Smials,’ Paladin said soberly. ‘He’s in dreadful pain, my love, terrible...’ He shook his head, remembering the pain of a burn on his arm once. He couldn’t imagine that pain over most of the body. Surely such pain would kill a hobbit, or drive him mad. He grieved anew for Ferdinand. They'd been cousins as close as young Merry and Pippin were in this day.

 ‘Poor Rosemary,’ Eglantine sighed. ‘To have to see such suffering...’

Paladin shook his head. ‘They won’t let her near him,’ he said. ‘He asked that she be kept away.’

 ‘And young Ferdi?’ Eglantine asked with trepidation.

Paladin sighed. ‘He’s eating,’ he said. ‘He still won’t speak, not even to Rosemary.’

Eglantine echoed her husband’s sigh. ‘They say that time heals all ills,’ she said softly. ‘Would that it were only true.’

Paladin nodded, and they sipped their tea in silence for a few moments. ‘But that was not the gist of the message,’ he said suddenly.

 ‘It wasn’t?’ Eglantine asked. ‘Then what was?’

Paladin poured himself another cup of tea and sugared it well. ‘My love,’ he said and stopped.

 ‘What is it?’ Eglantine said.

 ‘What do you think of sending one of the girls... sending Pearl... to the Great Smials?’ he said.

 ‘To be a comfort to Rosemary in this difficult time? I know she’s between Pearl and Nell in age, but she was closer to Pimpernel in temperament when her father came to train the ponies. Why not send Nell?’

 ‘Nell’s not the one asked for,’ Paladin said. He leaned forward. ‘It’s not for Rosemary’s sake,’ he added.

 ‘What then?’ Eglantine said, bewildered.

 ‘It seems that Mistress Lalia has received a good report of Pearl,’ Paladin said slowly. ‘She invites Pearl to come to the Smials, to act as her attendant for the next year or two. It would be an opportunity for Pearl to enter society, make a better marriage than she could as a farmer’s daughter.’

 ‘And what’s wrong with being a farmer’s daughter?’ Eglantine said indignantly. ‘I was a farmer’s daughter, or have you forgotten that?’

 ‘My love,’ Paladin said, taking her free hand in his, pained to have offended the one hobbit he loved above all others. ‘I don’t mean that at all! It is just that Mistress Lalia has had trouble finding a satisfactory companion. The Smials Tooks all fawn upon her and cringe; she wants someone who would be properly respectful and still unafraid to speak her mind.’

 ‘That would be our Pearl,’ Eglantine admitted. She thought it over for a few moments, then shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I do not like it.’

 ‘Why not?’ Paladin said.

 ‘Everyone knows that Lalia is desperate for her son to marry and sire an heir,’ she answered slowly. ‘It is said her eyes are cold, measuring each new female she encounters much like a farmer at the cattle market, looking for good teeth, good breeding, and wide hips the better for bearing young. No proper hobbit-lass old enough to marry of her own accord will have Ferumbras, tied to his mother’s apron as he is. An impressionable young girl, however... I wouldn’t put it past her to be scheming about such a thing.’ Her fingers tightened on her teacup. ‘It’s why I feel uneasy about Rosemary there in the Smials, without father or uncle or brother to protect her from Lalia’s designs.’

 ‘You think she’d take advantage—’ Paladin said in astonishment.

 ‘Of Rosemary, yes, or our Pearl,’ Eglantine said. ‘What did she offer?’

 ‘A purse of gold, that our daughter might have a better dowry than otherwise, that she might marry well,’ Paladin said slowly, ‘and a pearl necklace of fine workmanship, an heirloom that has long been in the hoard of the Thain.’

 ‘No skin off her teeth,’ Eglantine countered. ‘Dowry and necklace would be back within her grasp if our girl married the Thain.’

 ‘And would it be so bad, if it turned out to be something Pearl wanted?’ Paladin said.

 ‘The thought’s obscene!’ Eglantine exploded. ‘He’s three-score years her elder!’ She thought again of Ferumbras, fat, pale, sweaty, and ineffectual.

 ‘It’s all moot anyhow,’ Paladin said, stirring his tea again. ‘Lalia would never allow her son to take advantage of a girl under her protection; it wouldn’t be proper! And with Pearl acting as a companion, of the servant class in other words, there’d be no danger of her being linked to the Thain, either in gossip or in reality.’

 ‘When you put it that way,’ Eglantine said, ‘I find it hard to find fault with the matter.’ She sighed again. ‘Still,’ she added, ‘I’m reluctant to let our Pearl go.’

 ‘She’ll be gone anyhow when she marries,’ Paladin said gently. ‘That’s not so very far away. She’ll be thirty before you know it.’

 ‘I know it,’ Eglantine said, her voice soft and sad. ‘I know it indeed.’

 ‘I’m glad you are not dead-set against it,’ Paladin said. ‘I’m not sure how I could deny the direct request of the mother of the Thain.’