Chapter 12. Fruitcake

Rosemary sat quietly by the side of her brother’s bed, watching him sleep. She’d wakened early, refreshed, somehow relieved of the heavy weight she’d staggered under since the day of the fire.

She had been brave and strong—o! so strong; the Bolgers and Tooks had been effusive in their praise, though oddly enough she remembered very little of the fire and its aftermath. Her first clear memory was of sitting by Ferdi’s side, holding her brother’s hand, while Thain Ferumbras gently explained why it would be better if she did not see her father at this time. She remembered scraps of discussion between Uncle Odovacar, Paladin and the Thain, and then somehow she’d found herself here at the Smials, in the infirmary with Ferdi, with no recollection of how they’d come from home to here.

Ferdi stirred and Rosemary stiffened. Heretofore he’d opened his eyes from sleep and stared blankly before him, unresponsive to anything she or anyone else said. After last night she didn’t know what to hope for...

 ‘Ferdi?’ she said gently. Her brother’s eyes opened, but instead of the vacant stare of days past he sought her face. ‘Ferdi!’ she sobbed, and her tears spilled over, tears of relief.

Her brother sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and he lifted a hand to her face, gently wiping the tears away, before reaching to take her in an embrace. The two clung to each other as Rosemary wept, until she pushed herself away to look into his face. ‘Ferdi, it is so good to see you,’ she said.

He smiled faintly but did not answer.

 ‘Well now,’ Bittersweet said cheerily from the door. ‘I thought you’d be wakening about now, young Ferdi. I brought you and your sister a bite of breakfast.’ The healer bustled in, setting down the tray she bore, dealing out plates and cutlery on the little table and lifting lids from the serving platters to reveal a steaming breakfast of fluffy eggs with bacon, potatoes, cheese and onion stirred in, warm fruit compote topped with soured cream, and generously buttered toast. ‘There,’ she said in satisfaction. ‘Looks good enough to eat.’

The healer turned from the table to the bed. ‘Come young Ferdi, let’s get you up before your breakfast turns cold.’ He shook off her hand and tried to rise, seeming surprised when his legs buckled under him. ‘Steady, lad,’ Bittersweet said, taking his arm once more. ‘You’ve been ill.’ She nodded to Rosemary, who took her brother’s other arm, and they walked him to the little table.

Bittersweet sat down with the young Tooks, digging into a plate of her own, conversing with Rosemary while covertly observing Ferdibrand. She was glad to see him plying his own fork, eating several helpings of the good, strengthening food, washing it down with cups of tea. When he pushed himself back, he’d not quite eaten as much as a teen ought, but it was a far cry from placing food in his mouth and waiting to see if he’d swallow.

 ‘Well now,’ Bittersweet said pleasantly, clearing her own plate. ‘That was what I call a breakfast!’ She eyed the youth, who’d listened quietly to the conversation but had not contributed a word of his own. ‘Would ye like any more, young Ferdi?’ He smiled and shook his head.

 ‘I suppose that’ll hold you until second breakfast,’ the healer said, looking up to see two of her assistants hovering in the doorway. ‘Now how about a nice warm bath? I do believe there’s one with your name on it just been poured out.’

One he was bathed and freshly dressed, Ferdi looked much as he had, Rosemary thought, save he was thinner than a teen ought to be, and he had not spoken a word since awakening. Bittersweet returned from an errand, saying, ‘There’s much too much to be done around here to allow idle hands. Come with me, the two of you. There’s work waiting.’ She took Ferdi’s arm as if he were escorting her instead of the other way around and walked him out of the little room. Rosemary hurried to take her brother’s other arm.

 ‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

 ‘To the great room,’ Bittersweet answered. ‘The cooks have put all hands to work, for it’s time to make the fruitcakes for Yule if they’re to age properly steeped in Brandy Hall’s finest.’

The great room was chilly, for no fire was lit on the enormous hearth where the woodcarvers worked. Small covered braziers were scattered through the room, giving off heat, and kitchen workers periodically renewed the coals within, but Rosemary was glad for her shawl and glad, too, for the jumper that Ferdi wore.

Ferdi was put to work at a table full of teens and tweens, cracking nuts and picking the meats from the shells. Bittersweet settled Rosemary next to her brother with a pat on the arm. ‘I’ll be in and out,’ she said softly. ‘But don’t hesitate to send for me if you should need me.’ Rosemary nodded and smiled gratefully. There was much good-natured banter around the table. The mounds of nutmeats grew slowly despite the depredations of the nut-cracking youth, who could not resist popping an occasional treat into the mouth. Older tweens like Reginard, son of the steward, made sure that more nuts went into the bowls than into the mouths.

The cooks provided their helpers a heartier-than-usual second breakfast, followed by elevenses of freshly-baked sausage rolls and thick, creamy potato soup, which helped ensure that some nuts would survive to be baked into fruitcakes.

Pearl joined Rosemary at the noontide meal. ‘Mistress Lalia released me early this day,’ she said gaily. ‘She said the cooks needed every hand at cracking and chopping if the cakes were to be ready in good time.’ She smiled at Ferdibrand. ‘Hullo, Ferdi,’ she said. She had seen his outburst the previous night and grieved for Rosemary, only to be overjoyed by the news of Ferdi’s recovery. Evidently the shock had released him from thrall. He smiled and nodded but did not reply. Pearl didn’t miss Rosemary’s slight frown. Ferdi had yet to speak a word.

After they’d finished eating the juicy roast, fluffy potatoes, green beans in a sauce of bacon fat, sugar and vinegar, wholemeal and light bread, butter and jam and a host of accompaniments, Pearl was hailed by those tweens chopping dried fruit into tiny pieces. ‘Come, Pearl!’ Daisy shouted, while Prim waved a fig in the air.

 ‘Will you join us?’ Pearl asked Rosemary.

 ‘I’d love to,’ Rosemary said, but as she rose a panic-stricken Ferdi grabbed at her hand.

Seeing the look, Reginard put his hand on Ferdi’s arm, saying cheerily, ‘Would you like to cut up fruits for a change, cousin? Come, I’ll join you.’ He unobtrusively settled Ferdi next to Rosemary, procured a knife for each of them, and began chopping and talking away about Yuletide treats.

Just before teatime ended, Pearl rose to take her leave and the teens and tweens sang her away to her unenviable duties. Shortly thereafter Bittersweet’s helper Viola appeared at Ferdi’s elbow. ‘Come, lad,’ she said cheerily. ‘You’re just a day out of the sickbed, and healer’s orders say you’ve done enough for one day. Bittersweet has decreed a nice nap after tea, and then supper and bed.’

Ferdi resisted her tug until Rosemary arose, taking his hand and saying reassuringly, ‘I could use a bit of a nap myself, brother.’ He nodded and allowed them to escort him out of the great room.

Reginard looked after them with a sigh and shake of his head. ‘What is it, brother?’ Everard said curiously.

 ‘He was such a bright lad,’ Reginard said. ‘Father sent me to Paladin’s farm with a message when Ferdinand was there training ponies. Ferdi was with him, following his father everywhere, chattering away, and fearless! He’d walk right up to a pony that was rearing and plunging and hold out his hand and talk until it quieted and began to listen to him. A gift, he had, like his father, and now...’

 ‘Now he’s a half-wit,’ Aldebrand put in, ‘or worse.’ He’d been given a holiday from apprenticing with the engineers to help alleviate the crisis in the kitchens, and while digging tunnels was fascinating work, he’d not found it arduous to eat hearty meals and crack nuts instead of cracking rocks.

 ‘Did you hear what he said last night?’ another young Took put in. ‘He’s not just lost his wits, he’s mad as...’ He couldn't think of a proper comparison that was awful enough to finish the thought

 ‘You’d be as daft as he is, had you seen what he’d seen,’ Reginard retorted. ‘And now what has he got? His mother and uncle dead, his father dying by inches, his family’s fortune gone and the farm sold...’

 ‘He’s got a right pretty sister,’ Aldebrand said.

 ‘With no dowry, and a half-wit brother hanging on her apron strings,’ Everard said sourly. ‘She’s an old maid in the making, I’ll wager.’

 ‘She might’ve been better off had he drowned,’ someone said softly, and Reginard spun round, trying to pinpoint the speaker.

 ‘You hold your tongue,’ he said furiously. ‘Don’t let me ever hear such a sentiment again, or I’ll—’

The young Tooks busied themselves with cracking nuts and chopping fruits. They didn’t know what Regi would do, but his father was steward and Regi was not one to make idle threats. He could see to it that one was assigned to stable sweeping or worse, if he thought an “attitude adjustment” were necessary. As he was taking Ferdi’s part, the tweens and teens of the Great Smials would have to be polite, at the least, to the poor benighted lad and his pretty but luckless sister.