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Pearl of Great Price  by Lindelea


Chapter 16. Last Night

Deep in the dark of the early morning hours, the carvers worked steadily away at their task. Ferdi added segments to the worm dangling from the mother bird’s beak, then delicately added a breathing hole to the beak itself, then a line for the eyelid, a few feather strokes to the top of the head. In the flickering light of the lamps, the worm seemed to wriggle and the beaks of the babies gaped ever wider.

 ‘Nicely done, lad,’ Gundy said, stopping to put a hand on Ferdi’s shoulder. ‘If you could work on the baskets of apples, now...’ Ferdi nodded, got up and stretched, then set to bringing out the details of the wickerwork.

An hour before dawn, Gundy put down his tool and opened and closed his hands as he paced from one end of the mantel to the other, looking for flaws or omissions. ‘More veins on the leaves there,’ he muttered, pointing, and Hally jumped to obey. ‘Ferdi-lad,’ Gundy added, ‘the holes on the snow-hobbit’s button eyes. Buttons have holes, you know!’ Abashed, Ferdi nodded and quickly remedied the oversight.

Gundy stepped back once more, soon joined by Hally on one side and Ferdi on the other. The three surveyed their handiwork as the kitchen workers came out to lay the tables for early breakfast. ‘Are ye finished, then?’ a hobbit said, stopping with an armload of plates.

 ‘All but the polishing,’ Gundy answered. To Hally, he said, ‘Do we have the covers ready?’

 ‘Yes, sir,’ Hally said, digging in their supplies for the beeswax and polishing cloths.

 ‘A moment,’ the plate-bearing hobbit said. He was as good as his word, back in a little less than a moment with several other kitchen workers. ‘These are dish-washers,’ he said. ‘They’ve naught to do until breakfast starts, save eat their own breakfast, and breakfast comes every day does it not?’ Dumbfounded, the Bolgers watched as the half-dozen hobbits seized soft cloths, dug wax from the crocks and began to apply it to the carved work.

The plate-bearing hobbit said suddenly, ‘Eat! They’ve laid your places over there,’ he nodded at a table nearby where other kitchen workers were laying covered serving dishes and a cosied teapot. ‘If I’ve heard aright, you’ve not eaten since noontide yesterday, save a biscuit or two with a few mugs of tea.’

 ‘I—’ Gundy said, nonplussed.

 ‘Go!’ the plate-bearing hobbit said firmly. ‘They’ve polished enough silver in their time; they know how to rub on and buff off.’ He shifted his grip on the plates. ‘Now go!’ he repeated, ‘afore I lose my grip on this stack and we have an awful mess on our hands.’ He smiled to himself as the woodcarvers and their silent helper followed his order, then turned to dealing out his plates once more.

Such a breakfast it was! Surely even the Thain did not eat so well. There were four kinds of bread and three of sausages, eggs coddled with cheese and chopped tomato, onions stuffed and baked, butter and preserves and fruit compote, crispy potato cakes with hot applesauce, and pots of hot tea to wash it all down. The kitchen workers kept bringing food until the Bolgers had no more corners to fill and even Ferdi had eaten himself full.

Gundy settled back with a sigh. ‘That in itself was nearly worth the work of carving,’ he said to the plate-bearing hobbit, though he bore no more plates at the moment, rather another pot of tea. ‘No more, thank you,’ he added. Looking over to the great mantel, his eyes widened. The polishing hobbits had nearly finished their work and the dark wood gleamed. A crew of foresters entered the great room then, bearing an enormous log which they placed ready for the evening, atop a pile of kindling and smaller logs which would catch first and burn long enough to set the Yule log alight. The kitchen workers watched jealously, ready to ward off any scratches to the carved mantel, but all was done safely and efficiently and then canvases were laid over the masterpiece to await the unveiling at sunset.

 ‘We did it,’ Hally said softly, and Ferdi grinned at him. Grinning back, the woodcarver’s son said honestly, ‘We couldn’t have finished in time without you, Ferdi. You’re welcome in Woody End anytime you wish to come, for you’ve helped us to gain our own land.’

 ‘That’s for true,’ Gundy said, clapping Ferdi on the back. ‘Well now, lads, let us seek our beds. At sunset the Mistress will see our work and sign our land over to us, and then we may enjoy the festivities. A new year, and new promise, indeed!’

Young Ferdi looked in upon his father before retiring. Ferdinand was still asleep. ‘He spent a restless night,’ Tansy whispered, patting the teen on the arm. ‘You go take yourself off now, young Ferdi, and I’ll let you know when he wakens.’

He took himself off in search of Rosemary, but could not find her. Worried, he sought out Bittersweet. ‘Yes, Ferdi-lad, what is it?’ she asked, busy about helping with second breakfast for her charges. He pulled at her sleeve to get her full attention, and she straightened, sighing with exasperation until she saw his face. ‘What’s the matter, lad, is it your father?’

Ferdi shook his head. ‘Your sister then?’ the healer asked. He nodded vigorously. ‘What’s happened? Where is she?’ He shrugged, spreading his hands to indicate his lack.

 ‘She ought to have been up hours ago,’ Bittersweet muttered. ‘I do hope she’s not ill...’ Recalling herself, she smiled reassuringly for the teen’s sake, saying, ‘Let us check on your sister, Ferdi. I’m sure she only slept in, for the tweens will be up through the night until dawn to see the new year in, you know.’

When they reached Rosemary’s room, either she had risen early and made up her bed herself, or her bed had not been slept in. ‘Hmmm,’ Bittersweet mused aloud. ‘Perhaps she took her breakfast in the great room.’ She looked to Ferdi to see him shaking his head forcefully. The teen was on the edge of panic, she saw. ‘You ate breakfast in the great room, and she was not there?’ she asked, locking eyes with him. ‘Where else have you looked?’ If anything might goad the lad into talking, this situation ought. Encouraged, she saw him open his mouth. ‘Yes?’ she said.

No words came, only defeat in the slumping of his shoulders as Ferdi closed his mouth again.

 ‘It’s all right, lad,’ Bittersweet said gently. ‘You’ll speak when you have something to say.’

Tansy, coming off duty, happened by, stopping to say, ‘What’re you doing out of bed, young Ferdi?’

 ‘What do you mean?’ Bittersweet asked.

 ‘He’s been up all the night, helping those woodcarvers, I hear,’ Tansy said. ‘He ought to be in bed now if he hopes to stay up later to see the new year in!’

 ‘Ferdi,’ Bittersweet said firmly. ‘I’m sure Rosemary has been called to help in the kitchens; there’s much to be done for tonight’s feasting. Let me see you to your bed and then I’ll go tell her to look in on you, set your mind at ease.’

Reluctantly the teen allowed himself to be escorted to his bed and tucked up securely. He had little choice in the matter with a healer and her assistant firmly gripping each arm, steering him between them. While Bittersweet was talking cheerily and pulling the coverlet up to Ferdi’s chin, Tansy, on her way to her own bed, passed the healer’s instructions on to Viola. Soon Viola was there with a covered cup containing a sleeping draught, which she proceeded to coax into Ferdi. Bittersweet took her leave and Viola settled beside the teen to watch until he was safely asleep.

When Rosemary did turn up, mid-morning, she did not answer Bittersweet’s query as to where she’d gone, though she was obviously pained to have worried Ferdi. ‘I went for a walk,’ was all she’d say. ‘The snow is so beautiful, and peaceful somehow.’ She was pale, with dark circles under her eyes as if she had not slept, and it was plain to see she was troubled, but the healer knew when to press and when to let a matter be, at least for the nonce.

Bittersweet walked with the girl to her room, finding there another assistant, Hellebore, laying out a magnificent gown on the bed. ‘What’s this?’ the healer said.

 ‘Compliments of the Mistress,’ Hellebore replied. ‘She thought Rosie ought to have a new gown for the holiday, not have to wear the same old thing she’s been wearing for Last Night and First Day. Even the dairymaids have new dresses, you know.’

 Not the sort of gown I would choose for a girl of four-and-twenty the healer thought to herself, but seeing Rosemary’s face she said nothing. The girl’s expression was an odd mix of realisation and dread. ‘Take the dress and lay it out somewhere else so that the lass can have a nap, and then go and give the Mistress young Rosemary’s compliments and thanks for her kindness,’ Bittersweet said.

Once Hellebore and the gown were gone, Bittersweet pointed to the bed. ‘You tuck yourself up,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m going to bring you a sleeping draught, for you look as if you need one.’ The girl did not argue, and that was worrisome in itself. Rosemary had refused any and all draughts since first coming to the Great Smials, though she’d suffered from nightmares in the first weeks.

After Rosemary had taken all of the bitter brew and laid her head down, Bittersweet smoothed the coverlet over the girl and sat down on the bed beside her. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

 ‘There’s no point in talking,’ Rosemary said dispiritedly. ‘It’s all over and done already.’ Bittersweet didn’t like the sound of that, but the girl’s tone was final. Whatever the trouble was, surely it would come out sooner than later, the way the Tooks were with their Talk.

Many of the Tooks lay themselves down between noontide and teatime, especially the tweens and older teens who would be up through the coming night, but by teatime the Smials was stirring as hobbits prepared for the celebration. All preparations completed in the kitchen, the cooks and their assistants bathed and put on their finest clothes. The servants as well, whether they’d be on duty or free, bathed and dressed in their best. The Tooks, of course, were also preparing, though most of them had bathed in the morning. The bath rooms were in great demand, and baths were limited to a quarter of an hour each. Of course, that way several hobbits in turn could bathe before the water grew cool enough to replenish.

Everything in the Smials that could be polished sparkled, the floors were completely clear of dust, the spiders were all made homeless and would have to weave new homes for the new year.

Bittersweet helped Rosemary into the fine new gown that made her look much older than her four-and-twenty years, and then she dressed the girl’s hair in a high-braided crown to suit the fashionable attire. ‘You look lovely, my dear. Half the hobbits in the Smials will be vying to dance with you.’

Rosemary swallowed hard and tried to smile, but the healer could see the tears sparkling in her eyes. ‘What is it, dear?’ she asked again. ‘How can I help you?’

 ‘No one can help me,’ the girl said low, dropping her eyes. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, looking up again. ‘I’m ready,’ she said. ‘I hope I can be a credit to my father.’

 ‘He’ll be very proud to see you,’ Bittersweet said stoutly. She escorted Rosemary to Ferdinand’s room to wish him a good Last Day, but he was sober and said little. After regarding his daughter in silence, he said, ‘Be off with you! Dance, and sing, and enjoy your youth while it lasts.’

 ‘Yes, father,’ Rosemary said obediently, dutiful daughter that she was. She looked more like she was going to a burial than a ball, Bittersweet thought. Ferdi, freshly washed and dressed, appeared in the doorway, ready to escort his sister to the great room for the lighting of the Yule log.

They joined a laughing, talking stream of Tooks and Tooklanders, all moving in the same direction, emptying into a sea of hobbits in the lamp-lit great room. The Thain and Mistress waited already by the huge hearth with its concealing canvas covers, smiling and nodding greetings to all and sundry.

Pearl saw Rosemary and Ferdi enter and made her way through the crowd to them. ‘Rose! Ferdi! Come join us,’ she said warmly, giving a hand to each. The crowd good-naturedly made way for them, and soon Paladin was greeting them, Eglantine had a hug for each, and Nell, Vinca, and PIp shyly murmured their greetings, for Ferdi kept his eyes fixed firmly on his toes and was not the same laughing lad they remembered from summer days on the farm.

There was a stir in the crowd and suddenly the head of escort stood before them. ‘Compliments of the Thain, but would Miss Rosemary and Master Ferdibrand please come forward?’ Rosemary stiffened, but she forced a smile and took the proffered arm. Ferdi followed behind them, keeping his eyes down until he was greeted heartily by Gundy Bolger. ‘Ferdi! We were wondering where you were. It is only fitting for you to stand up with us, when your hands did so much to bring the work to life!’ Hally smiled shyly at Rosemary, but she looked away from him and he flushed in confusion. Perhaps she was too grand in her fancy dress for the likes of a simple woodcarver.

Now Adelard blew a horn that echoed through the room, hushing the crowd to silence. ‘Tooks and Tooklanders!’ he cried. ‘The Thain and Mistress of Tookland invite you to join in the celebration of Yule! We come together to sing out the old year and welcome the new!’ The gathered hobbits cheered lustily, but quieted when the steward raised his hands for attention.

 ‘In honour of your loyal service over the past years, the Mistress has commissioned a great work, at her own expense, a gift to the hobbits of the Great Smials and their generations to come.’ There was another cheer that quieted quickly as the Mistress sat straighter in her chair.

 ‘Gundavar Bolger,’ she said imperiously. ‘Let us judge your work. You were pledged to be finished by the lighting of the Yule log.’

 ‘Yes, Mistress,’ Gundy said respectfully.

 ‘Yesterday at this time, you looked to be quite a ways from completion,’ Lalia said severely. ‘You expressed your regrets that you feared you might not finish in time, and that we would have to burn the Yule log despite the incomplete state of the mantel.’

 ‘Yes, Mistress, I did say that,’ Gundy said. Pearl and many of the other hobbits of the Great Smials held their breath. All had watched the progress of the masterwork; all hoped that Gundy would not be turned away with nothing for his efforts. Surely the Mistress could not be so petty?

The thought crossed Paladin’s mind that Lalia would have the Tooks eating out of her hand if she offered to pay for the unfinished work. Gundavar would refuse payment, of course, out of pride, and Lalia would be let off scot-free, and have the respect of the Tooks in the bargain.

 ‘Well then,’ Lalia said at her most pompous. ‘Let us light the Yule log.’

 ‘Ferdi?’ Gundy said. Gundy, Hally, and Ferdi stepped to the hearth. Carefully so as not to mar the polished surface beneath the covering, they lifted away the canvas. Long-held breath was released in a drawn out “ooooo” of appreciation from the hobbits gathered there as the gleaming wood was revealed.

Tears stood in Mistress Lalia’s eyes as her son wheeled her forward to inspect the work close at hand. She reached out a trembling hand, stopping short of touching the squirrel with his nut. ‘Beautiful,’ she breathed. ‘I never thought...’ She was quiet for a long moment.

Turning to the woodcarvers, she said in a loud, clear voice. ‘This is a masterwork, indeed. Gundavar Bolger, you have earned land for yourself, your son, and an additional tract as well, for never have I seen such work!’

Adelard stepped forward with the proper paperwork, prepared ahead for this contingency though Lalia had never thought she’d need to sign it. With satisfaction he signed in red ink as witness of the bargain, along with other hobbits standing at the front of the crowd. With satisfaction, he tore up two other sets of paperwork, one transferring only two parcels of land to Gundy and his sons, the other drawn up in the event the carving had been unfinished, to show that Gundy agreed to finish the work even though he’d receive no compensation. Scattering the pieces over the Yule log, he shouted. ‘Let the old year burn away and a new year take its place!’

Ferumbras poured oil over the Yule log and then reached for the torch that Isumbold held ready.

Beside Rosemary, Ferdi stiffened, and when the torch touched the kindling and the oil flared into flame, bringing a cheer from the crowd, he crumpled to the ground, covering his head with his arms. ‘Ferdi!’ she cried, crouching to throw her arms around him, heedless of the beautiful gown. ‘Ferdi! Brother!’.

Isumbold was beside them in a flash. Gundy quickly rolled his copy of the contract and stuffed it into his shirt, then bent to the stricken tween. ‘Let’s get him out of here,’ he said to Hally beside him. Between them, the Bolgers, Isumbold and Baragrim lifted Ferdi and carried him from the room, Rosemary clinging to his hand.





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