Chapter 18. A Switch

Hally Woodcarver thought that this might be how a sizzling roast must feel, could it feel anything at all, that is. Nevertheless, he hitched himself yet closer to the blazing hearth. He thought he might possibly melt, yet doggedly he stayed in the place he’d chosen.

 ‘What are you about, Hally?’ Reginard said close behind him. ‘If you get any closer to the Yule log we’ll be roasting you instead of mushrooms.’

 ‘C-c-c-c-cold,’ Hally chattered, even as he managed a realistic shudder.

 ‘Cold!’ Regi said sharply. ‘You’ve a face as red as...’ Though Hally tried to fend off the seeking hand, Regi was able to touch his cheek, then his forehead with the back of his hand. ‘You’re burning hot, Hally!’

Hally didn’t doubt it. Bravely, he shivered and said faintly, ‘C-c-can’t seem to g-get warm.’

 ‘Let’s get you to Healer Bittersweet,’ Regi said with a frown of concern. He was gone only a moment or two, coming back with Isumbold.

 ‘Come, lad,’ the head of escort said.

 ‘Can’t get warm,’ Hally said again, slumping into their urgent grip, his head swimming. Regi and Isum lifted him between them, walking him away from the hearth. He did not have to feign the weakness of his legs; it felt as if his bones had melted within him.

 ‘Hally?’ he heard his father’s anxious voice.

 ‘Go on back to the Mistress and the Thain,’ Isumbold said. ‘We’ll take the lad to the infirmary and you can check on him when the Mistress releases you. I’m sure it’s naught but a chill—you’ve worked long hours these past days, haven’t slept or eaten properly.’ He eyed the woodcarver. ‘You’re not feeling poorly, are you?’

 ‘I’m well,’ Gundy said. He put a hand on Hally’s arm. ‘Lad?’

 ‘I’m well,’ Hally echoed unconvincingly.

 ‘Come, we’ll get you tucked up warm with hot bricks and Bittersweet will have a warming draught for you, I’m sure,’ Isumbold said.

The cooler air of the corridor was a blessed relief. Hally sighed, then managed another shiver. ‘Here,’ Isum said, taking his own cloak from his arm and putting it about the tween’s shoulders. ‘This ought to help.’

They half walked, half dragged him to the infirmary, meeting Hellebore at the door to the sitting-room. She gaped in alarm at the staggering tween, whose face had lost all colour in the walk from the great room, but quickly schooled her expression, showed them to an empty room and hurried off to fetch Bittersweet.

 ‘Well, well, what have we here?’ Bittersweet said briskly. She asked Hally a series of questions—he’d been given the answers beforehand and knew exactly what to say—looked at his throat, counted his heartbeats, listened to his breathing, and gave the hovering Hellebore instructions to heat bricks to tuck into the bed and bring extra coverings. Finally, she efficiently stripped Hally of his clothes, wrapped him in several blankets and laid him down on the bed. ‘Chills and fever,’ she said. ‘We’ve had several cases in the past week.’

 ‘Is it serious?’ Isumbold asked.

 ‘It can be,’ Bittersweet said, picking up Hally’s clothes, rolled into a neat bundle, and her sewing basket which she’d been carrying when called to attend Hally. ‘He was fine an hour or two ago, so we’ve caught it early, I think.’ She shooed Isum and Regi out of the room, saying, ‘Enjoy the celebration! He’ll be fine, I’m sure, and you can tell his father not to worry, especially since he must dance attendance on Mistress Lalia until she releases him.’

 ‘I’ll check on Hally later,’ Regi said.

 ‘You do that,’ Bittersweet agreed, nodding vigorously.

 ‘Is Miss Rosemary ready to return to the celebration?’ Isumbold asked, picking up his cloak. ‘I’d be happy to escort her.’

 ‘No, she’s sitting with her brother at the moment. I’ve half a mind to pop her into bed herself; no need for her to be up all night with the strain she’s been under.’

 ‘The Mistress expects her to be in attendance at breakfast as always,’ Isumbold warned. ‘ “Properly clad”, was the message I was to convey.’ A pained look crossed his face before he wiped all expression away; it seemed he had not approved of the fancy gown, either. ‘Of course, she does not mean breakfast in the Thain’s quarters, but the festive breakfast in the great room.’

 ‘Of course,’ Bittersweet said smoothly. ‘Why don’t you come and fetch her about an hour before dawn?’

 ‘Very well,’ Isum said gravely. ‘Glad Yule,’ he said in parting.

 ‘A very glad Yule,’ Bittersweet said, ‘and a new year, full of promise.’

Hally had thrown off the blankets when Hellebore returned with the hot bricks. ‘No,’ he moaned deliriously. ‘Hot... too hot!’

 ‘That’s the way it is with chills and fever,’ the healer’s assistant said cheerily. ‘Come let’s get you tucked up again.’ Hally suffered himself to be wrapped in blankets with hot bricks tucked around him. It was all for a good cause.

Bittersweet led Isum and Regi past Ferdi’s room. The teen was tucked in his bed, apparently asleep, while Rosmary, still in the opulent gown, held his hand and sang softly.

 ‘How is he?’ Reginard asked.

 ‘Sleeping peacefully,’ Rosemary said.

 ‘Which is what you ought to be doing, my girl,’ Bittersweet said briskly. ‘Give your brother a hug and seek your own room; I’ll help you undo your dress so that you can sleep, and one of us will help you into it again in the morning.’

 ‘Thank you, that’s very kind,’ Rosemary murmured, her eyes cast down. Isum clenched his jaw but had no comfort to offer the girl. He had a very good idea of what was to happen on the morrow. There had been rumour of an engagement to be announced, and putting that together with Mistress Lalia’s excellent humour of late...

 ‘I’ll be by an hour before dawn to fetch you, miss,’ he said without expression, and she nodded without answering, hugged Ferdi, and rose wearily from the bed.

Bittersweet took Rosemary’s arm, saying goodnight to Regi and Isum. They took the hint and took their leave politely. As they were leaving, Bittersweet said, ‘Would you like to look in on your father before you retire?’

 ‘Yes, please,’ Rosemary whispered.

They found Ferdinand asleep. The fire-ravaged side of his face was turned to the pillow, the unmarked cheek was facing up, and in his sleep he smiled.

She kissed him softly on the cheek. ‘I love you, Father,’ she whispered. She looked down at him for a moment more, laid a folded piece of paper on the pillow, and turned from the bed. ‘I’m ready,’ she said.

 ‘Courage,’ Bittersweet murmured, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. ‘Let us get you out of that ridiculous dress.’ She led Rosemary back to her room, undid the intricate fastenings of the gown, helped the girl step out of it and carefully laid out the gown over a chair, ready for the morning. Tucking the girl securely into the bed, she kissed Rosemary’s cheek. ‘Grace go with you,’ she said quietly. She lit the watchlamp and left the room.

Rosemary waited a few moments and then slipped from the bed. She opened the sewing basket that Bittersweet had absently laid down upon the dressing table along with the roll of Hally’s clothes, to find the shears as expected. Unbraiding her hair took time, but finally she had it undone and hanging loose. She looked into the mirror above the dressing table, lifted her hair in one hand and the shears in the other, and hesitated. From this point there was no going back. Setting her jaw, she made the first cut.

When her curls had been shorn to resemble Hally’s as closely as possible, she unrolled the woodcarver’s clothes and put them on. She was a little shorter than Hally, but not enough that it mattered.

Last, she took two bolsters from the corner cupboard and arranged them artfully on the bed. Pulling the covers over, she stepped back to eye the result. Yes, it looked as if there were a sleeper in the bed. She shoved the shorn hair under the mattress where it would stay hid until the bed linens were changed.

Creeping to the door, she stood and listened until she heard Bittersweet say, ‘Now, dearie, a cup of tea would not go amiss, do you think?’ That was the agreed-upon signal. Rosemary waited a minute more, to give Bittersweet and Hellebore time to reach the little kitchen, then slipped into the silent, darkened corridor to Hally’s room.

The woodcarver was waiting for her, dressed in his second-best clothing which he’d brought to the infirmary earlier, before going to the great room to set all in motion with his chills and fever. Though he’d felt weak from overheating, Bittersweet had brought him a restorative cold drink and he was nearly back to himself.

 ‘Here you are,’ he said with a bow, pulling back the coverlet. ‘A very comfortable bed, let me assure you.’

 ‘My thanks,’ Rosemary said, suppressing a nervous giggle. She slipped beneath the covers and turned her face to the wall.

’Very lifelike,’ Hally said. ‘You could be my twin.’ He patted her shoulder and in the next moment was gone.

It was the middle night, and any hobbits who were about would be in the great room or gathered with other celebrants in the public holes. He met no one in the deserted corridors, nor the courtyard when he left the Great Smials, nor in the streets of Tuckborough, though he heard snatches of song and merriment as he passed the Spotted Duck on the outskirts of town.

Snow was falling thickly, muffling his footsteps, and he thought with satisfaction that he would leave no sign of his passing. He kept walking, all the way through Tuckborough and into the night, passing several farmhouses before encountering the huge haystacks that he and his father had remarked upon their arrival back in mid-October.

Burrowing into one of these, he curled up in his cloak and munched the bread-and-cheese that Bittersweet had left in his room. Warm, drowsy, and full, he fell asleep.