Chapter 25. Resting Comfortably

There was not much for Pearl to do these days. Lalia did not even pretend interest in the business of Tookland but sat staring silently into the fire, clasping and unclasping her hands in her shawl. The Mistress spent every waking moment in the Thain's study, waiting, worrying, for the most part ignoring those around her.

Each hour on the hour she sent Pearl down the short corridor to Ferumbras’ apartment, where one of the escort stood outside the door at all times, turning away visitors and well-wishers. Each time Pearl was sent back to the Mistress with the words, ‘Resting comfortably.’ She wondered what that meant.

Pearl’s greatest task involved making sure Mistress Lalia ate something at each meal, talking and coaxing until the old hobbit had taken several bites at least. ‘We cannot have you falling ill, Mistress,’ was a constant refrain, both from the healers when Lalia demanded to see her son, and from Pearl and Adelard.

The steward accomplished as much as he could during the morning hours, for he relieved Pearl promptly at noon, keeping watch over Lalia from noontide until after teatime. He tried to discuss the business of the land during these visits, but it was heavy going, for Lalia hardly listened. Her worry for her son was palpable.

Pearl was glad to escape the close atmosphere for these few hours. She took herself off on long walks, revelling in the green revealed by the melting snow, breathing the fresh, cold air, swinging her arms and lifting her head to the sky. Sometimes Isumbold would accompany her. He often had news of Ferdibrand, who’d been taken under the wing of Adelard’s younger brother, a hunter. Ferdi was doing well, it seemed. Though he seldom looked any hobbit in the eye, he was a keen observer of nature, showing great promise in tracking and shooting.

Several times over the next fortnight Pearl took late supper in the infirmary with Ferdi and his father. Ferdinand was taciturn, so unlike the laughing hobbit she remembered, and young Ferdi almost never spoke. Pearl and Tansy carried the burden of conversation on these occasions. It was better than taking late supper in the great room, rife with talk and speculation. How ill was the Thain? Was he going to die? Who’d be Thain after him, if he did?

***

 ‘Resting comfortably, I hear,’ Pearl said at early breakfast with the dairymaids, in answer to Prim’s query.

 ‘That’s what you said yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that,’ Violet said.

 ‘And last week, and the week before,’ Pansy put in.

 ‘He’s been ill a fortnight, and no one’s seen him but the healers and the escort,’ Daisy said. ‘Why won’t you tell us more?’

 ‘I cannot,’ Pearl said helplessly. ‘I haven’t seen him either! The escort standing in the hallway gives me the message to take back to the Mistress. I’ve never even seen inside his apartment!’

 ‘I hear it’s as plain as the Mistress’s quarters are fancy,’ Prim said, dropping her voice, but too late. Mrs Sandytoes came from setting out fresh water for washing to scold them for gossiping, and to hurry them with their breakfast.

Midmorning that day Pearl arrived at the Thain’s apartment to find the escort not at his post and the door ajar. She peeked in, seeing servants emptying buckets of water into a tub that had been placed before the sitting-room fire. Prim was right; the apartment was so plainly furnished as to earn the appellation “austere”.

 ‘Cold water,’ one was muttering. ‘What are they looking to do, freeze the hobbit to death?’

 ‘He’s afire with fever,’ another said. ‘Haven’t you heard? The healer’s afraid his brains are roasting, he’s that hot.’

A third put in, ‘Did you see him twitching and jerking? I thought he’d die then and there...’ Looking up, he saw Pearl. ‘Here now, miss!’ he said sharply. ‘You hadn’t ought to be looking in here!’

 ‘Are you nearly ready?’ Bittersweet’s voice came from the bedroom. ‘Come, help us lift him.’

 ‘There’s a girl here,’ the second servant called in warning.

Bittersweet came from the bedroom, wiping her hands on a cloth. ‘O Pearl,’ she said. ‘That’s right, it’s about time for one of your visits. You go on back to the Mistress and tell her that her son is resting comfortably.’

 ‘Yes’m,’ Pearl said, pulling back from the door and closing it firmly.

***

After another week, Bittersweet herself appeared in the Thain’s study just after teatime. The head healer was thinner, there were circles under her eyes and her hair was in need of washing, but she smiled reassuringly at Pearl as she made her courtesy before the Mistress.

 ‘Don’t tell me,’ Lalia said dispiritedly. ‘Resting comfortably.’

 ‘How about “out of danger”?’ Bittersweet said with a broad smile.

Lalia picked up her head. ‘Out of danger?’ she said softly. ‘Is it true? It’s not that he’s dying, and you’re afraid to tell me.’

 ‘Not at all,’ Bittersweet said. ‘He’s very weak, but his fever broke this morning. You may see him, Mistress.’

 ‘I may see him,’ Lalia said. ‘And not to take my leave of him.’

 ‘He is not dying,’ Bittersweet said firmly. ‘We just need to build him up again, feed him up, and he’ll be his old self.’

Lalia sighed and a tear trickled down her wrinkled cheek. Pearl hastily proffered a pocket-handkerchief, which the old hobbit took gratefully, with a murmured, ‘Bless you, child.’

When she’d wiped her eyes, she looked up at the healer again. ‘When may I see him?’ she said, a little of the old officiousness creeping back into her tone.

 ‘Now, of course,’ Bittersweet said matter-of-factly. ‘That’s why I’m here!’

 ‘What are we waiting for?’ Lalia said. ‘Come now, Pearl, look lively!’

Pearl jumped up to take the handles of the rolling chair. As they proceeded the short distance from Lalia’s quarters to Ferumbras’ door, Bittersweet warned, ‘He’ll be very weak and pale, thinner than he was, and probably quite sleepy in the bargain. You don’t want to tire him...’

 ‘You think I don’t know what’s best for my son?’ Lalia demanded.

 ‘I’m only letting you know what to expect,’ Bittersweet said calmly. ‘I’m going to allow you to see him briefly, but only briefly, and then you’re going to go back to your quarters for a good nap. I do believe your son will be taking a nap of his own.’

 ‘Very well,’ Lalia said regally.

Baragrim met them at the door to the Thain’s apartment and swung it wide for Pearl to wheel the Mistress into the sitting room. Lalia was anxious, Pearl thought, seeing her breath come fast and sharp, but her voice was calm and soothing as they entered the darkened bedroom.

 ‘My boy,’ she said. ‘My beloved child.’

 ‘Mother,’ came a whisper from the bed. Pearl wheeled Lalia forward until the Mistress could seize one of the hands lying limp on the coverlet. At this distance, Pearl could see the sunken eyes struggling to stay open in a face wan and wasted, and she was shocked. The Thain looked as if he were on his deathbed.

 ‘My sweet boy,’ Lalia said, raising the hand to her lips. She was weeping again.

 ‘Don’t worry, Mother,’ Ferumbras whispered. ‘I am well.’

 ‘That’s enough now,’ Bittersweet said quietly. ‘Time for you to rest, Sir.’

 ‘Yes,’ Ferumbras murmured. ‘Tired.’

Lalia took one hand from her son’s to stroke his forehead with a gentle hand. ‘Of course you are, son,’ she said. ‘Sleep well, love. Rest and grow strong.’

 ‘Yes,’ Ferumbras said again, his voice trailing off. ‘Yes.’

 ‘Come now,’ Bittersweet whispered, and Lalia laid the hand down upon the coverlet again, giving it a last caress. Pearl wheeled her out of the bedroom.

 ‘He will be well?’ Lalia whispered.

Bittersweet smiled reassuringly, placing a hand on the old hobbit’s shoulder. ‘He will be, Mistress. He’s fought hard, and used up a lot of himself to win this battle, but he will be well,’ she said.

 ‘Good,’ Lalia said softly. ‘I do not know what I’d do were I to lose him.’

Bittersweet nodded to Pearl, and the girl wheeled Lalia out, not back to the Thain’s study, but to Lalia’s quarters, where her personal servants were waiting per the healer’s orders to put the Mistress to bed.

That evening Pearl faced the usual inquisition when she returned to her quarters. This time Mrs Sandytoes herself asked the first question.

 ‘Word is that the Thain’s fever broke today, that he’s on the mend,’ the holekeeper said, after sitting Pearl down at the table and pouring her a cup of tea. ‘How is he, really?’

 ‘Resting comfortably,’ Pearl said, sipping at her tea, ‘and that’s all I can tell you.’