Chapter 36. Aftermath

Pearl wakened slowly but the nightmare continued. Feeble moans sounded nearby, overlaid by healers’ croons and punctuated by pain-filled outcries from other hobbits. Bittersweet was snapping orders and someone was sobbing softly. Pearl squeezed her eyes more tightly shut, willing herself to waken, but the hard surface under her did not turn into the softness of her mattress, nor did the distressing sounds cease.

 ‘We carried him back as gentle as we could,’ Baragrim was saying brokenly. ‘He said not to lift him—he said to let him lie—how could we? How could we leave him to lie?’

 ‘Of course you couldn’t,’ Viola said soothingly, then raised her voice, ‘Hot tea, plenty of honey! Help him drink it if he cannot seem to manage.’

‘Isumbold...’  Baragrim half-sobbed. ‘Palabard...’

 ‘I’m sorry, Barry, there’s naught to be done for him,’ Viola said. ‘Now you drink this; it’ll do you good.’

 ‘Isum’s still among the living,’ Bittersweet said, ‘and I mean to keep him here if at all possible. Tansy! Send word to Coriander, we could use the seamstresses here. They can sew up slashes just as well as frocks if need be... Where do you think you are going, Sir?’

Ferumbras said, ‘You’ve stitched me together nicely, Bittersweet, you’ve poured strong spirits over all to keep away the red swelling, you’ve forced honeyed tea down me until I’m ready to float away. I think I’m done nicely to a turn and if you leave me on this table any longer they’ll start to stick forks into me.’ Though the words were light, his tone was heavy with grief.

 ‘You’re not going back to the hunt,’ Bittersweet warned.

 ‘I left hobbits out there,’ Ferumbras said. ‘If one singular could do so much damage, what will a whole sounder do?’

 ‘Verilard is a competent hunter,’ Bittersweet countered. ‘He’ll bring the rest back as safe as may be, and you know he won’t rest until they have the last squeaker.’

 ‘Besides, they’re hunting from pony-back now, and that’s always safer,’ Viola put in.

 ‘I’ve arrangements to make,’ Ferumbras said heavily. ‘Messengers to send out, a burial to...’ His voice broke and he could say no more.

 ‘Adelard, you know what to do,’ Viola said briskly. ‘Send messengers to all the corners of Tookland and the heads of the great families. The burial will be at dawn, the day after tomorrow.’

 ‘The Brandybucks as well?’ Steward Adelard said.

Pearl heard no answer, but Viola said gently, ‘There-there, Sir, lie yourself back down. We’ll have hobbits to carry you to your bed soon.’

Pearl stirred and heard Daisy say, ‘I think she’s coming round. Pearl? Pearl? Are you with us?’

 ‘What?’ Pearl said, lifting a hand that felt like lead to her aching head.

 ‘You fainted and hit your head,’ Daisy said. ‘All the healers are a bit occupied at present so they brought you in here with the rest.’ She helped Pearl sit up. She was lying on one of the tables in the great room. Other tables were occupied by half-a-dozen hobbits in various states of distress as healers or healers’ assistants tended them, while others sat on the benches, stoically being stitched or having lighter injuries washed and dressed.

Pearl blinked away bewilderment as the Thain was helped down from his tabletop, eased onto a litter though he protested he could walk, and carried away. Bittersweet and two others were working furiously over the limp figure lying upon the butter-yellow cloak while the head healer continued to give orders to the hobbits around her. Baragrim sat as near to the head of escort as he could while his own slashes were tended. Violet stood by holding a steaming cup, trying to get him to drink.

 ‘What happened?’ Pearl asked.

 ‘One boar decided to cut a piece of hunter pie,’ Daisy said. She added under her breath, ‘He went for the Thain, and you can imagine what happened next.’

Memory came flooding back, and Pearl gasped, ‘The Mistress!’

 ‘Steady, Pearl,’ Daisy soothed, but Pearl was near hysterics.

 ‘It’s all my fault!’ she cried wildly. ‘I should have kept hold of the chair! I should have...’

 ‘Hush now,’ Viola said intensely, coming to her side. ‘Here, drink this!’ She picked up a half-filled cup from a tray and thrust it against Pearl’s lips, effectively silencing her. Pearl sipped automatically; it was brandy with a bitter aftertaste. Even lower, the healer added, ‘Daisy, take her to her own bed and don’t let her talk to anyone.’

 ‘Come now, Pearl,’ Daisy coaxed. Viola took her other arm, overriding her protests, and helped Daisy half-carry her from the great room.

At the doorway Viola released Pearl’s arm. ‘Can you take her from here?’ she asked.

 ‘We’ll manage,’ Daisy said.

 ‘Sit with her until I send another watcher.’ Viola reminded. ‘Not a word, mind!’

 ‘That’s right,’ Daisy replied firmly, and began an unending string of talk and encouragement as she walked Pearl down the corridor, so that Pearl could not get a word in edgewise even had she not had to concentrate on walking.

Mrs Sandytoes was not in their quarters, and Daisy quickly undressed Pearl, whose fingers did not seem to be working quite right, but were stiff and clumsy. She pulled Pearl’s nightdress over her head and tucked her into bed. ‘I’ll be right back with some warmers,’ she said, and true to her word, returned soon with flannel-wrapped hot bricks which she tucked all around Pearl before heaping the covers high.

Sitting down next to the bed, Daisy said, ‘There, all cosy.’

Pearl said fuzzily, ‘I...’

 ‘No talking now, healer’s orders,’ Daisy broke in firmly, and to preclude further effort on Pearl’s part, she softly began to sing.

***

Fast riders, pushing their ponies hard, passed Saradoc on the Road but did not pause to answer his hails. He decided not to stop over as planned but to proceed directly to Bywater; perhaps the hobbits there had news of some sort.

Reaching Bywater long after the Sun sought her bed, he was astonished to see that many of the holes were lit up and the Green Dragon Inn was doing a bustling business in the common room. Hobbits crowded the tables, talking in low voices.

Saradoc gave his ponies to the ostler and entered the inn. ‘I’d like a room for the night, and to send a message up the Hill at Hobbiton to Mr Baggins,’ he said.

 ‘I’m sorry,’ the innkeeper said, ‘Your message won’t find him at home.’

  ‘It won’t?’ Saradoc said, wondering that the innkeeper knew where Frodo might be at present, unless... ‘Is he here?’ he asked hopefully, his eyes eagerly scanning the crowded room. If Frodo had come to the Green Dragon to hoist a pint, Saradoc’s task would be quickly accomplished.

 ‘He’s gone down to the Great Smials,’ the innkeeper said. He lowered his voice. ‘Haven’t you heard the news?’

***

Pearl awakened groggily, hearing voices in her room. Mrs Sandytoes was saying in outrage, ‘Sir, you cannot come in here! It isn't…’

She was interrupted by Frodo Baggin’s firm tones. ‘It’s all right, I’m family. I practically changed her nappies, you know.’

 ‘But...’ Mrs Sandytoes squawked like a ruffled hen.

Pearl felt herself lifted into a sitting position and she opened her eyes to see Frodo holding her. ‘Come cousin,’ he said. ‘I’m taking you home.’