19. Aftermath

“I was right not to trust outside my own, this proves it!  Men’s evil is loose among us and thriving under our very noses!” Paladin announced without preamble as he entered the feast hall, where he’d come to judge the case against his nephew’s attackers.

“One rotten apple doesn’t spoil the whole bushel, Paladin, and one ill-intentioned hobbit is not necessarily a sign of more to come,” the Master of Buckland replied tiredly, rising to greet his brother in law.

“Ill-intentioned?  Your son lies half dead and still you deny the need for action,” the Thain sneered.

“I deny nothing save the need for paranoid excess.  And you have some blame to bear for this snake in the grass lying at my doorstep.”

“What?!!”

“If we had heard of the events in Tuckborough two years ago, as should have been, we’d have caught and cast out the traitors, likely Tengo Goodbody among them!  None of us knew some hobbits had fallen past a grim acceptance of the ruffian’s ways.”

“Oh, please, how naïve can you be?  With shirriffs at the North Gate and manning the ferry within sight of your home instead of your own people?  How could you not suspect some would turn?”

“There’s not a hobbit in Buckland, from farmer’s wife to farrier’s lad, that didn’t trip, trick or steal to hinder our foe, and more than one felt the lash in consequence.  How many Tooks went to the Lockholes for defending their neighbors?”

“What are you trying to imply, you arrogant…!”

“Arrogant?  Why you, stiff-necked, hidebound…!”

“Enough!” Esmeralda’s thunderous shout pierced the air half an instant before she grabbed hold of an ear in each hand.  Hard fingers pinched the sensitive flesh and the Thain of the Shire and the Master of Buckland found themselves half kneeling before her like a pair of errant lads.

“It is a sad day when sons are wiser than their fathers and wives must call their mates to task.  Now, be civil and attend to your duties this day, and you can roll in the mud behind the barn on your own time!”

She released them and turned away to rearrange the tea tray she’d been bringing in as they got back to their feet, muttering quietly and rubbing at ears reddened by more than her rough handling.  Pippin, leaning his long frame against the doorjamb, repressed the laughter that tickled at his throat, knowing that his father would stand for no disrespect from him today, though his aunt obviously recognized no such boundary.  His mother, sitting unassumingly by the cold fireplace, looked both pleased and scandalized by Esmeralda’s breach of etiquette.

“Father.  Uncle.” Pippin began, with a courteous nod to each.  “Do you wish to proceed today or after a night’s rest?”

They both turned to answer the question and glared at each other.  The Master bowed to the Thain, who after all was to preside over the hearing, and Paladin acknowledged his courtesy with a stiff nod.

“Let’s get this over with,” he growled, and he stamped to the head table.

A confused passel of rumors had reached Tuckburough a week before, hard on the heels of Pippin’s brief report and the Master of Buckland’s appeal for adjudication.  There was no way Saradoc could be expected to rule fairly on the fate of his son’s attackers, though by virtue of his position, he had every right to do so.  As preparations were being made to ride to Brandy Hall, a letter had arrived from Cora Goodbody contesting the accusations made against her brother and his associates and demanding compensation for his death.  It was, of course, just this kind of tangled puzzle that had in the past caused Paladin to seek his brother-in-law’s advice.  There were few as adept at parsing truth from lie, and none he trusted more, save in this impossible case.

Watching the room slowly fill with the curious and the concerned, he wondered how impartial his own judgment could be in the light of recent events.  Though he had yet to find the right words to renew their old ties, his heart had turned in full to his sister’s family and he had hoped for some grand gesture, some inspired act or word to show it at the coming wedding celebration.  That his old fears had risen like evil ghosts in a bad tale to snatch at his kin once more had shaken him to his core.  Hobbits laying hands on other hobbits this way, it was without precedent, save one.  Some rumors spoke of darker things than kidnap though, of torture, rape and worse, and at the hands of the five hobbits that entered to stand before him.  None of them looked any different from those he saw every day at Great Smials, save that they stood here, bound and blank-eyed, under guard today.

Cora Goodbody settled herself upon a chair at the front beside them, her round face pinched into a disapproving frown as she fanned herself with her black shawl.  Across the room to his right the Bolgers and Brandybucks formed a quiet, straight-backed group, soon joined by his son and the captain of the border watch.

“Are all the principals here?” he called, looking over the room.  “Where is Meriadoc Brandybuck?” he asked, the stiff formality in his voice stilling the last low murmurs in the packed room.

“Still abed, healer’s orders,” Saradoc answered into the silence.  “Peregrin Took and Estella Bolger will speak for him.”

“Very well.  Let us begin.”

***   ***   ***

“I’m sorry nephew, but some will not believe what they’ve not witnessed themselves, my husband among them, and they need a shock to find the truth undeniable,” Eglantine said, gently stroking Merry’s curls into some kind of order.

Merry simply nodded.  His body bore the only proof of Tengo’s malice and nothing less would tip the scales when only their word stood against a dead hobbit’s character.  Eglantine helped him slip the light shirt over his bandaged chest, one arm still tightly bound to immobilize his wounded shoulder.

He entered the crowded hall, leaning on Berilac’s strong arm, amid the murmured exclamations of the assembled hobbits.  Heads turned to watch his slow approach, momentarily distracted from the shouting match taking place before the head table.  Paladin caught sight of him and banged on the table for quiet, though without much success.

“Silence!” the old hobbit roared, shocking the Brandybucks and Goodbodies before him into sudden stillness.

By now, Merry had reached Pippin’s side before the head table.  Cora Goodbody sniffed, looking him up and down with a frown.

“You don’t look half dead to me,” she said.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I hear my cousin’s words are in doubt?”

“I see no proof here!  Looks more to me like he’s had the losing end of a tavern brawl, no more,” she sneered, and murmurs and nods followed her words.

There was no room for pride or modesty here.  No precedents existed to guide the Thain’s judgment and the findings here had to be final and indisputable or the Goodbodies would cry foul until the end of days.  Reaching for the small buttons of his shirt, Merry fumbled one handed for a moment before Pippin mercifully cut in to finish the job.

“I’m sorry about this,” he whispered as he tugged the last one free. “Why they can’t just take our word for it…”

“I know,” Merry replied softly, wincing as the dressing on the cuts was removed.  “I’m going to look like a damned map before long,” he murmured in Pippin’s ear, by way of apology for the distress plain on his cousin’s face as he revealed the crisscrossing wounds with an unsteady hand.

Looking up, Merry found the Thain’s eyes on him, taking in the fading bruises on his face, the finger marks around his neck.  He noted the clenching jaw as Paladin’s gaze trailed down across the raw red cuts still glaring angrily against his pale skin.  He had a glimpse of Cora’s gap-mouthed shock from the corner of one eye and suppressed a bitter smile.  Some things were hard to overlook, even for family.

“You’re well enough to be here?” the Thain’s low growl called his attention back to the gray hobbit whose word would send these miscreants into exile or beggar his father’s house in monetary reparations to Tengo’s family for his death.

“Duty calls,” he replied simply.

“You received these… injuries the day Peregrin’s party found you?”

“Yes.”

“Who cut you?”

“Tengo Goodbody.”

“You are certain?”

“Yes.”

“None these others had a part in it?”

“They held me.  They watched.”

“These hobbits claim that you provoked his attack on you, that there were whispered words between you at the end.”

“We traded words, but he needed no provocation for his actions.  He did this before that conversation took place.”

“What was it about?”

“It’s no longer relevant.”

“That will be my decision to make.  What was said?” Paladin snapped.

“He didn’t care for my response to his plans for Miss Bolger,” Merry answered, hoping the Thain would not inquire further into events he and Estella had both agreed should remain between them while they could.  While their vows were valid and their actions justified, the complications and gossip that would ensue were better avoided than endured.

“What plans?” he insisted, eyes narrowed with dark suspicion.

“There’s no need…” Merry started.

“My brother had only kind regard for Estella Bolger, for all she’s been very ungrateful for all that he’d done for her father,” Cora broke in.

“And kind regard usually involves being bound and gagged by your book?” Estella sniped from where she sat between her parents.

“Ladies!” Paladin warned.  “You have both had your say, and unless there is anything new to add, I think I can put an end to this distasteful business very soon.  I’ll return with my decision in a few minutes,” he finished, rising from his seat to hobble out by the small door behind him.

A rush of sound, like a cresting wave, followed his departure.

“I cannot believe Cora is continuing with this farce,” Saradoc muttered, glaring at the little round woman across the room.

“Oh, they’re a contentious lot, those Goodbodies,” his brother Merimac replied.  “Old Tando was alright, but the rest of them would cut off their noses to spite their faces.”

“I just can’t believe we didn’t notice this was going on…”

“Lets just be thankful Tengo likes to hear himself talk,” Merry murmured, half-falling into a chair between them.  “Otherwise, we’d still be wondering what happened when he handed us our hats on our way down the river.”

***   ***    ***

Paladin walked slowly down the long hallway, his gait loosening as movement restored the sluggish circulation in his legs.  He wandered absently past bobbing maids and running children, but his mind was filled with all he’d heard and seen today.  He’d been so right, and yet so wrong, about everything.  Evil would not stay out just because you shut your door, and he had failed his office and his people when he had turned his back on the rest of the Shire.  No good had come from hiding, yes, hiding, damn it, like a frightened child, behind his fears, his walls, his duties…  He was getting too old for this, his heart…  His heart could no longer bear the sharp edges of life and it was showing.

“I have to get back to Whitwell…  The last of the summer honey must be got soon,” he murmured.

He stopped before the heavy silver mirror that hung in the entryway to Brandy Hall.  The weary-eyed hobbit facing him frowned, gray brows furrowed and lips drawn into a thin line, hardly the face he remembered at all.

“When did I get so old?” he murmured to the image before him.

***   ***   ***

The crowded hall was silent as the Thain returned to pronounce his judgment, accusers and accused standing quietly before him.  He turned first to Cora and her kin, most of whom refused to meet his eye.

“Since Tengo went out of his way to conceal his activities from you, I deem you bear no responsibility for the harm he has done.  However, some reparations will need to be made from his estate, once an accurate survey has been conducted of his affairs.  With regard to your claim, Cora, it is denied.  Your brother earned his death; he needs no further payment for it.

“As for you,” he continued, turning to the five hobbits that stood accused.  “You have broken too many of our oldest, most enduring laws to forgive.  Until the coming of Men, violent death had no place among us, and our womenfolk had no fear of undue attentions from greedy hearts.  In perpetuating the ruffians’ evils, you have continued to break the peace of the Shire that was your home and bread until this day.  If Men’s ways are yours, to kill and thieve from your own kin, then let your fate go with theirs.  You are hereby banished and will be marked and cast beyond our border.  May you find what mercy the wide world may have for such as you.”

“Peregrin Took.  Berilac Brandybuck.  Though your quick actions saved a life, they also took more than one.  In future please remember that deadly force has no recall and is always a last recourse.  That having been said, I think we are all grateful for what you’ve done.  The alternative is simply too awful to contemplate.”

He nodded once in their direction and rose to leave again by the little door behind him.  He found that Saradoc barred his way, level gaze stern but not unfriendly.  “Stay awhile, brother, we have much to discuss, and to celebrate,” he said one hand extended hopefully.

A small smile twitched at Paladin’s lips, threatening to bloom into outright relieved laughter.  No grand gestures then, just this.  He nodded.  This was enough.

“That indeed we do,” he replied, clasping the other’s hand. “We most certainly do.”