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A Healer's Tale  by Lindelea

Chapter 27. Silver Pennies and Showers of Blessing

Haldibold Took stayed on for several days, watching over his son and even taking some of the calls that came in for a healer; he set a broken leg and prescribed hot poultices for an infection, and he dealt with a severe outbreak of indigestion amongst a circle of tweens who’d eaten too many green apples raided from a local orchard. All this, while Woodruff attended to yet another difficult birthing, and checked on young Pippin of Whittacres, pronouncing him “well enough to get up, but keep an eye upon the lad for a few days more”, stitched the gashes of a lad who'd fallen from his uncle's hayloft, sat with a feverish gaffer, and for relaxation, gathered herbs, taking Beryl along with her to keep her from hovering over Mardi, which would not quite be proper since the hobbit had not as of yet spoken to the lass...

It was just as well. Another assistant, or two even, were definitely needed. Woodruff certainly could not keep up with all the demands on her time, not even with Mardi’s father helping to fill the gap left by Mardi’s injury.

At last old Haldibold took his leave, satisfied—no, elated!—at the healing he saw in his son, and quite in awe of the young healer of Whitwell. He was confident that when Mardi returned to Tuckborough, he’d bring a wealth of knowledge with him, and a great deal of comfort to Haldi’s patients.

 ‘And here I thought I’d be bringing him back with me now, to live out the rest of his days a helpless invalid,’ he confided, taking Woodruff’s hands in his own as they stood in the front garden. Tru had gone to fetch their ponies, Haldibold’s and his own, for they’d be riding in company to the Great Smials. ‘Bless you, child. Bless you.’

 ‘It’s his own body that’s doing the healing,’ Woodruff said with a smile and a squeeze of Haldi’s hands. ‘I’m only helping a little.’

Tru brought up the ponies and tied them to the gate, then went into the smial for a few last-minute preparations. Haldi released Woodruff and moved to his pony, to rummage in one of the saddle-bags. He brought out a small leather sack that looked heavy for its size.

 ‘Here,’ he said, thrusting it into Woodruff’s hands. It jingled and settled heavily as she grasped it.

 ‘What...?’ she gasped.

 ‘I thought I’d have to hire a coach and driver,’ he said. ‘There’s no way an armless hobbit could ride the winding, hilly trails through the Green Hills from here to Tuckborough! No,’ he said, ‘I thought we’d have to go the long way round, up to Waymoot and over through Bywater and Frogmorton, down to Stock and then on the Stock-Tuckborough Road. ‘Twould be ruinous, the cost of hiring a coach and driver for that long a journey, and the inns, and the meals along the way, and then to pay his time and travel back to Whitwell!’

 ‘But...’ Woodruff protested.

Haldibold closed his hands around hers, securing the sack in her grip with a shake that made the contents jingle. ‘I fully expected to part with this money,’ he said. ‘It’s already gone, in my mind. You might as well take it; you’ve earned it, and more... and all I have to do is ride my pony back home as the crows would fly. No week-in-a-coach to worry about!’

 ‘I...’ Woodruff said.

The old hobbit leaned closer to lay a kiss against her cheek. ‘Bless you,’ he said again. ‘I’m sure you’ll make good use of it. Buy yourself a pony! Buy yourself another assistant, perhaps! Not as if you don’t need one, even if my son weren’t laid up for the time being... in any event, the money is yours, and I’ll be terribly insulted if you try to offer it back to me. I might even think it necessary to double the amount, which would ruin me!’ Haldibold winked to soften this dire prediction, but he squeezed her hands, and when he released them the sack remained.

 ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Woodruff said hastily, and the old hobbit chuckled.

Tru emerged from the smial, followed by the rest of his family, and even Mardi, who’d been allowed up out of bed since yesterday, though his hands were still bandaged and useless.

 ‘I thought you were a reasonable hobbit,’ Haldibold said in satisfaction. ‘My Mardi is in good hands.’

There was laughter at that, except perhaps on the part of Ted, though as he was busy lifting his littlest brother onto his shoulders, nobody noticed.

 ‘Off again, Tru?’ a passing neighbour called. ‘On another commission for the Thain?’

 ‘Nay,’ Tru called back. ‘A little commission for the healer!’ He winked at Woodruff. She was sending him to Tuckborough to procure the finest gloves a gentlehobbit might buy, for even after the dressings and bandages were off—and they’d be coming off in only two or three days more—Mardi’s hands would still need protection for some time. The new-grown skin would be delicate and must be carefully guarded to prevent further injury, even infection.

But it looked as if the dent in her savings would be more than replenished by Haldibold’s contribution.

In the cool of the morning, a few days later, the healer of Whitwell left a note on the door of her smial and walked the two miles out to the Grubbs’ farm. She found the kitchen a-bustle with table-clearing and washing up from second breakfast, though of course Autumn Grubb greeted her warmly and sat her down in the rocking chair by the hearth with a cup of tea, and Lilac brought little Andy for her inspection.

Woodruff duly admired the bright little tooth that had popped through, and its neighbour that had just broken the skin.

 ‘He’s gnawin’ on everything he can get into his mouth,’ Lilac said proudly, and the babe happily waved his hard biscuit and crowed.

Next Violet was brought forth, for the nearly healed burns on her legs to be examined. To cap off this process, little Letty seized the old cow bell that stood in the windowsill and danced a tot’s rendition of the Springle-ring. Hetty, especially, watched this with satisfaction from the corner where she sat with the mending.

 ‘Very pretty!’ Woodruff laughed, clapping her hands.

 ‘And mine are nearly healed as well,’ Autumn said, displaying her arm as Lilac took her charges away, to the delightful pastime of beating the dust from the rugs that Andson and Paddy had hauled outside and hung up for that purpose.

“Big” Andy came in from the byre, stopping off to wash his hands in the bucket by the entry. ‘No, no, don’t stir yourself,’ he said as Woodruff rose to meet him. He stuck out a hammy hand, large and good-natured and calloused from hard labour, enveloping Woodruff’s small, soft hand, and gave a gentle shake. ‘I cannot thank you enough for all you’ve done,’ he said. ‘The burns, they’re nearly healed, and little Letty won’t even have a scar, or so it looks! And how is Mardi? Had he not been there...’

 ‘Healing,’ Woodruff said, ‘thanks in part to the honey you brought to town for him.’

 ‘If only there were more I could do,’ Andy said, but releasing her hand, he went to the cracked teapot on the mantle that held the family’s fortunes. Lifting the lid, he stirred through the copper there until he found a piece of silver.

 ‘Here you are,’ he said. ‘A silver penny for this visit, and very kind of you to come out this far to see how everyone is healing...’

 ‘But that’s not what I came for,’ Woodruff said.

 ‘Nevertheless, we’d been expecting your visit,’ Andy said. ‘You always check to see that healing is proceeding in a satisfactory manner...’ The rest of the family laughed to hear the long words that rolled so easily from Woodruff or Mardi’s tongues, coming from Andy’s mouth.

 ‘But...’ Woodruff began, and then she took the silver coin in hand. ‘You’re sure you don’t want to make it a chicken instead?’ she said. ‘I know how difficult it is to come by silver...’

 ‘Your larder must be bursting already,’ Andy said with a chuckle. ‘Potatoes and onions, carrots and cabbages, chickens and eggs...’

 ‘It has been a busy time,’ Woodruff admitted, and mustered her courage. ‘Which is why I’ve come to talk to you...’

 ‘To talk to me?’ Andy said in surprise.

 ‘Yes, sir,’ Woodruff said, looking at the hobbits bustling about the kitchen. ‘As head of your family...’

 ‘Sounds like parlour talk,’ Autumn said, putting down the cloth she was using to wipe the dishes. The Grubbs family had no parlour, but in no time Autumn had shooed the rest of the family out-of-doors. When she went to the corner to help Hetty rise, Woodruff forestalled her.

 ‘Wait,’ she said. ‘This concerns Hetty, so she might as well stay.’

 ‘Hetty!’ Andy said, and his wife echoed in alarm. Autumn looked quickly down at her daughter, looking for signs that something might be amiss, something worse than the near to useless leg, that was, that Hetty had lived with since she was about the age of little Violet.

Andy brought the bench from the table, seated his wife, helped Hetty from her corner seat to the bench, and at last seated himself. The three of them sat in a row, looking expectantly at the healer.

Woodruff took a deep breath and plunged in. ‘I’m in need of a second assistant,’ she said.

 ‘A second assistant,’ Autumn echoed politely, her arm about Hetty’s waist as she awaited the healer’s bad news.

 ‘Yes,’ Woodruff said. ‘I need someone with a good head on her shoulders, who can take direction, yet can think for herself. Someone with a good eye for detail, who can tell a weed from an herb, and with a gentle hand and soothing voice...’

Hetty caught her breath; her eyes were shining.

 ‘I don’t understand,’ Andy said slowly. ‘What has this got to do with our Hetty?’

 ‘I’d like to buy your daughter, for my newest assistant,’ Woodruff said. She brought out a little leather sack from her healer’s bag and held it out to the farmer. ‘Seven years’ apprenticeship—this is the standard fee, as custom demands. If you and Hetty agree, that is...’

Hetty looked from father to mother, hope lighting her face.

 ‘But...’ Andy said slowly, and Woodruff could see that it nearly killed him to say the words. ‘But she’s... she has...’

 ‘I’ve arranged to buy a donkey,’ Woodruff said. ‘A small, gentle beast. She can easily climb onto his back, and get down again. He can be her legs, whenever she needs to go somewhere—into the fields and woods to gather herbs and dig roots, or to bind up a wound or set a broken bone or bring a new babe into the world. She has a wonderfully quick mind, a loving heart, and clever hands, and that’s mostly what’s needed in healing.’ She offered the bag again, and the farmer took it in his hands, unconsciously testing the weight of the coins within.

 ‘O Dad!’ Hetty whispered. ‘A dowry for Leaf! A new-thatched roof for the byre! Why...’ her face shone with the thought that her father's burden might be lightened, 'you could hire workers to help with harvest, and next year's ploughing!'

 ‘Is this what you want, Hetty?’ Andy said, turning to his daughter.

 ‘Not for Leaf, but for yourself, lovie,’ Autumn said, holding Hetty a little more tightly. ‘What do you want?’

 ‘O Mum!’ Hetty said with a sparkling smile.

 ‘Hepatica Grubb,’ Woodruff said formally, taking the lass’s hand in hers. ‘Will you bind yourself as an apprentice to me, for the next seven years, to learn the trade of a healer?’

 'Oh,' Hetty breathed. She looked from her father's serious face--but O! the smile in his eyes--to her mother's joyful tears, and then to the waiting healer. Breaking into the widest smile she'd ever known she gave a decisive nod. 'Yes! O yes, Healer Woodruff, gladly I will!'

***

Woodruff's heart was much lighter as she walked the two miles back to Whitwell. Andy had offered to hitch up the waggon and drive her, but she'd demurred. 'You've a celebration to be making,' she'd said, 'and I've work waiting for me, and besides, it's a beautiful day. All too soon the autumn rains will be coming down. I've a mind to enjoy the sun while she's shining.'

It had been arranged that the Grubbs family would drive Hetty to Whitwell two days hence, on market day, hitting two birds with one stone, as it were. This would give Beryl time to ready a bedroom for Hetty, and would give Woodruff time to finalise the purchase of the donkey. Tal and Thom and two younger brothers were already repairing the old fencing behind the smial, that made a small paddock for a grazing beast, whether goat or pony or ass, and on the morrow they'd put a new roof on the shelter that stood in one corner.

Tea that day was a festive affair for Tru Took's family as well, for he was expected back from Tuckborough, and Mardi would be taking tea with the family for the first time since the accident.

Mira laid the best cloth and Almandine, her youngest daughter, cut a wide swath through the flowerbed, making the front room into a garden bower. Beryl set the table with the good china, that was used when the Thain came to tea, and everyone donned their best and wore their happiest faces.

Woodruff was sitting on the little bench in her front garden with Mardi and Ted when Tru rode up. Ted jumped to his feet at once to take the pony to the livery, where Tru boarded him. 'I'll be back in time for tea!' he called over his shoulder.

'Well, Mardi,' Tru said, entering with a paper-wrapped parcel in hand. 'Today is the big day, eh?'

'It is,' Mardi said, having risen in greeting. He looked down at his bandaged hands and up again quickly as he tried to hide his apprehension.

'The bandages come off,' Woodruff agreed, rising to kiss her "uncle" in welcome. 'And you may be my assistant, Uncle Tru!'

They went into the smial, into the little sitting room, where Woodruff sat Mardi down in the best chair. 'Would you like a draught, first?' she asked quietly, looking intently into his face.

He gulped and protested. 'What are you talking about? The new skin's grown, as you said it would! Why, there's scarcely any discomfort at all, any more!'

Tru placed a steadying hand on Mardi's shoulder. 'Here you are,' he said, holding the parcel out to Woodruff. She unwrapped the paper and fingered the three pairs of fine gloves within. 'Lovely,' she breathed. 'Soft and smooth, and nearly as thin as your own skin, Mardi!'

'Hard to believe,' he muttered. The new skin growing over the burns was thinner than tissue and twice as fragile, easily torn.

'Well, let us see...' Woodruff said, handing the gloves to Tru.

Woodruff gently unwrapped the bandages and lifted off the dressings. The new skin shone pink and smooth, in sharp contrast to the brown skin on the undamaged parts of Mardi's arm.

'It appears I'm a brindle,' he said lightly.

'So it appears,' Woodruff said, depositing linen and lint on the table beside them. Tru gathered all, putting the gloves down in their place, and took the used bandages and dressings to the waiting basket in the back room, to await washing and boiling clean. When he returned, Woodruff was smoothing salve over Mardi's fingers, slowly and gently massaging, and feeling the joints and muscles under the skin.

'Yes,' she said in response to the unspoken question. 'Everything seems to be in working order.' She picked up one of the gloves and eased it onto Mardi's hand, gently tugging each finger into place. 'How does that feel?'

Mardi had grimaced, but now his face smoothed and he said. 'A bit ticklish, getting the glove on.'

'Move your fingers,' Woodruff said, and he complied. 'Close your fist,' she said, holding out a finger, and watched as Mardi's hand closed around it. 'Good,' Woodruff said. 'Now, take that book with the blue cover from the shelf.'

The glove was so thin and fine that Mardi had no trouble picking out the indicated book.

'Good,' Woodruff said. 'Now then,' she nodded towards the little writing desk. 'Sign your name for me.'

'Got any red ink?' Mardi said, moving to the desk.

'No contract today, just a signature,' Woodruff said.

Mardi nodded, took the cap from the ink bottle, pulled a piece of paper from the cubby, picked up the pen and dipped it, and wrote his name with a flourish while True and Woodruff looked on.

'Very good,' Woodruff said in satisfaction.

'Why,' Mardi said, hope brightening his face. 'I think...'

Beryl appeared in the doorway, her eyes anxious, but when she saw Mardi writing--writing!--her face lit with relief and delight, though all she said was, 'Mum's just set the tea to brewing, and table's set and ready, and Thom's threatened to eat all the tea cakes if you come late...'

'We cannot have that!' Mardi boomed, beaming. 'Why, your mum makes the best tea cakes...!'

'I made them, today,' Beryl said, putting her hands on her hips.

'Well you make the next-best to your mum's,' Mardi said gallantly.

'We have one more glove to go,' Woodruff said. 'Hold those ponies! Don't let them run off just yet!'

Ted appeared in the doorway as Woodruff was working the salve into the sensitive areas between Mardi's fingers as Tru and Beryl watched. Her head was bent over Mardi's hand, and she had a smile on her face. Ted stood silently and watched the healer's tender ministrations, and he made a private resolve.

'There,' Woodruff said at last. 'The glove...'

Tru offered a second glove, and Woodruff carefully worked it onto Mardi's hand. 'All set,' she said, and Mardi gave a nod as he loosely opened and closed his fists.

'I'm out of a job, am I?' Ted said.

Woodruff looked up with a bright smile. 'It appears that you are, Ted!' she said. 'Mardi'll be feeding himself from now on, I've no doubt in the matter!'

'Fine news,' Ted said. 'I'll just go back to travelling on the Thain's business, then.'

'Plenty of business, to be sure,' Tru said, 'and I cannot say but that I'll welcome your shouldering some of my load once more.' He stretched. 'I have enjoyed being at home when Mira's biscuits come out of the oven! They're not quite the same, eaten cold from a saddlebag!'

'Come along, then,' Beryl said, suddenly recalled to her duty. 'They're not quite the same, eaten cold with cold tea that's been waiting too long for the guest of honour!'

Laughing, the Tooks went to their tea.





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