Stories of Arda Home Page
About Us News Resources Login Become a member Help Search
swiss replica watches replica watches uk Replica Rolex DateJust Watches

Runaway  by Lindelea

Chapter 4. The Game of the Name

 

‘Well, well, what have we here?’ Hally Bolger said as Ferdibrand strode into the clearing with his burden. ‘Brought one of your lads for a visit?’

‘Not one of mine,’ Ferdi answered. ‘This-un’s a stray I picked up in the woods. It's anybody's guess where he comes from or who he belongs to, and he won’t speak a word, in the bargain.’

‘That’s a nice knot in the log to bounce an axe off of,’ Hally observed. ‘Hurt, as well, I see.’

‘O aye,’ Ferdi answered. ‘When I found him he was but one jump ahead of a fox.’

‘Looks as if the fox got him,’ Hally said.

‘That fox didn’t, save a slash on the leg, but this Fox did,’ Ferdi jested, referring to the name he’d gone by in the long fight to keep the ruffians out of Tookland during the Troubles.

Hally laughed. ‘Well you’re late for tea but I imagine Rosemary can find you some crumbs,’ he said. ‘Come in.’

‘Ferdi!’ Rosemary called from the washstand, where she and her daughters were just finishing washing up the tea things.

‘Rosie!’ Ferdi called back.

‘You’re late,’ she chided. ‘You usually have better timing and arrive whilst the scones are still hot.’

‘Your scones, cold, are better than anyone else’s fresh out of the oven,’ Ferdi said. ‘Have you a place where I can put down my pack?’

‘Is it one of your lads?’ Rosie said, peering closer, but Faramir kept his face buried in Ferdi’s cloak. ‘Fredevar?’

‘He’s picked up a stray,’ Hally said, hanging up his axe. ‘Same size as Freddy, but Ferdi says he’s a foundling.’

‘A foundling!’ Rosemary said. ‘Ferdi, are you serious?’

‘Completely,’ Ferdi said. ‘I found him in the wood, no trace of his family. He near made a meal for a fox, and he won’t speak a word, so I brought him here, since I was on my way to visit anyhow.’

‘Lay him down here,’ Rosemary said, leading to one of the beds in the corner of the kitchen. The woodcarver’s family had outgrown the bedrooms built onto the house and Hally had not yet got a new room added on.

Ferdi crouched before the bed and eased Faramir backwards and down. The lad hid his face in his arms.

‘Come now, laddie,’ Rosemary coaxed, trying to bring the arms down. ‘Let us see you now.’

‘He’s a bit shy,’ Ferdi said.

‘As I’d be, had I only strange folk surrounding me and my own nowhere in sight,’ his sister said sharply, then softened her tone. ‘Come, lad.’

Behind the screen of his arms, Faramir shook his head.

‘Leave him be,’ Ferdi said. ‘He’s tired and overwrought.’

‘He can hardly eat with his face hid,’ Rosemary argued.

‘Rose, let him alone,’ Hally said. ‘Come now, who wants to take a walk to settle their tea?’ There was good sense in the woodcarver; he knew the lad was likely to hide as long as a circle of curious Bolgers stood about staring.

‘You go ahead,’ Ferdi said. ‘I’ll keep watch here.’

‘Very well,’ Rosemary said reluctantly. She warmed the teapot, then dumped out the water to add tea and boiling water, cosied the pot, set out two mugs, milk, sweetening, plates, knives and a platter of scones, a little crock of butter and another of preserves. ‘You just help yourselves.’

‘Thanks, Rose,’ Ferdi said, with a kiss for her cheek, then, ignoring the lad on the bed, he sat down at the table and began to fix a scone to his liking.

‘Keep half an eye on the stew?’ she said, following her family out the door. ‘If it starts to boil with too much vigour, just swing it out a bit so that it’s not directly over the fire.’

Ferdi swallowed a tender, crumbly mouthful and said, ‘I’ll watch the stew.’ A delicious smell from the kettle promised fine things to come.

‘Rose!’ Hally was heard to call from the yard.

‘If there’s anything else...’ Rosemary said, turning back at the door.

‘I’ll tell you when you get back, if I think of anything,’ Ferdi said, nodding at her to go. She went.

Ferdi poured out two mugs of tea, adding a little milk and a spoonful of honey to his (Hally valued his coin too much to spend it on sugar, when he could have honey for free), and generous amounts of milk and honey to Faramir’s, then helped himself to another scone.

Farry kept his arms over his face awhile longer, just in case one of the family should come back for some forgotten item, then rose from the bed and limped over to the table.

He nodded thanks to Ferdibrand, helping himself to scones and sipping at his tea, smiling wryly to find it fixed to his taste. Ferdi did everything right, it seemed. He was a discouraging companion for one running away from failure.

Farry was careful not to make a sound. No doubt Ferdibrand was waiting for the smallest excuse to carry him back to the Great Smials. They ate in companionable silence. When Farry was finished, he rose from the table and turned back towards the bed, his leg hurting like fire.

‘Take your dishes to the washstand,’ Ferdi said quietly. The lad’s shoulders stiffened; he was not used to doing servants’ work. To his credit, however, or perhaps only because he was mindful of their bargain, he picked up his plate, knife, and cup and limped over to the washstand, depositing the dishes there.

When he turned back, Ferdi said, ‘Go ahead, wash them. The water ought to be warm, still.’

Faramir looked down at the two basins, one filled with soapy water and the water in the other relatively clear. He picked up the dishcloth, took up each item in turn, washed it in the soapy water, rinsed it, set it aside. The water was pleasantly warm on his hands and wrists. He finished, wrung out the dishcloth, hung it where he’d found it, and turned to Ferdi.

‘Dry them,’ Ferdi said from the table, where he sat sipping his tea. ‘Put them away, you can see where to hang the mug, and the plate goes on the shelf above with the others.’ Farry complied, silently congratulating himself when he found the knife’s resting place without prompting.

‘Good,’ Ferdi said. ‘You may lie down and rest the leg now if you wish.’

Farry nodded ironically, since he couldn’t say “Thanks” with just the proper amount of sarcasm, couldn’t say it at all, as a matter of fact, and limped to the bed. He was careful to turn towards the wall and put his arms up to hide his face just in case the family returned. He heard Ferdi pour more tea, the clink of the spoon in the cup, a cautious sip of the steaming liquid. Just before he fell asleep, he thought he heard Ferdi get up from the table, and then the quiet splashing of washing-up. He did not hear the Bolgers return from their walk, nor did he realise that, as he relaxed in sleep, his arms came down, leaving his face in sight.

***

The Bolgers returned, Rosemary shushing the children and shooing them out into the yard again when she saw the lad was asleep. The dishes were washed up and put away, the cloth was on the table, the washbasins had been dumped on the rosebushes outside the door and hung up to dry. Ferdi was sitting in the rocking chair by the fire, carving something from a piece of firewood. She was glad to see the fire was nicely mended, the kettle in just the right place to cook but not burn their dinner.

‘How was your tea?’ she said softly. She crossed to the bed, noting that Ferdi had pulled the coverlet up over the sleeping figure, inhaling sharply at her first sight of the lad’s face.

‘Ferdi!’ she said. ‘Why didn’t you say you had the son of the Thain with you?’

‘Son of the Thain?’ Ferdi said in surprise, rising from the chair to walk softly over to the bed. ‘Aye, there is a resemblance. This one’s older, though, he’s taller than a ten-year-old would be.’

‘Faramir Took is taller than most lads his age,’ Rosemary said, eyeing her brother suspiciously. ‘He takes after his father.’

‘Well Diamond told me that Farry went off to Buckland with his father, so unless something’s happened to the Thain, ‘tis difficult to imagine why Faramir would be in the middle of nowhere being chased by a fox, can you?’ Ferdi had to tread very carefully, as Rosemary had the same talent for sifting truth from error as he had himself.

‘You’re telling me this is not Faramir Took?’ Rosemary said slowly.

‘How could it be?’ Ferdi shrugged. Thus far he had said naught but truth, half-truth though it be, but Rosemary watched him narrowly all the same.

‘I do not know,’ his sister said shrewdly, ‘but I suspect you are not telling me the entire truth.’

Ferdi made a face, not trusting himself to speak. He was saved for the moment by a stir from the bed. Faramir awakened, and seeing himself under scrutiny, pulled his arms up over his face again.

‘Come lad,’ Rosemary coaxed, plucking at his sleeve. ‘I’ve seen your face, and it is not ill-favoured, so do not hide it away. What’s your name?’

Faramir slowly and reluctantly lowered his arms, to be rewarded by a smile from the woodcarver’s wife. ‘That’s better,’ she said. ‘It is a remarkable resemblance, Ferdi, but of course you’re right. There is no way the son of the Thain could be out in the wood without an escort, about to be eaten by a fox. The Tooks take too much care for that ever to happen.’

Ferdi smiled and nodded reassuringly at the lad.

‘What shall we call him, then?’ he said. ‘I do not think he’d fancy “Hoi, you there!” though he might learn to answer to it well enough.’

‘We could try to guess,’ Rosemary said.

‘It would be a long, hard game unless we were lucky enough to hit it on an early try,’ Ferdibrand replied. ‘Since he looks like the son of the Thain, why don’t we just call him “Farry” for the nonce, until he unlocks his tongue and enlightens us?’

‘Would that be all right? Farry?’ Rosemary asked warmly, cupping the lad’s chin in a gentle hand.

Faramir looked to Ferdi, then back to Rosemary.

‘He doesn’t seem to object,’ Ferdibrand observed. To the lad, he said, ‘We’ll call you “Farry”, then, until a better name suggests itself.’

 





<< Back

Next >>

Leave Review
Home     Search     Chapter List