Chapter 22. Debt

Merry took off his cloak and hung it on one of the hooks by the door as he came in, but Pippin kept his on and went to sit by the fireplace. Merry gave him an anxious glance, and looked around for Rosemary.

'Is there any of that hot toddy left?' he asked her. 'I'm afraid the Thain has taken a bit of a chill.'

She followed his eyes. The Thain looked well enough, but he was certainly very close to the fire, holding his hands out to the flames and rubbing them together.

'I'll make him a tisane, Master Merry - that'll do him more good than more wine. Just let me get the children settled to their lessons.' She bustled into the girls' bedroom. Merry could see through the doorway that all the children were gathered there, with their slates and books around them. A well-behaved gaggle of youngsters, he thought; that many children in one small room at the Hall would have been a disaster, but here, the oldest girls was reading a story to the little ones, while Robin whittled something in the corner. The littlest girl held a skein of wool stretched between her hands, while the middle sister wound it off into a ball. He didn't see Farry; he supposed the lad had been sent back to bed for a nap.

In a matter of minutes Rosemary had Robin working figures on his slate and the wool-winders sitting on the bed with one book between them. "Read to each other now, turn and turn about, to the end of the chapter. Parsley, when you finish that story, give them their slates and show them how to practice their letters, will you, dear? And you'd better write that letter to Aunt Pansy so it can go off to the Smials with Uncle Ferdi - I don't know how much longer he'll be here.'

Merry stood aside as she brushed past him to the herb cabinet, preparing to make Pippin's tisane. She took it for granted, apparently, that Ferdi would be willing to return to Tuckborough - Merry wasn't so sure. If I had come that close to the iron against my cheek, he thought… If I were Ferdi, what would I do? Or Tolly, either - marched off bound, between guards, under the eyes of everyone at the Smials - stars above! The Tooks will never forget it; the whispers will run like rats through the back corridors of the Smials for years to come, and not everyone will be content to believe the accusations false…

His thoughts ground to a sickening halt. The accusations were false. Shire tradition did not deal lightly with a hobbit who accused another falsely. He saw the bottle of brandy still out on the mantel shelf, and without asking he took down a mug and poured himself a stiff shot, downing it at a gulp. Poor manners, that, to help himself. He went to stare out the window, his back to the room; he'd worry about his manners later.

Haldi and Tolly were playing Kings, the other hobbits gathered round the table watching the game and talking quietly. Ferdi had been smoking, but he'd knocked out his pipe into the fireplace when Pippin came in.

'And there you are,' Tolly said with a laugh. 'Three games played, three games won - come along, who's next in line? You, Ferdi? No one else can beat me, but you might - 'tis your lucky day, as well as mine!'

Ferdi grinned. 'No, I'll just watch. Give someone else your place, Tolly, since you're invincible today.'

Pippin had thrown off his cloak, finally, and leaned back in his chair watching Rosemary working by the fire, pouring boiling water into a small teapot. She turned and brought a narrow tray table from the corner, setting it beside him, and he looked at her inquiringly.

'I've made you a tisane,' she said. 'You seemed a bit chilled, and we can't have you getting sick next.'

Pippin regarded the mug and the little teapot with a glum expression, seeming about to argue, but then gave in with a sigh. 'O very well, Rosemary. Thank you.' She chuckled.

'You're very welcome! I know you must be weary of having folk fuss over you.'

That drew a smile and he nodded pleasantly to her as he raised the mug to his lips. Then he caught Ferdi's eye, and his smile vanished. 'I have wronged you again, cousin,' he said quietly, 'for the second time in our lives. It is a wonder to me that you ever trusted me again after last time.'

'I didn't,' Ferdi said simply.

Pippin was taken aback, searching his cousin's face. 'Well, you're honest, anyway,' he said at last.

'O so you've finally noticed that?' Ferdi said with a lift of his eyebrows.

Merry had come over to stand by them, leaning one arm against the mantel. 'That brings us to our next point,' he said in a clear voice, and the buzz of conversation around the table died away as everyone looked at him.

Ferdi exchanged glances with Tolly. He was not sure he liked the sound of this. What next? Come to think of it, he'd never heard of a hobbit sentenced to banishment and then reprieved.

'Our next point?' Pippin asked.

'We have had a false accusation,' Merry said. 'We cannot sidestep the issue. Tradition requires that it be dealt with.' His eyes on Pippin were dark with sorrow.

Pippin felt as if the floor was falling away under his feet. 'Tradition calls for the punishment to fit the crime,' he said slowly. 'I have brought a false accusation against Tolibold and Ferdibrand. In justice I ought to bear the punishment I would have seen them suffer.'

'Banish the Thain?' Ferdi whispered, incredulous. 'Cousin, you jest! You must be jesting,' he said, half rising from the table.

'Sit down, Ferdi,' Merry said grimly. 'It is not a jest.' He stared into the fire, brooding, as if he might read some message in the dancing flames.

'This is ridiculous!' Ferdi protested, but he sat down. He met Tolly's eyes and saw that the head of escort was as horrified as he was.

'Don't forget me,' Everard said, and his brother Regi buried his face in his hands. 'I'm the one who spun a whole piece of cloth from spiderwebs. I ought to bear the brand, not the Thain - Pippin was only following the thread I spun.' It was a brave speech, from one who had always tried to walk uprightly, who had held himself to a higher standard, and usually lived up to it.

'Ev'ard,' Ferdi said, putting a hand on Everard's arm, but Everard jerked away. His elbow knocked against the forgotten Kings board, and it spun away to the floor, scattering pieces everywhere. No one bent to pick them up.

'No, Ferdi,' he said. 'I do not deserve compassion from you, nor forgiveness either. What I did-'

'You have it, nonetheless,' Ferdi broke in.

'How can you say that? We were your friends, your kinsmen, we've known you all your life! To believe such wickedness of you - and without even asking you to explain yourself - don't tell me you can forgive that. I could not!''

'I was a fool, Ev'ard,' Ferdi replied. 'And so was Tolly. I should never have tried to keep this from the Thain. I meant to protect him, but instead I hurt him, I betrayed his trust, I probably gave him some of the worst hours of his life, all the time thinking I knew what was best.'

'Speak for yourself,' Tolly said. Ferdi raised an eyebrow at him, and he looked away. 'O very well. You're right, I suppose. I was a fool to go along with it, and I've paid the price: I've had the scare of my life.' His hand went up unbidden to touch his cheek.

'I will never forgive myself for this,' Everard said.

'More fool you, then,' Tolly said bluntly. 'Ferdi's already forgiven you, and you have my forgiveness as well. Don't be stupid, Ev'ard, and make the situation worse by ruining your life over it.'

'His life is ruined already, if he's to be banished,' Ferdi said. He felt sick. He had precipitated this whole mess. If only he had thought things through... His head was beginning to ache again, and he rubbed at his temple impatiently.

'Must Pippin and Ev'ard really be banished to satisfy custom?' Tolly demanded. ' Where's the justice in that?'

'If they had acted in malice, there would be no alternative.' Merry was thinking out loud.

'But they did not, and so -?' Tolly said. He could tell Ferdi's head was bothering him again. He might well be getting too muddled to follow this through, so it fell to Tolly. He chewed his lip nervously; he wasn't used to arguing or volleying words, but he had to pursue any justice that might be dredged from this shambles.

Suddenly Pippin laughed and said incongruously, 'And we thought it was all about gold to begin with!'

'So there is an alternative?' Tolly said, his voice tart. ‘What?’ he demanded.

'Restitution,' Merry said. 'If I were judging this case, I would rule that Ev'ard and Pippin between them must pay your debt, for starters, since they suspected you of conspiring in order to clear the debt.'

'Pay my debt?' Tolly echoed in amazement. 'For starters?'

'Furthermore, you and Ferdi would be entitled to half of Everard's holdings, as well as half of... Pippin's.' There was a stunned silence.

'Half of the Thain's holdings?' Tolly said, unbelieving. He met Ferdi's dazed look. 'Half?' He shook his head, shocked beyond words.

'According to tradition,' Merry nodded. 'That would be the penalty.'

Rosemary had been moving quietly in the background. She came forward now, a teapot in each hand, and set them on the table. Parsley followed with a tray of mugs, and Rosemary returned with the cream and honey. They began pouring tea from the pots and sliding them down the table to the hobbits seated there.

Reginard cleared his throat. 'You said, “if” you were judging this case. You will have to judge it, Merry; there is no one else qualified but the Mayor, and he's away off in Hobbiton.'

Merry ran his fingers through his hair. It was true; there was no one else at hand. He remembered his rush to judgment in the morning and quailed. 'I cannot.' His voice was a groan. 'Send for the Mayor; I cannot judge this case.'

'No, Merry.' Reginard was firm, but he took a spoon and stirred honey and cream into the untouched mug at Merry's place. 'Here, drink up. We have to think of the good of the Shire. It would be madness to banish Pippin; he's the best Thain we've had in a hundred years. And there'll be gossip enough about this day's doings, between the Smials and the Hall, and all the inns along the route, with your express riders. Idle talk does none of us any good; it would only make it worse, dragging the Mayor into it. You will have to judge this case, but we will hold you to justice. That is what you fear, I think, that you cannot be fair where Pippin is concerned.'

Merry nodded, but Pippin said sharply, 'Are you implying that the Mayor would spread gossip, Regi?'

Regi looked surprised. 'The Mayor? No. Though he may have started as gardener, he has proven himself by now! But folk would see him coming out to Woody End, posthaste, and you and the Master here as well - you can't deny it looks odd, Pippin, and tongues would wag. We'd fill the Shire with speculation and fear, and no good to anyone, even though the full story never got out. Keep it here, I say, and we will see justice done.'

'Very well,' Merry said. 'If Pippin and Everard are content with this--' He looked from one to the other, and they nodded.

'Restitution, then,' said Regi. 'I can see where such a penalty would discourage false accusations, even if hobbits were inclined to malice.'

'It is not well-known, but there is precedent, and those who study to hear cases know about it,' Merry confirmed.

Pippin nodded. 'It looks as if you two are going to be quite rich.' He eyed Ferdi and Tolly. 'What will you do with your gold? Retire somewhere, start over, make a new life? I can't say I'd blame you.'

'Who said we'd take your gold?' Ferdi asked, sounding almost angry. 'We don't need it.'

'Well, I could use just a bit,' Tolly said diffidently. 'Not half the Thain's hoard, nor even half of Ev'ard's. And I have been paying off my debts already, a little at a time.'

'Then at the very least, your debts shall be cleared,' Merry said, staring Tolly to silence.

'Where do you plan to go, Ferdi, so that I may tell Nell? She'll join you, of course,' Pippin said.

'I'm not going anywhere!' Ferdi said then reconsidered his words. 'Well I am going back to the Smials, I mean; I'm not staying here in Woody End.'

Pippin was staggered. 'I don't understand. You'd go back to the Smials - you mean, as if nothing's happened? You'll take up where you left off?'

Ferdi quit rubbing his head and sat up a little straighter. 'Of course,' he said. He sipped his tea, inhaling the steam. The fragrance was reviving his strength, and his headache eased a little.

'I don't understand,' Pippin repeated, unable to credit what he was hearing.

'What is there to understand?' Ferdi was trying not to sound irritated. This was his Thain he was addressing, though at the moment he sounded more like the child Pippin with his maddening strings of questions.

'You mean to continue serving under me, when I so nearly... when I...'

'Pip, you're young, yet,' Ferdi said. 'You've been a farmer's son, and then for a short while you were the Thain's son, and now you're Thain. I don't expect you to understand this, for it involves swearing an oath, and I don't know that you've ever had to do such a thing...'

'He swore an oath as Thain, to serve and uphold the good of the People,' Reginard reminded him.

'Ah, that's right,' Ferdi said. 'But I don't know how seriously he would take that,' he answered Reginard, and turned back to Pippin. 'An oath is not mere words, cousin, spoken for reasons of ceremony and tradition.'

Pippin stared at him without speaking. He had knelt at Denethor's feet and laid his sword across the Steward's knees, swearing fealty, on a dark day in the White City, when the world had seemed about to end. His first oath, that had been, and he had kept it, he thought. He had sworn again, here in the Shire, to serve his people. Ferdibrand might not think so, but he was keeping this oath as well, as best he could.

'I swore to defend the Thain and his family,' Ferdi went on, 'in the time of Thain Paladin, that was, and I am bound by that oath. None may release me from it but the Thain, or death.' He paused, looking inward a moment, then added, 'Of course, I do not know if you understand how serious and binding a thing that is.'

Pippin had lost all colour and seemed scarcely to breathe. ''I know how binding it is,' he said in a choked voice. 'My oath as Thain governs my every word and action; my very thoughts turn on the oath I swore to the People.'

'Good,' Ferdi said. 'That is how it ought to be.'

Pippin rose abruptly. He stepped over to stand behind Ferdi and Tolly where they sat at the table, and suddenly he went down on his knees.

They turned in consternation to gape at him kneeling on the bare floorboards, his head bowed. The other Tooks rose from their seats, staring in shock at the sight of the Thain... kneeling before those sworn to serve him.

'Pippin?' Ferdi said, his breath failing him.

Pippin looked up into their faces. 'I would swear my own oath of loyalty, to you who have served me so faithfully. I confess I have taken your loyalty for granted, and I have used you very badly.' He took several shallow breaths and said, 'I swear now, before these witnesses, to be as loyal to you, as you have proven yourselves to me.'

There was a slight noise from the bedroom doorway, and Pippin looked over to see Faramir standing there, seemingly frozen by the sight of his father on his knees to his escort. Pippin's eyes met the eyes of his son, and he added in his heart, You, too, Farry. I have not been the father I should have been, but I will be. I swear I will be.

Then Rosemary was bending over the lad, touching his forehead, looking into his eyes. 'Farry, what are you doing out of bed? Did we waken you with our talking?'

'No, I just couldn't sleep any more. Please, may I get up now?'

'Of course, dear. Go on in with the other children; tell them they can stop studying now, it's playtime. You stay inside, mind!' She went into the bedroom to make up the bed again, and Farry turned to go in with the other children. But at the door he looked back over his shoulder, wide-eyed, to see his father getting up from his knees, shaking hands with Ferdi and the others.