Chapter 7. How to Form an Effective Conspiracy

Tolly emerged into his family’s sitting room just before six o’ the clock, stopped short, and blinked to see Rusty, who served both his and Ferdi’s families, setting down the cosied teapot. Meadowsweet, close on his heels, ran into him. She brought down her hands from her head, where she’d been tucking her curls into a net, and gave him a push. Of course, since he was so much taller and broader than his diminutive wife, the effect was something like a coney pushing against a rock. ‘Tolly! Don’t just stand there...’

‘Are we early? Or are you belated?’ Tolly said, for on a typical day, he would have found early breakfast already laid out and waiting, and Rusty would be gone, performing the same honours in Ferdibrand and Pimpernel’s suite. 

Though the two families could have afforded multiple servants since the unbelievable windfall that had befallen Ferdi and Tolly a year or so ago, the two archers and their wives preferred to keep to the way things had always been before their newfound wealth had, more or less, been forced upon them.

‘Beg pardon, Sir, Mistress,’ Rusty said, as always on his dignity. ‘Master Ferdibrand and Mistress Pimpernel, they et earlier.’

‘Earlier!’ Meadowsweet said, pushing past her unmoving mountain of a husband. ‘What’re they doing eating earlier!’

Rusty did not seem to have an answer to her query, but addressed the head of escort instead. ‘Master Ferdibrand sends his compliments, Sir, and requests that you escort the Thain to the study in his place.’

‘Did the Thain send him—?’ Tolly began.

‘He had an errand,’ Rusty interrupted smoothly. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Sir and Mistress...’ And since, on a typical day, he’d already have been gone after laying out breakfast, there seemed no good reason to detain him.

Best of all, the distraction Rusty provided by lingering in the sitting room long enough to engage Tolly and Meadowsweet in conversation allowed their eldest son, Gorbibold, to exit into the corridor from the bathing room shared by the two apartments without anyone taking notice.

Tolly quickly put away several bread-rolls smeared with soft cheese (and one sporting butter and jam), washing them down with a cup of tea, for if he was to escort Pippin this morning, he must be on the spot just as soon as the healers finished their morning ministrations with the Thain, and preferably before. It was never a good idea to keep the Thain waiting.

Meadowsweet tried to talk to him (‘What kind of errand would Ferdi be about at this time o’ the day?’) but, mouth full, Tolly simply shook his head. He downed the last of his tea, swiped his mouth with his serviette, and threw it on the table. ‘I’m sure we’ll find out all about it later.’

When he joined the Steward in the small, private sitting room of the Thain’s quarters, he met Regi’s questioning look with a shrug. ‘I was asked to stand in for Ferdi,’ he said.

‘Is the hobbit taken ill?’ Regi asked in honest concern, for Ferdi’s head, after the most recent encounter with a ruffian’s club, still bothered him at times, especially when the weather was changing.

‘He’s well enough,’ Tolly said, and it was truth, wasn’t it? For if the hobbit weren’t well, he wouldn’t be out on some errand or other at the crack of dawn.

Woodruff, head healer in the Smials, entered from the private quarters and beckoned. ‘Good morning, Regi, Tolibold. He’s ready for you now.’

Nodding and murmuring their good mornings in return, the two moved to the Thain’s bedroom and helped Pippin to stand up. ‘What’s your pleasure this morning?’ the Steward said, affecting a jolly tone. ‘Pony-back or shanks-nag?’

‘Let us give the ponies a rest this day!’ Pippin answered in a similar vein. ‘Turn them out to pasture to have a good roll and graze on the cool green grass of Springtide!’

The Steward nodded and took up the Thain’s heavy walking stick from its resting place, handing it to Pippin with a bow. Then he and Tolly shadowed the Thain, close on either side to catch him should his bad leg collapse under him in order to prevent a spill, as Pippin shuffled slowly through the Thain’s apartments to the corridor. They paused for a moment to let him catch his breath, and then proceeded onward, stopping several times along the long passage from the innermost to the outermost regions of the Great Smials.

On reaching the study at last, Tolly moved ahead of the others to open the door for the Thain... and stopped in surprise and, to be honest, consternation.

For his eldest son, Gorbi, was sitting at Ferdi’s desk! More accurately, Tolly caught sight of him rising from the chair, prompted by the door’s opening, and standing at attention.

‘Gorbi!’ he gasped. ‘What’re you—?’

But the Steward’s dry tones, sounding behind him, interrupted his query. ‘Are you going to allow the Thain to enter his own study, or is there some problem that requires him to take his stand out here on one leg, as if he were a stork?’

Apologising profusely, Tolly moved aside and allowed Regi to escort Pippin the rest of the way to the ornately carved desk that had served many Thains before his time. Meanwhile, Tolly crossed the study and took Gorbi by the arm. ‘What is it, that’s going on between those ears of yours?’ he hissed, then turned to the Thain, who had taken out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat of exertion from his brow. ‘I’m that sorry, Sir, I don’t know...’

Pippin folded the handkerchief again and restored it to his pocket. ‘No harm done,’ he said mildly. ‘Especially as I was informed that Ferdi had an errand, this morning, so his chair is going wanting as it is...’

‘None of your nonsense now, then,’ Regi said to the Thain, adding under his breath, ‘Surely it’s too early in the morning for that.’

Pippin only laughed and slapped the hovering Steward on the arm. ‘It’s never too early for a good spot of nonsense!’ he countered. ‘Starts the day off on a good footing, I should say!’ 

Regi took the hint and moved to his own desk.

Tolly pulled at Gorbi’s arm again, intending to escort him out from behind Ferdi’s desk and on out the door. He intended to have a word with his erring tween as soon as they had the privacy that the heavy door would afford once he pulled it shut. Tweenish pranks were all well and good – and to be expected – but certainly not in the Thain’s study!

But Gorbi shook off his father’s grasp with a whispered apology. ‘I’m sorry, Da.’

The tween wasn’t apologising for being in the study and sitting in a chair behind a desk where serious business was conducted, as it turned out, for he took a deep breath, seemed to gather his courage, and lifted his chin to address the Thain directly. ‘Thain Peregrin, I need to have a word with you.’ Pippin glanced at Tolly and back at the tween; his good-natured look vanished and his eyes narrowed as young Gorbi added an emphatically-spoken, ‘Privately.’   

‘Sir, I—’ Tolly said desperately, but then he stopped, at a complete loss. He really had no idea how to proceed in the face of this complete breach of etiquette on his son’s part.

But Thain Peregrin, after a long study of the tween’s face, suddenly said, ‘Regi, I want you and Tolly to wait just outside. And close the door. I’ll send for you when we’re finished.’

When the Thain took that tone, not even the Steward was inclined to gainsay him. And so Regi got up again from his chair and walked to the door, indicating that Tolly should join him. The two stepped out into the passageway, whereupon Tolly pulled the heavy door shut.

Though they could hear the murmur of voices within, the door had been designed to defy the efforts of eavesdroppers, and so the conversation between the Thain and the tween remained a mystery, even as it stretched on.

*** 

Inside the Thain’s study, Pippin eyed the tween thoughtfully. ‘What’s this all about, Gorbi?’

The lad did not associate himself with the more mischievous circles of tweens living in the Smials and Tuckborough beyond, but then, though Gorbi’s father was now amongst the wealthiest of the Tooks living in the Smials, Tolly still styled himself as a working hobbit which, happily, had the effect of buffering his children from some of the worst of the social influences to be found in this bastion of the Tooks.

At Gorbi’s hesitation, Pippin beckoned. ‘Come closer, lad. I won’t bite. At least, not unless I feel the need to do so.’

Not even the faintest of smiles resulted from this small jest. Gorbi was, as Pippin had heard another tween remark at some point, “dead serious”. Moreover, the tween seemed frozen to the spot.

Speaking more firmly, Pippin ordered, ‘Come here. Now.’

Gorbi jerked and then nodded, made his way around Ferdi’s desk, and came to stand at attention in front of the Thain’s desk.

‘Would you like to take a chair?’ Pippin asked, deceptively polite.

The tween gulped, for he knew all too well the cold, sharp-edged steel that lay – hidden, at least at this moment – under the Thain’s mild manner. ‘I think I should stand, Sir,’ he answered.

Pippin’s eyebrows went up, and he leaned back in his chair, scrutinising the tween for a moment before saying, ‘Well then... speak your piece. You’re keeping us from the business of the day.’

‘Your son...’ Gorbi ventured, and now he had the Thain’s full attention, for Pippin sat up straight in his chair and skewered the tween with his keen glance.

‘Go on,’ the Thain said, his voice ominously quiet. For Gorbi’s presence in the study – the tween slipping in and waiting for him to arrive, and then asking to speak privately – none of it portended something good.

The tween dropped his eyes to his toes, drew a deep breath, and looked up again, courageously meeting the Thain’s stern glare. ‘Your son,’ he began again, ‘asked for our help.’

‘Our?’

Gorbi cleared his throat. ‘Rudi, and me,’ he said, and clarified, ‘Rudivar,’ naming Ferdi’s eldest son.

‘Does this have something to do with Ferdi’s “errand”?’ Pippin asked.

Gorbi took another deep breath, seemed to steel himself, and then said harshly, ‘If you would allow me to speak, Sir?’

‘Speak then,’ Pippin said, but his eyes flashed a warning. The tween nodded and his hands clenched at his sides before he could force them to relax again. From dire experience, Gorbi (and Rudi, of course) knew that the Thain was at his most dangerous when he inferred that some danger threatened his children, especially Faramir, who’d known real peril in his short life.

‘Farry confided in us,’ Gorbi ploughed on, ‘and we agreed,’ he said, ‘in part because the healers will not allow a tween to be put on water rations the same as an adult would.’ He raised his chin and quoted from memory the lessons drilled into all who served under the Thain: ‘Any hobbit found in neglect of his duties will take no food for the space of a day. Hobbits in charge of others found in neglect will suffer thrice the penalty. Those who will not work, shall not eat.’ Ignoring the Thain’s shock, he continued. ‘Nor are tweens subject to the Ban, as far as I know, and even if we are – even a thief suffers, at most, a year-and-a-day of shunning.’

His look grew strangely stern as he finished, ‘And I’ve not heard of any tween being banished from the Shire.’ And then he blinked, and added in a lower voice, ‘But then, tweens are more inclined to foolishness than malice, or so it seems to me, as a tween myself, that is.’

‘Your point is?’ Pippin said quietly.

Gorbi met his gaze directly once more, and he stood straighter. ‘You would have banished my father, mine and Rudi’s fathers, when your son ran away, and they tried to remedy the situation.’ Did their best to prevent a scandal, he didn’t say, but Pippin seemed to hear the words anyway, for he closed his eyes, as if in pain, for a long moment before opening them again.

‘Are you telling me that Farry has run away again, and Ferdi is on his trail once more, as happened before?’ he asked at last.

‘Yes... and no,’ Gorbi replied.

‘Do not give me an elvish answer!’ Pippin snapped, his nerves stretched tight now that he knew – sort of – what this was all about.

‘That is not my intent,’ Gorbi replied, strangely calm. ‘Hear me out, and I will tell you all I know of the plan we worked out together – Farry, Rudi, and I.’

*** 

After what seemed an eternity to Tolly, but was actually less than half an hour, the murmuring within the Thain’s study stopped, and a few seconds later, Gorbi opened the study door and beckoned to the two waiting adults. ‘We’re finished,’ he said. And then he did a curious thing: he took hold of Tolly’s arm to stay the head of escort from asking the first of many questions, and looked long and earnestly into his da’s eyes, stunning both Tolly and Regi to silence with the intensity of his gaze.

And then he nodded, loosed his hold, and walked away without another word.

*** 

Author’s note: “shanks’ mare” is an old saying meaning “by foot”; its origin is said to come from the phrase “shanks-nag”, believed to be of Scottish origin. While my Tooks are more Welsh than Scottish, I admit to borrowing ideas freely from various Celtic cultures as they seem to fit.

***