Chapter 6. Picking Up the Pieces

Fredegar felt himself borne along, but he hardly noticed the motion. His eyes were fixed on the clouds, marvelling at the varying shades of grey in the sky, the cool fresh-smelling breeze, the feel of the misty rain on his face, the sound of hobbit voices speaking hopefully, or weeping, or singing, or doing all at the same time.

His mother clung to his left hand as they walked along, talking to him, but the words meant nothing, being mere soothing noises falling upon his ears. He rested in a blissful state of being, without thinking or wondering or wanting.

This came to an end when they reached the Town Hole. As the stretcher-bearers crossed the threshold he stiffened, seeing the sky disappear from view, hidden by the roof of a tunnel. So soon! They were taking him back so soon, and he’d never again see the sky, nor feel the cool rain. Tears sprang to his eyes, but the hobbits around him didn’t understand. They spoke meaningless words of comfort, and he closed his eyes to retreat to that place where the ruffians could not reach, where the blows no longer hurt and the jeers no longer rang in his ears.

The Meeting Hall in the Town Hole was soon crowded with survivors and their relatives and friends. The Travellers had gone around to check on all the released hobbits and ended back with the Bridgefields group, helping with their care, talking and listening. Healers moved quietly through the room, repeating the same advice over again to each new group.

‘They’ll need careful feeding the first days,’ said Finch Smallfoot, a healer who’d come all the way from Bridgefields to find his son Budgie and nephew Robin.

’I was telling them, Dad,’ Budgie said, sipping at a restorative cup of tea. It was real tea, properly brewed. The townsfolk had breached the storage tunnels and found much of the food “gathered” by the ruffians still there. That was a relief, for Frodo had feared that Saruman had shipped enough of the Shire’s life-blood to the South to cause hunger in the Shire until the next harvest. It was nice to know the wizard’s ill effects would not linger.

Five litters were laid out in a row, all members of the Bridgefields band, and the rest of the rebels gathered round with their relatives, anxious about their fellows. Freddy and Robin seemed to be the worst off. Stonecrop was too weak to walk, but lucid, and Beechnut and Rory were positively chipper, though the healer shook his head gravely when he examined them.

’I don’t know how you survived such treatment,’ he said. ‘Starved and beaten as you were...’

’I am well,’ Rory insisted. ‘They served Mr Freddy and Robin the biggest helpings,’ he said.

’They had the bad luck to be in the cells nearest the entrance,’ Beechnut said bleakly, his fingers tightening on his sister’s hand. ‘Whenever the ruffians were in a foul humour, they’d ease their anger on the nearest hobbit.’

’I gave Mr Freddy his worst beating,’ Rocky said, burying his face in his hands.

’I don’t understand,’ Odovacar said slowly.

Rocky was unable to continue, so Budgie helped him. ‘The worst punishment the ruffians knew was to beat someone else.’ He saw that his listeners did not understand, and struggled to explain. ‘If I were to forget and say Rocky’s name, they’d beat Rocky for having his name said, not just me. A part of my punishment would be to listen to his beating. If I were to set foot over the threshold to my cell, the hobbits to either side of me would be beaten.’

Rocky began to weep. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said through his hands, ‘so sorry.’

Budgie rested a hand on his shoulder in silent sympathy.

Healer Finch was slowly unwrapping the bindings around Freddy’s right hand. He sucked in his breath at the sight of the twisted, broken fingers. ‘What in the name of all that’s good...?’ he breathed.

’Another one of the ruffians’ games,’ Beechnut said shortly.

’Games?’ Frodo asked. Merry looked to Pippin; both remembered their time amongst the orcs. Thankfully the creatures had been so pressed for speed that there had been little time for games, but how they had talked, how they had promised, how the orcs had eagerly anticipated what was in store for the hobbits after reaching Isengard...

’That was the Question Game,’ Rocky said softly, bringing his hands down, his cheeks wet with tears. ‘They asked the questions, you answered. For every wrong answer, it was a broken finger, or a blow, or a burn.’ He looked down at the line of burn marks on his own arm and shuddered.

’We heard the wizard tell his Men that they were free to amuse themselves, so long as the prisoners remained alive and intact,’ Budgie elaborated when it was clear that Rocky could not go on.

’Intact?’ Healer Finch asked.

’They couldn’t cut parts off,’ Pippin muttered. Saruman’s orcs had received similar instructions regarding the Halflings they captured at Parth Galen. Merry made an abrupt movement, but Frodo quelled him with a hand on his arm.

’Fewer than half the hobbits we released bear such marks,’ Frodo said. ‘Why were some so served, singled out as it were?’

’They were the rebels; the ones who secretly defied the ruffians, who raided their storeholes to bring food to the hungry, who set traps for them, who...’ Stony said, breaking off as the healer who was examining him touched a particularly painful spot.

’Hobbits in the Lockholes for uncivil speech or the like were left alone,’ Budgie said, ‘unless they broke one of the rules.’

’They didn’t do that very often,’ Stony added.

’No,’ Budgie agreed. ‘They were quiet as mice in their little holes, never stepped out of their cells, never spoke, ate their meagre portions like good little rats.’

’Every so often one of them would be released, to go out into the Shire and tell the Shirefolk what happened to rebels,’ Rocky said. ‘The wizard gave his Men free rein with us rebels, but they were not allowed to harm the others. Those hobbits had to be able to travel about, after release, and spread the news, after all.’

’It made for better co-operation,’ Budgie said bitterly. ‘Who in their right mind would rise up against the ruffians, knowing what was in store for them?’

’Pippin,’ Merry said now. ‘Come away.’ Pippin protested, but Merry fixed his younger cousin with his “no-nonsense” look, and Frodo, after sharing a long glance with Merry, unexpectedly agreed.

’Go on, Pip,’ he said. Pippin looked at him quizzically, then allowed himself to be led away, after bending to murmur words of farewell to Freddy.

‘They’ll have to be re-broken, and reset,’ Finch said to Freddy’s parents, finishing his examination of Freddy’s fingers. Odovacar nodded soberly, while Rosamunda swallowed hard and put her hand to her mouth.

Supper would be arriving soon, and Healer Finch returned to the subject of eating. ‘In the old records, there are stories of hobbits who foundered when they began to eat again after a starving time,’ he warned. ‘You must start out gradually... light meals, but often.’

‘You fill up a waggon too full, the brakes won’t hold going down the hill,’ Stonecrop said. He’d been a carter before the Troubles started. ‘You have to take small loads, you have to make several trips, but at least you get down safely.’

’What’s that supposed to mean?’ Rocky snapped.

’Just what it sounds like,’ Stony said cheerily, happy to have prodded Rocky out of his grief for the nonce.

Roaring fires had been built in the hearths on each side of the great hall, the room was warming, and large kettles of water were heating. Soon steaming buckets were being carried round, with soft cloths, and soap, and clean clothes donated by townsfolk. The freed hobbits’ filthy, tattered clothing was carefully removed and carried off, the battered bodies were gently washed, their wounds dressed, and then they were clad afresh, to their great comfort

’I feel a whole new hobbit now,’ Stony said weakly to his wife.

’You smell a whole new hobbit now,’ she retorted with a smile, though she felt like bursting into tears. She’d counted each rib and each knob on his spine as she’d washed him, and the marks of whip, club, and torch told a grim story to her loving eyes.

’A good supper would not go amiss,’ a shiny-clean Budgie said to his dad, ‘and after that, a pipe, and a nap, I think.’

‘I think we can manage that,’ Finch said. ‘Here comes supper now.’ He pointed to a procession of hobbit mums and tweens, all bearing small covered kettles, and soon savoury smells filled the Meeting Hall as the food was dished out.

’Broth!’ Budgie said in outrage, being handed his portion. ‘I’ve had enough of that to last me all the rest of my days!’

‘Broth for starters,’ Finch said firmly.

’It bears no resemblance to what we had in the Lockholes, I’m glad to say,’ Beechnut said, sipping at his cup. ‘And I’m told we may have as much as we like!’

Budgie sipped at his own mugful. His eyebrows went up at the rich taste. He’d nearly forgotten what real food was like. ‘No more dishwater for this hobbit!’ he said stoutly, holding out his mug for more. It was quickly filled, and he settled back, cupping his hands around the mug, savouring the warmth both inside and outside himself.

Even Freddy and Robin were roused long enough to take several sips of broth. It was a promising start.

***

Outside the Town Hole, Pippin was arguing with Merry. ‘Why are you being the protective older cousin all of a sudden?’ he demanded.

’Your father wanted you to return to the Great Smials when we finished here,’ Merry said evenly.

’Are we finished?’ Pippin said, challenge in his tone.

’You are,’ Merry said firmly. He held up his hand as Pippin started to protest. ‘You’ve seen enough, Pip. I’ve seen enough, for that matter.’

’But you’re going back,’ Pippin said. Merry did not bother to answer this. ‘Pip, you’ve seen enough,’ he repeated soberly. ‘It is time to go home, put this behind, start to take up life as a hobbit again.’

‘Take up my knitting by the fire?’ Pippin said, curling his lip. ‘Did you forget, we have to make sure all the ruffians are rousted out of the Shire?’

’There is that,’ Merry conceded.

’Do you expect to sweep all this...’ and Pippin gestured back towards the Town Hole, ‘...under the rug? Act as if it never happened?’ He was trembling with outrage.

Merry put a hand on his arm, but he shook it off. ‘Pip,’ Merry said. ‘The histories will say that hobbits suffered. Isn’t that enough? Do people really need to read all the gory details, fill their mind with such thoughts?’ Pippin stood tense, not meeting his gaze, but Merry could tell his young cousin was listening.

’Elrond had a long talk with me, before we left Rivendell to return home,’ Merry said quietly. ‘Do you want to know what he said? He’s a very wise elf, you know; he’s lived for thousands of years, scores of hobbit lifetimes. Do you want to hear his advice?’

’You’re going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not,’ Pippin muttered.

Merry smiled. ‘That’s right, I am,’ he said. ‘So hear me, and hear me well, cousin.’

’I’m listening,’ Pippin said, finally meeting his eyes.

’He said that much of the goodness and innocence of Hobbits is that they dwell in goodness and innocence.’ Pippin snorted at this; it sounded rather simple-minded to him. This was “great elf-wisdom”?. Merry put up a hand. ‘Hear me out. Hobbits choose to live in peace, to fill their heads with mundane and everyday thoughts, to dwell on the pleasant things of life, even in the midst of sickness and sorrow.’

Pippin nodded. It was the Hobbit way to make light of heavy circumstances. ’Ignorance is bliss,’ he muttered.

’In a sense. For years we’ve been protected, we know this now, though the average hobbit doesn’t. Rangers and elves have guarded the Bounds, keeping evil things out, for the most part.’

‘Until recently,’ Pippin said. Merry nodded, conceding the fact.

’Until recently,’ he agreed, ‘but the guards are being set in place once more. However, there is a very real danger that the Shirefolk will be poisoned by the attitudes of Men, infected, as it were, and our goodness lost.’

’Is Elrond concerned with cultivating the next Ring-bearer?’ Pippin said bitterly.

’Pip!’ Merry said sharply, and the younger cousin took a deep breath.

’How are you going to keep this a secret?’ Pippin asked, gesturing again to the Town Hole. ‘How are you going to get hobbits to forget -- o so conveniently! -- the beatings and the hangings?’

’They won’t talk about it,’ Merry said. ‘If we leave it alone, you know the talk will return to the common, everyday things of life in the Shire. The histories will be written, and they will be intentionally vague. We can allow knowledge of what happened, lest it be allowed to happen again, without filling the minds of hobbits with things better left unsaid.’

’You’re saying...’ Pippin said.

’Hobbits who never saw a hanging will never learn the meaning of the word,’ Merry said firmly. ‘Hobbits who never felt the whips and burns of the torturers will not be able to imagine such things. The Shire will go on as it always has, Pip.’

’Will it?’ Pippin challenged.

’We shall see to it, Frodo will, you, when you become Thain, and myself. There will be a Shire, Pippin. We shall not allow it to be destroyed by allowing hobbits to take in the evil that is in the hearts of Men.’

Pippin opened his mouth to argue further, but Merry shook his head. ‘Go, Pippin,’ he said. ‘You have work to do in Tookland.’

’But—‘ Pippin said.

’Go!’ Merry said, and his tone brooked no contradiction. Pippin stood firm a moment longer, then turned to go.

’Pip,’ Merry said, and he looked back, only to be drawn into a hug. Merry had come close to losing his younger cousin too many times to let him go with an angry word now.

’Go with grace, cousin,’ Merry murmured, and released him.

Pippin nodded. They weren’t finished discussing this yet, but he’d go. ‘And you,’ he replied, and went to find his pony.