Chapter 21. Sticks and Stones

’Freddy-lad? Are you awake?’ Fredegar stirred at the familiar name from his childhood. He’d fallen asleep after teatime, and was enjoying a remarkably peaceful dream, but it slipped away even as he tried to grasp at it.

’Pretty hard to answer “no” to that question,’ he said sleepily, and heard his father chuckle.

’Someone’s here to see you,’ Odovacar said.

’Hullo, Mr Freddy,’ came a familiar voice.

Fredegar opened his eyes. ‘Budgie!’ he said. ‘How did you get here?’

 Budgie laughed. ‘The usual way,’ he said cheerfully. ‘My old dad said he was a-coming to see you, and I asked to come along.’

’Did Robin come as well?’ Freddy asked. ‘The two of you are inseparable.'

’Not this trip,’ Budgie said lightly, but Freddy looked at him sharply, hearing something behind the words.

’Is he all right?’ he asked.

Budgie patted his shoulder. ‘He’s growing stronger every day, just not strong enough to make the trip here. Dad left my mum stuffing his face every hour on the hour, whether he wants to eat or not!’

’Ah,’ Freddy said. There was another reason, but they’d let that stand for the nonce, until folk decided to tell him what was what.

’Where is your dad?’ he asked.

’In the kitchen, talking with the local healer. Mrs Chubb?’

’Yes,’ Freddy said, keeping his tone light. Healers in the kitchen boded no good for him, he feared. ‘That’s the local healer. Lovely hobbit, very fond of tea.’

Odovacar chuckled, but it sounded forced.

At that moment, Frodo came in, moving directly to Freddy’s side and taking up his good hand. ‘Have they told you yet?’ he asked.

’Evidently not,’ Freddy said, looking from Odovacar to Budgie and back to Frodo.

’Son,’ Odovacar began, but seemed to have difficulty. As Frodo started to speak, he held up his hand. ‘Freddy-lad, the healers seem to think that it’s time to...’

’Go home?’ Freddy asked. It was the worst thing he could think of; he might as well get it out of the way first.

’No, not quite yet,’ Odo said, and Freddy nodded, still tense, awaiting the bad news. ‘They think it is time to re-set the bones in your right hand.’

’I see,’ Freddy said quietly. He forced himself to speak brightly. ‘Well that is a piece of news! I must be getting stronger. When do we start?’

’As soon as you are ready,’ Odo said quietly.

’The sooner the better—let us get it over with,’ Freddy said, though of course he wished he could bury himself in his covers and start the day over again, with a different conclusion.

The two healers came in, then, with Rosamunda. Rosamunda kissed her son and stood back quietly to hear the talk. Finch Smallfoot had a hug for Freddy, putting him back to look at him closely. ‘I examined you whilst you were sleeping, you know,’ he said. ‘You look even better when you’re awake! You’re alert, and there’s more life in your eyes than the last time I saw you.’

Freddy nodded, then cut to the heart of the matter. ‘So what do we do?’ he asked.

’We give you a sleeping draught, make you quite comfortable, arrange so that you will remain still whilst we work, and... you waken in the morning with your hand nicely splinted and ready to heal properly.’

’You make it sound quite simple,’ Freddy said.

’Easy as pie,’ Finch replied.

’I don’t know, I’ve never made a pie,’ Freddy said, ‘but the one time I watched it looked quite complicated.’

Finch laughed and shook his head. ‘Trust me,’ he said. ‘I’ve been a healer since before you were born.’ He looked to Anise Chubb with a twinkle in his eye. ‘I won’t speak for Mrs Chubb,’  he said, ‘but I suspect she’s been a healer for quite some time as well.’

’I’ve forgot more about healing than you’ll ever know,’ she retorted.

’That’s supposed to reassure me?’ Freddy asked, and the others laughed.

Mrs Cotton, Farmer Cotton, Samwise, and several of the Cotton sons entered the room. It was becoming a bit crowded, Freddy thought. ‘Here’s the draught,’ Mrs Cotton said, carrying a covered mug. ‘It’s been steeping a good long while.’

’Drink up, Freddy,’ Finch said, and Freddy complied. Rosamunda came forward again to say, ‘I’ll be right outside if you need me, my love.’

He nodded, accepted her kiss on his cheek, gave her a kiss in return. ‘I’ll be right here if you need me, Mother,’ he said. She smiled, though he thought it was strained, and left the room with Mrs Cotton.

’Right,’ Finch said. ‘Let’s get everyone arranged properly. Freddy, we’re going to have Young Tom sit on the bed with you and hold you in place, and...’

’No,’ Frodo said quietly, his grip on Freddy’s hand tightening.

’What was that?’ Finch said.

’I beg your pardon, Tom, but Freddy doesn’t know you well. He needs to be held by someone he trusts,’ Frodo said. ‘Odo?’

Freddy’s father shook his head. ‘I’m not sure I’m strong enough to keep him from doing himself harm,’ he said.

’How strong are you, Mr Baggins?’ Finch asked candidly, surveying the Ring-bearer from head to foot.

’Strong enough to do what must be done,’ Frodo said firmly. ‘Samwise will help me if need be; won’t you, Sam?’

’Of course, Mr Frodo,’ Sam said, though his heart quailed within him as he remembered a similar scene at Rivendell; hands holding Mr Frodo still as possible while Master Elrond dug ever deeper into the hobbit’s flesh... he swallowed hard and stood a little straighter. ‘I’ll do whatever you need me to do,’ he added.

Frodo stretched himself out on the bed next to Freddy, wrapping his arms about his cousin. ‘There we are, nice and cosy,’ he said. ‘Just like little lads; remember how we all tumbled together like pups in the big bed when Posy got married?’ There had been tangles of young Tooks and Brandybucks and Bolgers stuffed into beds, as many as would fit, for even the great house could not contain all the guests at that signature wedding, and some of the older lads ended up sleeping in the hayloft.

’I remember Bilbo kept rolling off the horsehair sofa in the best parlour and ended up sleeping on the floor,’ Freddy said sleepily. The draught was already taking effect. He heard as if through a mist Finch giving orders, felt his right arm seized gently and stretched out upon a table drawn up next to the bed, and then he fell asleep.

Mrs Cotton, out in the hallway, said softly, ‘Wouldn’t you like to come to the kitchen for a cup of tea, Mistress?’

Rosamunda shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m too great a coward to be in there watching them hurt him, but I promised I would be right outside the door if he needed me.’ She smiled at the farmer’s wife. ‘I wouldn’t mind a cup, if you wouldn’t mind bringing it to me here.’

’Very well,’ Mrs Cotton said, and bustled off to the kitchen.

Young Rose returned with the steaming cup, and lingered, hearing murmurs inside the room, a sudden silence followed by a sickening sound. Mistress Bolger swayed, and Rose took the cup from her before it could fall. ‘Do you want to come sit down, Mistress?’ she asked anxiously.

’No,’ Rosamunda said, shaking her head. Rose put the cup upon the floor and reached to steady Fredegar’s mother, and Rosamunda nodded thanks, stiffening as the murmur recommenced, followed by telltale silence...

’Hold him still!’ came from within the room, and someone else murmured, ‘The draught isn’t...’

’Steady, Freddy-lad,’ Odovacar said, tears in his eyes as he watched his son fighting, even in his sleep, the farmer’s sons who held him. ‘Steady.’

’Shall we try again later, after a stronger draught, perhaps?’ Anise Grubb said.

’I gave him as strong a draught as I dared,’ Finch answered. ‘We’ve half through already, got the bones in the hand re-set, and just have the fingers to do now. Let us keep on as we started.’

Sam looked away, feeling sick, but he caught Frodo’s gaze and it steadied him. He took a firmer grip on Freddy’s arm, as did Tom and Nibs, while Jolly held Freddy’s legs to keep him from thrashing, and Farmer Cotton held Freddy’s left arm still. Frodo kept his arms tight around his cousin, murmuring in his ear as the healers worked.

Freddy was in the Lockholes once more, an unwilling player in the Question game. Ruffians were laughing, and his hand hurt like nothing he’d ever felt before.

’How about an easy one, this time?’ Gimp said. ‘Let’s see, the rats are fond of riddles. Here’s a nice one:

’In my little hat, I dance on high.
’Small and round and smooth am I,
’But when I fall I may spring up tall!’

’Acorn,’ Freddy whispered.

’What was that, cousin?’ Frodo asked softly, but his voice was drowned out by the ruffians.

’Haw, he got that one right! Well, now, I’ve got an easy question to ask!’ It was the one they called Scar-face.

’What’s that?’ the scribe asked.

’All right, rat, pay attention. Answer me this and we shall spare the last two fingers on your hand, but give me a wrong answer and you know what’ll happen.’

’No, please,’ Freddy moaned, and Frodo held him a bit tighter.

’What’s the name of the inn by the gate in the Third Circle of Minas Tirith?’

’What?’ Freddy gasped, and the ruffians jeered.

’Everybody knows the answer to that question!’  ‘That’s too easy!’ ‘You’re going soft, Scar-face!’

’What’s the name of the inn?’ Scar-face pressed.

’No, please!’ Freddy begged. He felt pressure on his ring finger and began to scream.

’What’s the name? Time’s running out!’ the gleeful ruffian said.

’Please, no!’ Freddy cried. ‘I’ll say anything you want me to say, only please, stop, please...’

’Hold him still!’ Finch gritted, and finished his work. Wiping sweat and tears from his face, he stumbled away from the table, leaving the splinting for Anise Chubb to finish.