Warning: This chapter contains material of a violent and graphic nature. If such disturbs you, all you need to know is that Esmeralda, Diamond, and finally Estella, clarify the treatment of Orcs of their captives, according to Diamond's understanding from having overheard Pippin's nightmares over the years.
Chapter 5. Supper Preparations
It was a council of war, of sorts. To all appearances, the staid and proper Mistress of Buckland—though there was invariably a twinkle in her eye and the soft lilt of Tookland in her voice—was pouring out tea for her nephew’s wife while they waited for the serving of an intimate supper in the Master’s apartments. The servants had been dismissed and the door shut completely, not left ajar, which meant that anyone wishing to enter must knock and await invitation. Merry was sitting with Pippin for the nonce.
‘Now my dear,’ Esmeralda said, placing the teacup before Diamond and proceeding to fill her own cup. ‘I know from years of experience that my nephew, when he could be compelled to stay in the bed long enough to fall asleep, would talk in his sleep—hold complete conversations, tell long stories and the like.’ She fixed Diamond with a sharp glance and was rewarded by the latter’s firm attention on the stirring of her tea.
‘Diamond,’ Esmeralda said, her voice sinking to a conspiratorial hiss. ‘I know.’
Diamond took a few shallow breaths before she looked up. ‘What do you know?’ she tried to say steadily.
‘I’ve sat with young Peregrin, and I’ve heard what he’s had to say,’ Esmeralda said, glancing at the door to make sure it was firmly shut. ‘It’s not only for his sake I’m asking,’ she went on, and a pleading note entered her voice. ‘My Merry-lad has been as one haunted ever since they returned from the Old Forest, scarcely eating, not sleeping, startling like a wild creature at the snapping of a branch in the woods... I want to know...’
She placed a hand on Diamond’s arm. ‘I want to know exactly what Peregrin meant when he spoke about “supper preparations”. Estella said Merry turned white, hearing the head cook use the phrase this morning when she was discussing menus with the kitchen staff, and Saradoc—’
Diamond’s bright put-on smile faded and a look of anxiety took its place. ‘Auntie Ally,’ she began, and stopped.
‘I must know,’ Esmeralda said. ‘I must, if Estella and I are to fight it. You are able to calm your husband; you know what is in his mind for he speaks to you all unknowing what he would never say in a waking moment.’
‘It is too horrifying,’ Diamond whispered.
Esmeralda tightened her hold on Diamond’s arm. ‘I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t know how strong you are,’ she said. ‘I saw you, when the stables burned, working alongside the healers, cutting away clothing, picking char out of the burns, binding up the wounds. I saw how you brought Peregrin through, by strength of will alone it seemed.’
‘But...’ Diamond said.
‘Do not fear for me,’ Esmeralda said firmly. ‘I’ve faced all sorts of fears. Being Mistress of Buckland is no tray of teacakes.’
When Diamond still hesitated, Esmeralda pressed. ‘Please, my dear. It’s my son’s life I’m fighting for.’
‘Supper preparations,’ Diamond said faintly, and Esmeralda released her hold and sat back, picking up her teacup and taking a firm swig.
‘The Orcs have certain... practices...’ Diamond went on. ‘When they’ve had a successful hunt, and they have time to do things properly...’
‘Time for sport,’ Esmeralda put in. ‘That’s what young Peregrin said.’
‘First they make sure their... meat... is thoroughly bruised,’ Diamond said, taking refuge in talking as if the subject were something distant. “Meat” could be anything: mutton, beef, chicken, quail, venison...
‘Thoroughly bruised,’ Esmeralda said matter-of-factly, suppressing a shiver. ‘Not just for the sake of torment then?’
‘Not at all,’ Diamond said, ‘although torment is a pleasant pastime for the creatures, it seems. No, they bruise their meat, much as Cook uses a mallet to tenderise a cut of meat. Beating it to break up the muscle fibres. The Orcs think that when the blood rises to the surface, it brings tenderness and flavour with it.’
‘Ah,’ Esmeralda said as if she were listening to the head cook expound upon a new recipe to be served in the great room that evening.
Diamond took a deep breath and went on. ‘Once the roast is properly tenderised, the next step is to prepare it for roasting. Of course, the skin—uncooked—is considered a great delicacy, and there is the added benefit of torment...’
Esmeralda swallowed down sickness, her fingers tightening on the handle of her teacup as Diamond continued the lecture. She’d known from the nightmare that she’d overheard that it would be unbelievably ghastly, but she couldn’t help breaking in with an exclamation of horror as the picture Diamond was weaving unfolded before her eyes. ‘They skin them alive?’
‘Roast them alive as well, over a low fire, in order to keep them alive so long as possible. Fear and pain infuse a great deal of flavour into the meat, or so the Orcs like to boast.’
Esmeralda gave a shuddering sigh.
Diamond went on, her eyes looking at nothing. ‘Of course the sort of meat the Orcs prefer won’t sit still for such treatment, and it is a matter of some pride to pull the skin off in sheets as large as possible rather than small bits,’ she recited, as if it were a lecture she’d heard over and again until she had it by heart. ‘And so they have a way of making them keep still.’
‘I can only imagine,’ Esmeralda muttered, but Diamond continued as if she heard not.
‘They prick a vein with the tip of a knife and sip until they’ve let enough blood—not so much as would harm the roast, of course, for they wish to have life in the meat just so long as possible, but enough to keep it relatively still for the skinning, until it is ready to be wired to a spit and hoisted over the coals.’
Esmeralda rose abruptly and groped her way from the room, hand held to her mouth. She was gone for some time, during which Diamond sat quite still, staring into her own private nightmare, until the babe kicked within to recall her to life and love once more. When Esmeralda returned, wiping at her face with a dampened cloth, her niece was stroking her belly and murmuring sweet nothings.
The older hobbit resumed her seat. ‘A little sip,’ she murmured, ‘ “We don’t have to drink him dry.” ’
Diamond looked up. ‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘That is what he always says when he has that particular nightmare. Evidently when he and Merry were taken at Parth Galen the Orcs of Isengard were happy to inform them of their certain fate when their Master finished his interrogations. It was to be quite convenient, you see, for in his questioning he probably would have taken care of the tenderising already.’
‘O Diamond,’ Esmeralda whispered. ‘How ever do you bear it? I didn’t know...’
‘O but you see, Aunt,’ Diamond said, but she stopped to heave a sigh and wipe at her eyes. ‘It’s been ever so long since he’s dreamed of Orcs... until now. And Merry has been doing so very well, ever since he married Estella. It’s as if she’s his shield against the horror.’
‘But no longer,’ Esmeralda said. ‘He’s pushing her away.’
‘He’s afraid,’ Diamond said. ‘But not of the Orcs. He’s afraid of tainting her with his darkness.’
‘If she knew what was tormenting him...’
Diamond shook her head. ‘He wouldn’t tell her, any more than my Pippin would tell me. I’m only blessed because he talks in his sleep.’
‘Blessed?’ Esmeralda said, her voice cracking on the word as she threatened to dissolve in laughter—or perhaps tears. She wasn’t sure which. It wasn’t a laughing matter by any means, but sometimes you have to laugh to keep from weeping.
‘I know how to help him,’ Diamond said. ‘It has taken time to learn the right words to say, the right songs to sing, but I can soothe him into better dreams after long practice.’ She took up her cup of cooling tea and gulped it, setting down the cup with a shudder. ‘I have the weapons to fight, you see.’
‘But could Estella?’ Esmeralda said. ‘O my lass, it is so much worse than I ever imagined.’
‘Estella could,’ came from near the doorway, ‘if only because Estella must.’
Esmeralda and Diamond looked up, startled and surprised. They had been so involved in the cookery lesson that neither had heard the slow and quiet opening of the door, the whisper of Estella’s skirts as she slipped inside, the snick of the latch as she eased it shut again. She hadn't wanted to interrupt such an apparently serious conversation, but after hearing just a small part of it she'd crept quietly into the shadow of a bushy potted plant and continued to listen, biting hard on her fingers to keep from making any noise. She’d come with a question, and now stood to leave with more answers than she’d dreamed were possible, even in her worst nightmares.