Breelanders All! RPG

[Novnarwen]

Hedgar

Hedgar stood listening to everything. He had seen Miz Andreth claiming that these bandits were not as cruel as everyone had imagined. At first, Hedgar had laughed, looking at his wife, his eyes rolling.

"Bandits are bandits," he had whispered into Rosie's ear. Fippi, who had also eagerly followed the conversation, was quiet.

Every so often, Hedgar noticed though that his son looked alarmingly around. At first Hedgar assumed he was looking for Miz Andreth, but realised soon enough that his boy was a caring hobbit and was more eager to know how the other children and women were doing. "Are they going to die?" Fippi asked innocently, looking up and into his father's deep eyes.

Rosie shrugged, looking at Hedgar too, expecting him to answer the question. By this, the male hobbit felt awkward. Of course they wouldn't die, he thought at first, rubbing his head with his hand. Fippi grew inpatient and looked desperately at his father.

"Well," Hedgar muttered. "The..." he started. "The Mayor and... The others... will..." Hedgar couldn't speak properly. First of all, the question had come as a surprise, and now he didn't know what to say! Second, why was it his job to answer? He looked at Rosie, starting with a bitter look, but saw his wife's reaction and turned it into a friendly look. "Well, sonny," he said after a while. "The Mayor and the others will do the right thing," he said with determintion, not knowing if he had lied or not.

***

A few moments had passed; Fippi stood still silently by Rosie and Hedgar, watching the crowd and the Hobbits' arguments filling the air. Hedgar exchanged worried looks with Rosie, who eagerly tried to jump up and down to get a better look of what was going on. It seemed to be going rather well, or so she thought and explained to Hedgar.

"What does 'well' mean?" Hedgar asked grumpily, yawning. Rosie frowned, and explained again that it was going well, "For the children and women," she said. Hedgar didn't undersand at first, but guessed it would be going well in the manner of bringing the women and children into town, taking care of them. Fippi gave a satisfying smile, and insisted on helping when time came.

"Sure," Hedgar sorted, waving Fippi off. The father had never in his wildest dreams imagined his boy staying up so late to do other than climbing trees.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 8:54 AM February 08, 2004: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

"They're not going to die....Fippi dear.." Rosie said after a while. She seemed a bit upset and scared. The last thing to do was to scare her own son. Hedgar was about to protest, but Rosie kicked him in the leg and bit her teeth together. "The Mayor and Berilac will figure something out..." Rosie continued, looking up at Hedgar, expecting him to agree with her.

"Of course sonny...No need to worry." He said and smiled faintly. Even though his father had assured him that it would be alright Rosie could see the worried look in the eight year old's eyes. She muttered somthing about not to worry, even though she knew she couldn't convince anyone with that mumbeling tone. She straightened her back and tried to consentrate about happy thoughts.

[piosenniel]

The Farroweeds

Big Tom stood at the back of the crowd. His mutterings were loud enough that many of those around him were well aware of his thoughts on the situation. And a number of the other Big Folk men could be seen nodding their heads ‘yes’ in agreement with him.

‘First those . . . hobbits,’ he had spat out, as if they were a soured gobbet of spittle that needed getting rid of. ‘And now these rag-tag critters from the north! Want to take our land’s what I says.’ Several of the outlying farmers could be heard muttering their own ‘That’s right!’ back to him. ‘Traipsing in with their sorry spawn in tow.’ He looked about the small crowd that had gathered to hear him. ‘Make us feel sorry for them, they will. Then when we’re all cozy with the idea of them being here, the men folk’ll sneak in and slit our throats while we’re sleeping.’

Letty, standing near, opened her mouth to speak, then closed it tight in a grim line. No amount of talking would penetrate that thick skull of her husband. Will was by her side, his gaze fixed on the toes of his boots to hide the crimson that flooded his cheeks from his father’s words. ‘No need to be ashamed for that old man,’ Letty said, speaking low to her youngest son. She put her fingers underneath his chin and raised it up. ‘Those are his words and he’s the one’ll have to eat them.’

‘Now we’ve got things to do,’ she continued, gathering the rest of her sons and daughters about her. ‘Some of these folk can barely walk; much less carry their wee ones.’ She motioned her five sons to come closer. ‘You boys get down there and help the ones who need it get up to the Inn. Carry some of the littler ones so’s they don’t fall behind. Just tell Miz Lilac you’re there to help.’ She turned to her two daughters. ‘You and me are high-tailing it up to the Inn. We’ll let them know Miz Andreth is coming and to clear one of the big rooms for these folks to sit down in. Elli, you and Bettony, go into the kitchen and help cook get another kettle of soup going, and tell her we’ll need some plain broth for those as can’t yet stomach the heartier food. I’ll get some of the other women folk who live nearby to come over and help – bring some extra clothes their kids have outgrown, and a blanket, if they can spare one.’ There was a steely purpose in her eye as she glanced over to where Big Tom was still ‘holding court’.

‘Now git moving boys,’ she said pointing toward the huddle of refugees. ‘And you girls follow me . . .’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine:

Guthwine was still in a foul temper as he strode across the encampment, retreating into his tent. Kicking off his boots, he cursed Lotar and his foolhardy schemes. The man was deluding himself if he thought the Breelanders would forget about the raids on the farmhouses and extend a helping hand. Even if a miracle occurred and the Mayor erased everything in the past, the most they could expect would be a few paltry handouts and then be sent out on the road again with no permanent home. They would never make it through the winter without a place to take shelter.

If Lotar would only make an effort and mount an organized assault on the city..... Guthwine's's thoughts trailed off as he imagined what it would be like to live in a home of his own. They would finally have a place to settle where they could start a new life. Beside that enticing image, the promise of a peaceful solution seemed like so many hollow words.

Ironically, things had been going better than expected until those blasted women had shown up. Just this morning, Guthwine had urged Lotar to attack on the fourth day, and the man had reluctantly acquiesced. Yet now he was going back on his promise and proposing that they trust the Breelanders with their wives and children.

Guthwine looked up from his angry ruminations and was surprised to see his wife standing near the entrance of the tent, gasping to catch her breath. She had left early that morning with a group of women who were supposed to travel on foot to a large pond several miles distant in order to fish and gather herbs and nuts. She had taken the children with her as had many of the other mothers who had gone. The group had left in the early morning and wasn't expected back until tomorrow.

Guthwine looked over at Greta and asked in a puzzled tone, "Back so soon? I thought you and the children had gone overnight?"

His wife stared back at him saying nothing. Then she sat down on the ground, drew her legs up against her body and began to sob, while still gasping for air. Her face was as white as the snow in winter.
Guthwine rushed over and put his arms around Greta, cradling her gently against his shoulder. "What has happened? What is wrong?" He drew a jagged breath as he hastily glanced outside. His children were nowhere to be seen. "Meri? Ian? Where are they?" he demanded in a gruff tone.

Greta looked up at her husband with tears streaming down her cheeks. "Meri is fine. It is Ian. He's hurt. A hunting party was also near the pond. There was an accident.....this morning. An arrow." Her answers came in short jagged spurts as she struggled to catch her breath and spit out the words.

"He is here in camp?"

"No, back at the pond. I came to get help."

"I will go now on my horse. But first I must find a healer."

"A healer? There is no healer. They have all perished except for Kirima and she has gone to Bree."

Guthwine cursed between his teeth and ran out into the clearing, grabbing his horse and throwing himself in the saddle as he took off for the pond.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:56 AM February 07, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine:

By the time Guthwine reached the pond and returned to camp bearing his son in his arms, darkness had settled over the land. The boy lay stretched out on a blanket inside Kirima's vacant tent, the one place where their few herbal remedies were stored. Ian's skin felt warm and eerily dry to Guthwine's touch. He could see that the lad was slipping in and out of consciousness.

The accident had happened early that morning in a dense thicket near the pond. A group of hunters, also from the camp, had mistaken two of the children as deer they were tracking and shot the perilous arrow. The arrowhead and its shaft had quickly been removed from the boy's hip with the aid of a sharp dagger. Yet it had left behind a jagged wound. The women had tried to cleanse it, but they'd been compelled to use the brackish waters of the shallow, muddy pond.
By nightfall, the wound was festering, threatening to spread its poison through the boy's whole body.

The woman tending to the child looked over at Guthwine and shook her head, "I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do. I am not a healer. There are herbs that might help, but we have none of those." She stopped a mement and added, "In Bree such medicines are probably available."

"But where is Kirima?" Guthwine bellowed.

"She has gone to Bree to help tend the sick children," the woman responded.

Scowling and cursing his son's ill fate, Guthwine took a scant second to swallow his pride and make the decision to seek help in Bree. He looked up at Lotar, who had come over to see if he could help and was standing at the entrance of the tent, and spoke directly to him, "I will not have the witch women of Bree tend to my son. But Kirima I trust. Let me ride there now and seek aid for Ian."

Lotar shook his head, "What you suggest is dangerous. Send your wife instead. The Breelanders are more apt to welcome women than a bandit with a price on his head."

Guthwine bellowed back, "Confound these Breelanders! I will not place another member of my family in danger. It is enough that I go. If they put me in prison or slay me, so be it....as long as they have some pity on my son. He is but a child, just eight years old."

Lotar had gone outside to speak with Rudgar and Soran. He returned with the two men by his side and spoke directly with Guthwine, "I will not have any of my men go into danger alone. We are in this thing together. Rudgar and Soran have volunteered to come with you. They will stay in hiding and try to find out more. But if you need help, they will be there."

A fleeting memory flashed through Guthwine's mind of how he had let Soran fall wounded at the farmhouse and not gone back to aid him. Though red with embarassment, Guthwine accepted the offer of aid, and the three men set out on horses towards the hole in the hedge, with the boy wrapped tight in a blanket.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:50 PM February 07, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine:

Riding as hard as they could, Guthwine and his two companions arrived on the outskirts of Bree within a few hours. Most of the residents were asleep in their beds, the streets silent and empty. Guthwine slipped through the hole in the hedge with his son cradled in his arms. They had all agreed that Soran and Rudgar were to hide in the thick bushes at the edge of town, waiting to see what would happen. All three of the men were armed, carrying swords and daggers.

Once they had cleared the hedge and dyke, Guthwine glanced over at the others, "I'm going to the Inn. It seems like the best place to start. One of the women visiting the camp came from there."

"Leave your sword and dagger with us," Soran urged. "You'll have better luck getting them to listen."

Guthwine's eyes blazed with anger, "I'll not go in unarmed. I do not trust these Breelanders. The only thing they understand is the point of a sword. After my boy recovers, they can do with me as they please." Then Guthwine turned and headed for the Pony.

********************************************

The Common Room of the Inn had been totally cleared of tables, with cots and pallets set up in their place. Lilac was in charge of the small house of healing. Kirima, Andreth, Cook, and Letty, along with some of Letty's brood, had divided up the nursing and cooking chores under Lilac's watchful eye, preparing the herbal remedies that the healer suggested and making nourishing meals.

Gradually, the room had quieted down. Lilac had gone off to the side and laid down to sleep. Some of the children were also drowsing, while others lay awake, still too worked up or in pain. Andreth had gotten out one of her books and was reading a tale about dragons and dwarves to take their minds off their troubles.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a pounding on the door. She could hear someone yelling outside, demanding that she immediately open up. Peering out the window, she glimpsed a tall and surly man who looked to be one of the bandits, with a massive sword strapped about his waist. This angry giant carried a child in his arms. The boy's head was drooping, his limbs hanging limp and his eyes glazed over.

For a moment she hesitated wondering what to do. He did not look like someone she wanted inside the Inn. Then she heard the child softly moan. Andreth quickly reached a decision and wrenched open the door to let the pair enter.

Guthwine strode to the middle of the floor as if he owned the Inn. He approached Kirima and placed the boy securely in her arms, "Here, can you help him? An arrowhead this morning and now the wound is festering." Kirima greeted Guthwine by name and nodded her head, placing the boy onto a pallet. then awakening Lilac so they could work together. Kirima stayed on beside the boy, speaking quietly to him. All the time her hands were working, cleaning the wound and administering herbal packs. Lilac raced back and forth to the kitchens, bringing hot water and anything else that Kirima requested.

Guthwine watched these developments with dawning hope, then turned and perched his body on top of the serving counter, drawing out his sword and making a point of polishing it with a rag he found beneath the bar. It was at this point that Andreth approached him, speaking in a voice that was both gentle and firm, "Please, sir, you're frightening my staff and some of the children. Could you set aside that sword out in the hall?"

"I don't think so. I feel more comfortable with it. And if I put it down, who says what you will do with my boy?" He glared over at the Innkeeper and continued to polish the blade.

"I really would put that down," she countered.

"I don't think so. Not till my son is out of danger..."

Andreth started to open her mouth but a quick look from Lilac made her stop and think. She looked up and sighed, "Suit yourself then. Have you eaten? I can at least get you a cup of broth."

"Don't bother."

Andreth nodded, then continued to make her rounds of the room, finally sitting down to resume her story. The children, who looked more frightened than before even though Guthwine was one of their own, had huddled together near the fire. Andreth knelt down to stir the ashes in the firepit and quickly drew out a piece of burnt wood that had fallen to the side. She turned to her book, ripped out a page, and scribbled a simple note in the margin with the blackened chunk of wood: Send help - Guthwine.

Then she walked over to Lilac and stuffed the note in her apron pocket saying a single word: Berilac. Lilac wandered back to the kitchen ostensibly for more hot water and clean cloths. Once she was there, the older woman took off down the hallway to the small room where Ruby slept. She woke the serving girl and placed the note in her hand, "Take this to Berilac or the Mayor. Fast. We've an armed bandit in the Inn."

Ruby dived out the side window heading down the street to Mausi's burrow where Berilac was said to be staying the night.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 8:52 AM February 08, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Ruby’s face was pale and she was out of breath from running to Mausi’s house. Berilac could barely make out her words as she stood gasping on the porch. He took the lamp from the hallway table and stepped out onto the porch. ‘Calm down,’ he said, taking the folded note from her trembling hand. He sat her down on the step and crouched down beside her, setting the lamp between them.

‘Is this true?’ he asked the young woman. ‘That the man named Guthwine is at the Inn?’ Ruby shook her head yes. Berilac’s next words came low and even. ‘Has he hurt anyone, Ruby?’ Ruby’s wide eyes looked up at the Ranger who now stood, tucking the folded note into the waistband of his breeches. ‘No, sir. As far as I know he’s done nothing. It’s just . . . it’s just that he’s frightened us so.’ She looked down at the toes of her shoes as if they were the most interesting things in the world. ‘He does have his sword,’ she whispered afraid some bandit might hear her and jump out.’

Mausi, by this time, had roused from her bed and stood at the open door. ‘Ruby, come in and stay while Berilac sees to this person. I’ve put on the kettle. We’ll have some tea.’ Mausi came out and pulled Ruby up and into the house. As they passed down the hall to the kitchen, they passed Berilac hurrying toward the door. His sword was strapped on and his bow was in his hand, its quiver of arrows secured to his back. ‘Lock yourselves in, ladies,’ he directed them as he shut the door behind him.

He made several stops on his way toward the Inn, gathering some of the Hobbit bowmen he had recruited for the defense of the North Gate. On the way he outlined his plan for them.

When they reached the Inn he sent four of the men in through the kitchen. There were two doors on either side of the bar that abutted up against the kitchen’s wall, and they would enter there on his signal. Three others were also to enter the kitchen and take the back stairway to the servants’ quarters, then make their way to the main stairway, hiding behind the upper railings. The last two were to wait just outside the main door as he entered.

He waited until he knew the others were in place, then he entered the Inn.

~*~

Berilac was already familiar with the layout of the common room, and had gotten the information from Ruby of how Miss Andreth had laid it out for the taking care of the sick women and the children. And the best piece of news - that Andreth had not relocked the door after Guthwine had entered. The only piece of information he didn’t have was Guthwine's exact position. What he counted on was that being a father, the man would stay near his son to see no harm was done him. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door, calling out for Andreth.

The man was quick. He slipped from his seat on the bar’s top with a fluid movement , raising his sword at the sight of the armed Hobbit. Andreth looked at first pleased, then downcast as she saw that Berilac had come alone. ‘Who is this?’ Berilac asked Andreth motioning her back to her place by the children to whom she had been telling a story. She herded them away from the two, giving them into the care of one of the other women, then turned to answer. ‘This is Guthwine,’ she said, not taking her eyes off the bandit. ‘His son’s been sorely hurt, and he’s brought him here to be taken care of.’ Andreth had moved toward the boy, who lay listless on his pallet.

‘Stand back, Andreth,’ commanded Berilac, and take the others with you to the side of the room. He’d slung his bow over his shoulder prior to entering, and now he drew his sword, requesting that Guthwine lay down his weapons. The big man laughed, asking the Ranger how he thought that he and his little play sword were going to back up such a demand.

‘Just so,’ said Berilac, giving a sharp whistle. The four Hobbits in the kitchen rushed through the doors, their bows drawn tight, arrows nocked and at the ready to take down the man. Guthwine thought to do battle with him, then stopped noting the other two that had entered behind Berilac, their bows also drawn and aimed at him.

It was the last three bowman, though, that drove the point home to him that the Ranger’s request was not to be denied. The three hobbits stood ready to shoot his son, should he not comply. A strangled cry escaped the man, and his sword dropped from his hand. He started toward his son, but the Ranger called out to him to ‘stand fast’ if he valued his son’s life. One of the bowmen shoved a chair behind the man, while two of the sturdier lads sat him down roughly and bound him to it, hand and foot.

Once done, Berilac sheathed his sword and sent a man to fetch Captain Telien. They would need some of his men, he thought, to move Guthwine to the wine cellar in the basement of the Inn where he could be safely locked away. They would also need to find out where Guthwine had gotten in and secure the area.

Of greater concern to the Ranger was whether or not other of the bandit men had come in with Guthwine . . .

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:59 AM February 09, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Eruantalon]

Feeling cold winds cut through his thin rough leather jacket and pants. Rudgar warmed himself by the fire when a thought came into his head. He should go and sharpen his sword. He found out where he had to go and dropped it off. It hadn’t been sharpened since he was a boy. This was the only time he knew he might have to kill. After he got himself ready he saddled up beside Soren and Guthwine. There fast riding seemed to make a gale wind that took a hard bite in him. At the same time he didn’t even feel it. The boy seemed so ill. They had to get there as soon as they could.

They went through the break in the hedge. Guthwine went first, then Soren, and then finally he entered. Looking around at what felt like an empty city they made there way through. Then they all made there way to the inn, where the two women that had come to the camp earlier had come from. He remembered them now. They worked at this inn. Through the window you could see people moving around and taking care of children.

Touching the sharp tip of his sword he hoped it wouldn’t come to blows. Waiting in the bushes with Soren as he was commanded they looked on breathlessly. Lotar pounded on the door. He did this in his gruff and forceful manner. They finally let him in after a few moments.

The air seemed stiff and hard. All around him there was no one to see. Quietly he walked up to the window. Even though Soren had warned him not to. He still looked into it and wanted to see what was happening. His commander might need him and he would be a fool to sit and watch. Sit there while they came through the back door and attacked. Guthwine sat on the counter top. With his sword still in his hand and looking vary distrustful, polishing it with a rag that was near him.

After a few moments he could see one of them woman take paper and charcoal from the fire. She scribbled something and handed it off. “What are they doing” he wondered. “They’ll probably heal the boy while Guthwine is jailed?”

Feeling angry he almost didn’t hear people starting to make there way down the street. He rushed back to the bushes where he was met with an angry look from Soren. He would have to wait and see. If they attacked him he would bust down that door. Or better yet break open a window and go through to accompany his commander.

A man walked up to the door. Turning the handle he opened the door and rushed in. “Its not locked!’ he thought in surprise. He heard hurried movements in the inn. Getting up and rushing and opened the door. Guthwine was already sword less. It lay on the ground and he sat in the chair. A hobbit pointed an arrow at his son. It was over and he had failed. It was all too quick and done with. The man who had entered seemed surprised and aware of him. A hobbit pointed an arrow Rudgar’s way.

Oddly enough Rudgar was relieved. He didn't have to kill anyone in front of these children. Even if they where captured he still didn’t have to let them see blood shed. But what would happen to him, Soren, and Guthwine. They would all probably be jailed for long time.

Raising his sword to the hobbits face he gave him a chilled look. “If you plan on shooting and letting them see bloodshed then do as you will. This sword had been in my family for many years. I will not give it away to you or anyone here. It is my fathers and none can take it but me! Harm none and be unharmed!’

Setting his sword back into his sheaf he looked around at the children quietly crying and filled with fear. He knew he should not have done this. He had to let the hobbits and man know that he would never let this precious heirloom out of his hands.

“I’m putting it away children. No need to cry and worry. You are safe and none will hurt you.” while saying this he looked down and sheathed his sword. Strange looks had come from them all. He didn’t care he was there with Guthwine and would be jailed with him in the end if need be.

[piosenniel]

Minastan speaks with Lotar

The man had watched as the women and children filed in through the gate. ‘This is good,’ he murmured to himself, bending over to pick up the knife and sword Berilac had made him throw on the ground before they spoke. ‘His journey with the ragged group had shown him just how needy and ill the refugees were. Refugees. He rolled that word round on his tongue. A few short weeks ago and he had them all penned as ruffians, bandits, and cut-throats. Too easy to see only the negative and react to it he thought when the enemy is faceless.

He had made his observations and his thoughts clear to Berilac. The other Ranger had not seen what he had, and Minastan wanted to make sure he understood the full depth of the refugees’ problems. Berilac had been careful to listen closely, noting that even though his assessments were painted a picture of need, there was still a hint of threat in the large group. Minastan had been careful to separate the plans of Guthwine from the course that he felt Lotar wanted to take. In the end, Berilac had directed him to approach Lotar with an offer for a parlay on what could be done on both sides to avoid armed conflict.

‘We are prepared to kill them – to the last man, if need be,’ the Hobbit had said. ‘We have the force of arms and the supplies to do so. And if need be I will send out messengers to the East where other of the Rangers are. They will harry the would-be conquerors like silent wolves set on a flock of grouse.’ Minastan nodded his head in silent agreement, then spoke quietly. ‘And now you also hold hostages. Lotar will understand that. He will not want to endanger them nor will the fathers and husbands of the children and women who are now locked tight in Bree.’ Berilac had waved him off, then, as if shooing a stray dog away, while he, himself, followed the women back into Bree.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was very late at night when Minastan made it back to the camp. Just as he thought, no one was sleeping. All had been on edge since the group had left – wondering what further danger they had sent their precious families into.

A guard at the perimeter stopped him, then waved him through once he had identified himself. Picking up speed he headed directly to Lotar’s tent and found the man sitting at a small fire, now burnt down to embers, his cloak pulled around him as he stared into the glowing coals. ‘Are they safe,’ Lotar asked, his eyes turning to the figure of the advancing man. ‘They are,’ said Minastan, seating himself next to the man, talking low so that others would not hear. He paused for a moment, then delivered the other half of the answer. ‘But they will not come out until we have a resolve of this threat to Bree.’

Minastan hurried on, before Lotar could speak again. ‘The Bree leaders and the Ranger who assists them seem to be fair men. The men they lead are farmers and millers and merchants. We have pushed them too far. And now they are angry and threatened by our presence. They have retreated into the safety of their city, and like a cornered badger they will fight us tooth and nail if we attack.’

He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. ‘I spoke with the Ranger who came out to take the women and children in. I told him about you and about the things I have heard you say; how your thoughts are echoed by the majority of the men you lead. He asked if you and perhaps one other would come to the North Gate in two days time. He and the mayor will meet with you on the field beyond the dike and talk about what can be done together to solve both our problems. I am to bring back a message to let them know if and when you will come. What say you to this?’

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:03 AM February 09, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Taralphiel]

Lotar listened to the light murmurings and unease in his camp from the front of his tent. Crouched over a fire he had made, he stared into it sullenly, his thoughts ever wandering to his beloved Feanwe.

The man he had sent to Bree had broken his thoughts as he hurried his way. Lotar quickly asked 'Are they safe'

'They are' he replied 'But they will not come out until we have a resolve of this threat to Bree.’

Lotar was about to jerk up in rage, when he continued 'The Bree leaders and the Ranger who assists them seem to be fair men. The men they lead are farmers and millers and merchants. We have pushed them too far. And now they are angry and threatened by our presence. They have retreated into the safety of their city, and like a cornered badger they will fight us tooth and nail if we attack.'

Lotar quelled his anger at this. He knew in his heart this was teh risk he had to take. But if he had not accepted, the struggle for Bree would have been in vain. He kept quiet as the man finish.

'I spoke with the Ranger who came out to take the women and children in. I told him about you and about the things I have heard you say; how your thoughts are echoed by the majority of the men you lead. He asked if you and perhaps one other would come to the North Gate in two days time. He and the mayor will meet with you on the field beyond the dike and talk about what can be done together to solve both our problems. I am to bring back a message to let them know if and when you will come. What say you to this?'

Lotar took his time before he looked up from the last flickers of flame

'I suppose I have little choice in the matter. I will go, and I will have much to say when I do. They wish to drive us out with small care. I would have them tell me where else I could take ailing women and children. I too would fight tooth and nail if I were in their shoes, and I have been...'

He stood up, and stretched his weary shoulders 'But the greatest trial is yet to come: convincing an old battle horse to lay down his plans for war...'

~*~

Kandel

Kandel's footsteps moved quickly through the crowd of people towards his fathers tent. His day had been spent with the mother and sister of a childhood friend. He had lost his life when Kandel was still a child, and right before his eyes at that. Still bearing much pain, Kandel was overjoyed to find them after he had given up on ever seeing them again.

Erean and her daughter Sil had taken ill with a grave fever, leaving them barely able to walk. It was a miracle that they had made it to outside Bree. He watched as they were helped onto a cart and moved into the city.

'Well now, this change has caught me off-balance' he though inwardly 'And here I was ready to scale the defenses of Bree! I am glad sense came to all, most of all my father'


Standing by the tent, he began 'What would you have me do father?'

'We are to go to Bree and talk with the Mayor there' Lotar said

'I want ye to be there. You are better with words than I will ever be, and Ill need you to stay my temper I suspect'

'Aye, I dont doubt that' said Kandel with a smile. He stood by his father watching the camp sink into silence, and wondering what the next few days would bring.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:35 AM February 09, 2004: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Arestevana]

Kirima

The Inn’s Common Room, which normally was filled with tables, had become a temporary house of healing. Makeshift beds, in the form of cots, pallets, and blanket rolls, filled the space from wall to wall. Sick and wounded children filled nearly every bed. Led by Lilac, Kirima and several of the townswomen were busy with their duties of cooking and nursing. Kirima found that there were plenty of herbs, and Lilac could tell her which to use. Better still, there was clean water, and a few of the women were busy preparing nourishing foods, and broth for those still too weak to eat.

Settled in the midst of several cots, Kirima spooned a small amount of broth into the mouth of one child, at the same time keeping an eye on Gilly, who was sleeping nearby. She gave her charge another mouthful of broth and then told the boy to try to rest. She spent a moment checking the bandages of another lad close by, and was relieved to find that they had not yet bled through.

Moving to a corner where most of the supplies had been laid out, Kirima set to work preparing several herbal poultices in case they were needed. She saw Lilac asleep nearby, and could hear Andreth’s gentle voice as she told stories to the children. Often she paused at her work to glance around the room and see if any help was needed. As she turned to add a ladleful of hot water to the herbs she had crushed, Kirima heard someone pounding on the door of the Inn. She set the unfinished poultices aside and crossed to check the door, but Andreth arose and motioned her back to her work.

Kirima nodded thankfully and turned to go back, stopping at several pallets to make certain that their occupants were still asleep. Suddenly she recognized the voice coming from outside the Inn. She turned just in time to see Andreth open the door to admit Guthwine, carrying a child. He walked hurriedly over to her and situated the boy securely in her arms, saying, "Here, can you help him? An arrowhead this morning and now the wound is festering."

Kirima nodded. “It is good to see you, Guthwine. I will do the best I can for your son.” She moved to an empty pallet and placed the injured boy upon it. Then she hurried over to where Lilac was sleeping and gently woke her. Lilac awakened quickly, and Kirima said quietly, “Miss Lilac, I need your help. Guthwine’s son has been injured and the wound festered. Guthwine does not trust the people of Bree yet, but I’m not sure what I can do on my own.” Lilac nodded her understanding, and said that she would bring whatever was needed, and help where she could.

Kirima thanked her and hurried back to the boy’s pallet, where Guthwine still stood. She glanced worriedly at the child’s flushed face and glazed eyes, and told Lilac what she would need. Then she sat down next to the child’s bed to examine the wound. It had been bandaged poorly and the binding, though undoubtedly the cleanest that could be found, was filthy. She cut the cloth away and winced as she saw the wound. She could see where the arrow had been cut from the boy’s hip; the wound was deep, and the flesh around it was dark and had a poisonous look to it.

Lilac returned with hot water and clean bandages. Kirima thanked her and asked for several types of herbs. She took a knife and cut away the flesh where it had rotted, trying to work quickly to spare the child some of his pain. Then she gently washed the wound and wrapped it tightly in bandages. Lilac came back quickly and helped Kirima prepare a tonic to help the child sleep. Lilac helped the boy sit up slightly to drink the mixture, and then gently lowered him back onto the pallet. He still looked feverish, and Kirima placed a cool cloth on his forehead. She glanced over to where Guthwine was seated atop the serving counter, and noticed distractedly that he had drawn his sword and was polishing it. She saw Andreth talking to him, and turned to speak to Lilac. “I’m worried about the boy.” She said quietly. “The wound was deep and bleeding badly. I will not cauterize the wound if there is any other choice, but if it does not heal, we may be forced to it. Guthwine will take it very badly if Ian dies.”
Lilac smiled reassuringly and replied, “He is a child, and he will heal. When he wakes, give him food to keep his strength up, and change the bandages. The wound should heal without the help of fire.”

Kirima sighed in relief and turned to see where Guthwine had gone, so that she could tell him. To her astonishment, she saw several archers standing with arrows aimed at Guthwine, who was staring angrily at the Ranger, Berilac. Still, Guthwine looked ready to fight, when three more archers burst through the Inn’s doors and aimed their arrows at his son. “Stand fast, if you value your son’s life!” said Berilac. Kirima gasped and tried to move forward, but Lilac grabbed her wrist, quietly assuring her that the child would not be harmed. Guthwine dropped his sword with a strangled cry. The archers moved forward and bound him to a chair.

Kirima watched for a moment as the hobbit ranger sent one of the others away, no doubt to bring someone else. The archers were still holding drawn bows, watching Guthwine warily. The children who were not asleep watched the archers with wide eyes. Kirima walked around to several cots, promising the frightened children that the Breelanders meant no harm. She stopped for a moment in her circuit of the room to talk to Widow Marish, and then returned to sit next to the pallet where Ian lay, watching to see that he did not worsen. She felt almost too tired to be surprised when Rudgar burst through the door, sword drawn. He spoke angrily to the hobbits who had trained their arrows on him, but looking at the terrified children around him, said finally, “I’m putting it away children. No need to cry and worry. You are safe and none will hurt you.”

[piosenniel]

Berilac

From Berilac’s point of view, Rudgar was just as threatening as his captain. He had pointed his blade at the Ranger and then resheathed it. And now he stood there almost daring the hobbit to make his move. Berilac kept his eye on the man as he motioned his bowmen into place.

‘You cannot keep your sword, sir,’ he said quietly to the man. Rudgar made no move to lay down his weapon, resting his hand protectively on its pommel. ‘Please, let us have no bloodshed. These children have seen enough, don’t you think?’ He stepped a little closer to the man, who had a dangerous look in his eye. Rudgar’s hand now gripped the handle of the still sheathed sword tightly.

Before Berilac could say another word, there was a loud clunk and then a louder thump as Rudgar toppled forward and hit the floor with a soft groan. There, standing behind him, was Will who had sneaked up behind the man with one of the iron skillets from the kitchen and walloped him on the back of the head. Will’s face was white and he trembled as he lowered the pan to the floor.

‘He’s not dead, laddie,’ said Lilac, coming up beside the young man. ‘Just out for the while.’ She pointed to the coil of rope left over from tying up Guthwine. ‘Now fetch that rope over there and get him secured.’ Berilac nodded to Will, and bent to help him.

They were just finishing when Telien and a small contingent of his men came bursting through the door. ‘I see you’ve gotten things under control here, Berilac,’ he said. He nodded at Will who was just finishing the last knot to bind Rudgar’s wrists.

‘To a point,’ returned Berilac, grinning for a moment at Telien. ‘But we’ve reached the place where the Big Folk should take over.’ Telien raised his brows and looked down at the Hobbit.

‘Someone’s got to tote them downstairs, get them locked up,’ continued Berilac. ‘Some-ones with strong arms, long legs and strong backs.

The sound of muffled laughter from the bowmen followed the Breeland Captain and his doughty men . . .

[piosenniel]

Arestevana's post

Kirima heard Andreth resume her story telling nearby. Most of the children had drifted into a deep, healing sleep, and the few who were in too much pain or distress were resting quietly, lulled by the gentle words.

With the help given by the Breelanders, many would recover. Still, there would be a few who did not wake when morning came. Kirima glanced at Ian, his sleep feverish and restless, hoping that he would not be among them.

[Nurumaiel]

Edmund and Kali

The little squirrel was tucked inside Edmund's shirt as it usually was, chattering noisily and making scolding noises when another wild squirrel chanced to pass by. Edmund and Kali were walking side by side towards the Inn that was being used as a hospital for the sick children. Edmund had heard his mother was there, and he was anxious to talk to her.

The two children said nothing to each other, though every so often their eyes would meet and they would smile. Often Kali would reached over and stroked the furry head that popped through the spaces in between buttons on Edmund's shirt and laugh softly. Edmund was as always pleased that his squirrel made such a favorable impression on nearly everyone it met.

They entered the Inn softly when they reached it, hoping not to disturb any of the sick children. Edmund's finger touched the squirrel's forehead and gently pushed it. The head slipped back inside his shirt. "Mamma is most likely to be in the common room," Edmund murmured, not quite speaking to Kali but rather to himself. "That's where the hospital is."

As they crept into the common room, Kali drew in a sharp breath. There were beds all across the floor, and sick children in the beds, pale and moaning. Some of them were sleeping, though not a gentle easy sleep, for they were tossing and turning in their beds, crying out at various times. Others were awake and restless, the elders trying not to show their pain and the younger children groaning openly. Kali's eyes softened with pity as he gazed about him. One little girl was lying in her bed, her eyes half closed, weeping softly. Kali drew nearer to her and Edmund followed. As they reached her bed the squirrel popped his head out of Edmund's shirt and began to chatter noisily. The girl's eyes opened fully and her mouth formed a little 'o.' She looked from Edmund to Kali to the squirrel, then whimpered a bit.

Both Edmund and Kali were at a loss of what to say. They didn't know if the girl was afraid of them or simply very sick. One little hand stretched out towards the squirrel, and Edmund very gently placed his pet on her bed. The squirrel crawled up to her head and put a tiny paw on each cheek, stretching his head up to investigate her nose. Then, scolding loudly, he began running down the bed and back up again. Edmund could not suppress a chuckle, and the little girl smiled faintly. Then she turned her head away and began to cry again.

"What's wrong?" Kali questioned her, his voice low and kind.

She hesitated a moment, as if wondering whether she should talk to them or not, then replied, "I want Mamma." Her eyes opened wide and she stared at Kali. "They tell me Mamma is dead, but she isn't, because she came and talked to me." The girl raised her head a little and looked over the room, and then pointed towards Andreth. "See, there is Mamma now," she said. "Mamma isn't dead." She buried her face in her pillow and began crying softly until at last she was asleep.

Edmund turned to Kali, puzzled. "She thinks your mamma is her own," said Kali. "I think she probably has a high fever... I've heard my mamma say that often times you think like that when you have a high fever."

Edmund had turned his eyes towards his mother. He remembered he had wanted to speak with her, but he didn't remember what he wanted to say. He was overwhelmed with pity for all the children in the room. He caught his squirrel as it began scampering down the bed for the fifteenth time and nestled it in his arms. He stood there for a moment, then made his way across the room to Andreth. She was telling a story. Clutching his squirrel tighter he climbed up onto her lap and put his head on her shoulder. She did not pause in her story, but he felt two comforting arms slip about him.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Soran watched his companions, first Guthwine, then Rudgar, charge into the Inn with weapons drawn. He winced in sympathy when the skillet came down on Rudgar's head, and hid behind some bushes when the men came rushing into the Inn. He watched through a window as they bound the two bandits and dragged them away.

Well, now what? Should he go back and tell Lotar what had happened, or should he go in the Inn himself and risk getting caught as well? Oddly enough, the second choice was more appealing. While there was no love lost between them, Soran could sympathize with Guthwine's worry for his son. Besides, he felt a bit paternal towards Rudgar.

Shaking his head at his own stupidity, Soran stood (mentally noting, again, that he shouldn't crouch on the ground. Joint pain was not good) and knocked on the door with the pommel of his sword.

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Berilac’s eyes went wide as Will swung open the door. ‘By the One!’ thought the Ranger as the man, with sword in hand, entered the room. Was there no end to the armed men from the north? Take care of one,’ he thought, ‘and another pops up.’ Berilac strode toward the man, motioning his bowman to cover him.

‘Sir,’ he began, hoping this one was more reasonable than the others. ‘Put your weapons on the table to your left, if you will. Then, sit over there, in that chair, with your hands on your knees,’ he said, indicating one of the chairs near the table.

As he waited for the man to comply, he asked Telien to take some of his men and repair the gap in the north end of the hedge. As the Big Folk left, he turned back to Soran. ‘My name is Berilac. And this is Andreth, the Innkeeper of The Prancing Pony.

‘Tell us your name. And please, tell me why you’ve come.’

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Soran did as he was told, sliding the sword along the table to get it farther away from him and taking the seat indicated. The hobbits kept their bows trained on him, which was not at all surprising. Two men had entered the Inn with weapons drawn and had not been at all interested in talking; a third was unlikely to be any more reasonable, to their way of thinking.

"My name is Soran," he began. "And as for why I've come, there are two answers to that. I'm in town because I am a father as well, and I understand Guthwine's worry for Ian. I'm in the Inn because I was hoping to show you that there are indeed reasonable men among us, even though you've just met two who were not."

[piosenniel]

Berilac

‘I'm in the Inn because I was hoping to show you that there are indeed reasonable men among us, even though you've just met two who were not.’

Soran sat calmly in the chair, his hands resting lightly on his knees. His eyes were set on the Ranger, the light from the small fire in the hearth glinting off the flecks of green that lay hidden in the dark brown of them. Berilac, for his part, studied the man closely. A little older than he was, he thought, noting the dark brown hair gone grey at the temples. Soran’s face, unsmiling, was seamed with worry lines, though about his eyes and at the corner of his lips were the ghosts of lines carved out at one time by smiles. ‘Here once was a cheerful man,’ thought Berilac, ‘one who delighted in life.’ The Hobbit wondered what or who had prompted the frequent smiles that had now lay buried beneath such sadness and grim despair. The man had said he was a father; Berilac’s thoughts turned to his own little family. They were the core of his delight and happiness. He looked at the oft mended grey and brown tunic and trews the man wore. Some of the seams were more finely sewn, and he wondered what fair hand had once mended them and now could do no longer.

Shaking these ponderings from his head, Berilac pulled up a chair near to Soran. He motioned for the archers to stand down, sending one of them to fetch the mayor, and for Will to take the man’s sword in hand and step away with it for the moment. ‘No need to be completely trusting,’ he told himself as he sat down. ‘Soran, is it? My name is Berilac,’ he began in introduction, then introduced the others who stood about the room. ‘You’ll recognize some of the children, I think,’ he continued, ‘and their mothers.’

Many of the women nodded to Soran, and he noted how the cares that etched their faces was beginning to fade; their hollowed cheeks now filling out with good food. And the children . . . there were smiles on their faces, even on those who were still abed with their injuries. And in their eyes shown a flicker of hope now.

Berilac drew the man’s attention, once again, and began to speak. ‘The folk of Bree are also reasonable, Soran. They have no desire to fight your band of refugees.’ Berilac shook his head to emphasize his point. That would be nothing short of brutal on both sides, and would accomplish very little other than more death and suffering.’ The Ranger leaned forward toward the man. ‘But the actions of some of your fellows – Guthwine,especially, who has organized the raids against the outlying farms – puts them on the defensive. As you already know, Guthwine is secured, and no, we are not that cruel as to deprive him of his son. The lad is here and recovering nicely, and will be allowed to see his father if that is your concern.’ Berilac leaned back against the chair. ‘But to be quite honest with you both he and his would be rescuer and the women and children will all remain our guests until the problem between Bree and the men from the north is resolved.’

Andreth stepped forward just as Berilac finished speaking, bearing a mug of ale in each hand. ‘Something for you gentlemen to keep your throats from parching while you talk,’ she said setting the foaming pints down carefully on the table. She was glad to see sensible words starting to be exchanged instead of threats and the rattling of weapons. Harald, by this time had arrived at the Inn. Slightly out of breath, he nodded to Berilac as he sat down at the table and listened carefully as the Ranger introduced Soran. Andreth, knowing the mayor’s fondness for the Pony’s ale, brought him a mug.

The three men sat speaking in earnest for a long time. Lilac and Andreth had moved the children and mothers to the far end of the large room, and had begun to distract them once again with stories and games. Will lent them a hand, as did Rosie and several of the other women from the town, though they kept a wary eye on the door and on the ragged man who sat at the table with the Ranger and the Mayor.

After a while, it was time for lunch, and all in the room gathered at the tables while the women brought out the simple offering. Soran was surrounded by children, all vying for his attention. Had he seen their fathers, or their brothers, or uncles, or cousins? Could he bring them with him next time? ‘The food is awfully good here,’ piped up one beaming little urchin, a half chewed cookie in his hand. ‘And all of us get our bowls filled to the top! And there’s juice . . . and bread !’ ‘And don’t forget the gooseberry jam,’ said another, his faced wreathed in smiles at the thought of the thick, sweet topping. One of the little girls, her face solemn, plucked at Soran’s sleeve. ‘You need to wash your hands, sir . . . before you eat. Miz Lilac says so.’ For a few brief moments, a smile shown out on the man’s face as he followed her to the basin of water set out for washing.

At long last, after cleaned hands, another mug of ale and two bowls of hearty lamb stew with fresh baked bread for Soran, the three men concluded their conversation. Soran, the Mayor had requested, would travel back to the encampment and ask that Lotar come for a meeting on the situation. ‘The sooner the better,’ the mayor stated. ‘Let him know what’s happening here with the two men, and tell him the women and children are well cared for.’ Harald leaned toward Berilac, a questioning look on his face. ‘Tomorrow, noon, sounds good to me. You?’

Berilac agreed, and said he would walk Soran to the gate and see him off. Will followed, bringing the man’s sword with him, handing it over when Soran had exited. ‘We’ll see you tomorrow, then, Soran. Come to the West Gate, and tell the gatekeeper there to send for the Mayor and me. We will come out to meet you just beyond the hedge.’

Will and the Hobbit watched as Soran sheathed his sword and quickly made his way north from the gate, toward the encampment . . .

[Orofaniel]

Rosie, Fippi and Hedgar were all gathered at the Inn. The outlaw children were wounded and Andreth needed some help. Fippi had brought his toys and he was already on the floor playing with some children. The horse that Hedgar had made in wood was quite fun to play with, and the other children obviously thought so too, because they were now gathering around him trying to get a glimpse of the beautiful horse. Hedgar stood next to him, looking proud over his own work, even though he had to admit it wasn't really that hard.

Even though they had moved into a bigger room next to the room where Berilac and the bandit were talking, there seemed to be tension where Rosie was as well. Everyone seemed quite worried and anxious to know more about the situation. When lunch came Rosie found the cookies she had made and served the others. They seemed popular among the children and among the adults. "I should have made more." Rosie gasped at Andreth when she saw that they were soon eaten up. Rosie only wanted to give the small children something good to eat while they were sick or wounded, it always helped her own son, Fippi, get into a better mood. "No, don't worry Rosie." Andreth said and smiled. "I think they are fine…" She added. "And if they want more, we could always figure something out..." she said and helped one of the children with some juice.

"Oh..okay.." Rosie said and started to breathe again. "I guess that's a good idea." She added afterwards and got her husband to help Fippi with something. He had been standing with one of his hand in his pocket, while the other was holding one of her cookies. "They taste very good..." Hedgar said and laughed as he walked passed his wife. Rosie grinned and tried to avoid the sarcasm that he had used. "No, seriously..." he added when he saw Rosie's reaction. She rolled her eyes and ignored the last comment.

"So, do you want me to do anything else?" Rosie was a bout to ask Andreth when she saw Edmund coming towards her. "Well, hello there...." She said and smiled. "Hi." He said cheerfully.

"Haven't I met you before.....?" Rosie said and smiled. "Yes...of course...When you worked by the hedge...with the squirrel!" Rosie said and smiled at the boy. "Yes....and I asked you if I could get more tea...and I did...and I got a cookie too.....just like these ones!" He said and smiled while he held up three cookies. Oh...that's why they were eaten up so quickly... , Rosie thought and looked at the three cookies Edmund was holding in his hands. "Yes...something like that..." She said and smiled even wider. Rosie then noticed that one of his pockets were much larger than the other..."You still have the squirrel...don't you?" She said and pointed at his pocket. He took a bit of one of his cookies and nodded. He then found the squirrel that had been lying in his pocket and held it up fro Rosie to see. "Oh...he's adorable..." Rosie muttered and started to pet it on the back.

"Mhm..." Edmund mumbled and gave the squirrel a hug. "May I?" Rosie asked politely and reached out her hands. She wanted to hold it. "Oh-okay..." He said and gave her the squirrel. It wasn't very heavy, and its fur was very soft. Its legs tickled her small Hobbit hands and she giggled. "Careful now...don't squeeze it." Edmund warned her. "I won't," she said and started to pet it.

***

"Do you reckon' they are soon finished in there?" Fippi asked Rosie when she came back to the table where he was seated. She had just been talking to Edmund for a while, so she thought she might check up on her son because Hedgar was on the floor on all four explaining the children how to make toy horses in wood. They were paying close attention, and didn't want to be disturbed.

"I hope so..." Rosie mumbled while she looked worried. She didn't want to worry her son more than he already was. "Fippi, where you scared?" Rosie said suddenly. Fippi blinked and nodded carefully. "Oh..sweetheart, you know I wouldn't have let anything happen to you." Rosie said and looked into his eyes. "I know...." Fippi said and looked down. "I just don't like that the other children are wounded." he said and blinked again. "Mhm..." Rosie muttered and hugged him. "Don't worry Fippi dear....Mommy is here to protect you and so is dad...” She whispered. "Not that you need it...." Rosie said and laughed. "You’re so brave, my dear son.." She said and laughed again, this time even louder than before.

This seemed to comfort Fippi and he laughed as well. Shortly after, he got down on all his four. He was now listening how Hedgar explained to the other children how you could make toy horses in wood, and what kinds of materials would be most suitable for these makings.

[Taralphiel]

Lotar walked amongst those still in the camp. He talked with many of the men, and calmed the nerves of manay a woman and child. Allthough many had been taken to be seen to in Bree, many were still left in the cold and suffering great hunger. Lotar himself felt his stomach grumble at the thought of a warm meal.

His son stood beside him, also surveying the scene in front of him before speaking.

'Guthwine is not here. Do you suppose he has gotten himself into trouble?'

'I do not suppose' said Lotar 'I know. The man will not suffer to be without control of any situation! He will have stormed into Bree, demanding this or that! And he will get a whalloping for his trouble'

Kandel paused 'I heard from a few, that his son had arrived and was quickly rushed to Bree. I do not know if it is all tall tales, but maybe it could account for him being so brash like that'

Lotar gave a low grumble 'Son or not, he will always be causing a stir'

Kandel nodded at this, and then said 'What do you think the Breelanders will do next?'

'I am not entirely sure Son. They see now we are no band of savages, but a families fleeing razed homes and savage beasts. Now it is up to them to decide where such people may go. It is out of my hands for a little while...'

Lotar then saw a man step into the clearing at the far side. It did not take him long at all to see that it was Soran. He approached Lotar and he could tell by the colour in his cheeks that he had been in warmth and had a good meal.

'I come from Bree. The Mayor requests your presence to discuss matters. They ask us to be at the West Gate tomorrow. He also says that until then the women, children, and Guthwine and Rudgar stay in the city...'

'I do not mind that last part at all' said Lotar with a growl 'It seems I was on the mark when I said Guthwine was bringing trouble to himself! Foolhardy and heavy-handed if ever I knew a man!!'

Lotar composed himself and turned to Kandel and Soran 'Well, if we are to meet the men of Bree, we shall need to have something to say! Let us ponder on what it is will solve this situation...'

[piosenniel]

Arestevana's post - Kirima

Kirima turned away from Lilac to hide a yawn. They had spent most of the previous night awake with Ian, whose fever had finally broken in the black hours of the morning. Lilac was continuosly berating the younger woman for not taking a break from her work and getting a little sleep.

Kirima glanced around the Inn. Some of the children were still very sick, but almost all were smiling. They were warm and well-fed, which was helping them greatly to recover. Townsfolk had come throughout the day to talk to the refugees. The visitors had cheered up the Inn's guests considerably, and there was more laughter among the refugees than there had been in a long time.

Stifling another yawn, Kirima scanned the common room again, checking to ascertain that everyone was doing well. She smiled, seeing Gilly sitting up and chattering away happily to the boy on the pallet next to her. Sure that no one needed helping at the moment, Kirima allowed herself to reflect on the events of the past days. Soran had left in the early afternoon, after speaking for a long while with Berilac and the mayor. He was to arrange a meeting for Lotar and several persons from Bree, Kirima recalled. She was glad to know that their situation could be resolved without fighting.

We will have homes again! She thought. Homes of our own, and farms to grow food so we need not go hungry. She could see in her mind's eye the children laughing and chasing eachother through the fields. She smiled at the thought and stood to make her rounds again, changing bandages and administering herbal remedies where they were needed. Even among the most badly injured children, there were bright smiles and hopeful faces. Kirima thought again of the homes they would soon have, and smiled back.

[piosenniel]

Berilac – day before the meeting

Once Soran had been seen out of the village and the gate secured again, Berilac made his way to the Town Hall for a meeting with the Mayor. Telien was there when he knocked on the door and was let in. The captain was just sending out one of his men to make the rounds of the Hedge, and had directed him to set up guards along the perimeter to make sure no other outsiders tried to bypass the gates and enter through and gaps.

The three men then put their heads together concerning what offers Bree might make to the Northmen’s leader tomorrow at noon. They were all hoping that they might offer them a plan for moving on and settling in another place. Harald, earlier, had directed one of his clerks to keep a running inventory of the provisions and livestock brought into the village since the threat of invasion had had become a possibility. His penchant for keeping informed on the economic well-being of Bree-land had kept him in touch with those whose interests ran to lumber and smithying, and other smaller industries such as weaving, basketry, and wagon-making. His finger ran down his lists and he rumbled off items and quantities, now, to the clerk he had called in to take notes.

Berilac and Telien were at another table, looking over several maps the Ranger had brought with him. They had narrowed down their suggestions for areas of relocation to two, and were now discussing the merits of both. ‘We should take into consideration they are from the northern lands,’ Telien said, pointing to the area where the refugees had come from. ‘They will be used to that sort of terrain and clime.’ Berilac nodded at this comment and pointed at an area he thought might be suitable. ‘Not too difficult to get to from here,’ he said, ‘which is a definite advantage, and there will be plenty of room for them to build.’ ‘Good water source,’ said Telien, ‘and these hills should provide good hunting and some of the raw materials they’ll need for building. Plus, the flatter areas have rich soil – good for the food crops they’ll need.’

By the end of the day, they had hammered out what they might offer the refugees. Berilac hac spoken with Lilac when he was in the Inn and for the most part, the refugee women and children would be well enough to travel in a week. Plenty of time for the villagers to pull together the supplies they would send with the refugees.

‘We can also send Minastan with them,’ said Berilac. ‘He is familiar with the country around there and can see to their safe passage.’

It had grown late by the time they were done. The three agreed to meet early tomorrow morning to refine any points that might be a little unclear, and then they would go together to the meeting on the field outside the West Gate. Telien, taking no chances, said that he would arrange for a company of long bowmen along the top of the Hedge. They would stand at ease, he assured them, but at a signal from him they would fire a volley and let the trio of Breeland representatives make a dash for the Gate.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine and Andreth:

Andreth picked up the two dinner trays and, balancing them precariously in one hand, grabbed one of the lanterns that hung on a hook in the kitchen, and then walked down the steps. The basement was actually the oldest part of the Inn, the stone foundation on which the original hostelry had been built many years before. The small lantern threw its light only a few paces in front of the Innkeeper, as the dark walls threatened to close in and gave off a dank, stale smell.

Andreth walked across the packed dirt floor and came to the entrance of the cellar where wines were normally stored. The room was now empty except for their two unwelcome guests. The usual stock of wine had dwindled with the onrush of displaced farmers from the outlying settlements and the general dearth of provisions that had resulted from the drought. The few remaining bottles were stored in the upstairs larder.

Three Breelanders stood on guard at the door of the makeshift cell; one was Berilac's helper, the other two were her own people. Andreth nodded to the soldiers to let her inside.

"Don't know if that's wise, Miz Andreth," one of the guards objected. "There's two of them and one of you. Best set the tray here and we'll push it in and slam the door again."

"Nonsense," the Innkeeper retorted. "We've got the big one's boy. He's not going to do anything that might jeopardize his son. Anyways, " she added, "this is my Inn, and you can't stop me from going anywhere I please."

One of the guards cocked an eyebrow, muttering under his breath that Berilac and the Mayor might have something to say about that. A few minutes of bickering back and forth and the guards had agreed to let Andreth go in as long as one of the Big Folk armed with a sharp blade came along with her.

*************************************************

Guthwine and Rudgar both looked up, listening to the sound of a key turning in the lock. The door slowly pushed open. The Innkeeper walked through the door, imediately followed by one of the soldiers, who had his hand clenched tightly about the hilt of his sword. Andreth set the breakfast trays down. Rudgar came forward to eat, but Guthwine remained stubbornly on the other side of the cell, throwing harsh looks towards the Innkeeper.

'I need to speak with you," she began.

"Then why did you bring your keeper with you?" Guthwine scowled, casually gesturing towards the armed guard.

"I had little choice in that. Anyways, it's not important. I bring news of your son."

For the first time, Guthwine leaned forward intent on hearing what Andreth had to say. "Yes. How is he? Does he live?"

"Your son came through the night well. The fever has broken. He is still weak but this morning he awoke. He drank a cup of broth and listened while I read a story. Guthwine, Kirima and Lilac say he will be fine in just a little while." She reached out and took the Man's hand, squeezing it.

"They have cared for him then? When I was thrown in here, I feared the worst...."

Andreth vehemently shook her head. "Of course, we would not hurt a young child. Do not think of us like that."

Guthwine shook his head, "What else should I think? Everywhere we have gone, we have met with fear and anger. Once or twice, we tried to beg for help but we were sent on our way with curses and howls."

"But Breelanders are not like that!"

"No?" Guthwine countered. "If we had come to you without a show of strength, without instilling fear through the raids, would you even have listened to us?

Andreth sighed and shook her head, "I do not know. But we are listening now. Berilac and the Mayor are good folk. They will not turn you away without help. But you must give them assurances about your own conduct; they are afraid you will turn on us, even if Lotar gives his word. What you say and do could make a difference."

Guthwine turned away. "You're sure Andreth, about Ian and the other children. They and the women have not been hurt?"

"I swear to you this is so. My son Edmund is upstairs playing with the others, showing them his pet squirrel. I am going there now to teach a few of the children, the ones who are feeling better."

"Teach? Teach them what?"

Andreth smiled, "Simple numbers and adding. Few of them seem to know such things."

Guthwine grunted, "When you're struggling to survive in the wilderness, you have little enough time for such luxuries."

"That may be true. But if you're going to have a town of your own, then it's a different matter. You will need to trade and make deals as well as raising crops and hunting down game. Letters and numbers can help."

Guthwine quickly countered, "You think it possible then....that your folk will help us to gain a settlement of our own."

"I believe so, and the Rangers can do much to help."

Guthwine stared off vacantly at the stone wall of the cell, "A home of my own.... I had almost forgotten such a thing was possible." He stared down at the breakfast tray and looked up again, thinking how strange it was that he could be so unmoved by the Men and hobbits who wielded swords and yet the voice of a woman who spoke kindly of his son left such an impression. Should he trust her or not? But then, he had no real choice. And if these Breelanders were honorable, it would be a callous thing to spit in their faces. Part of being a soldier was knowing when to call for a temporary witthdrawal of troops in order to gain the long term victory. And a home and a village, however they were gotten, were indeed a long term victory.

"Alright, then. Do this. Have your Men take me to Lotar in private or bring him to me. Or take me to the meeting itself and I will give you my oath of peace. The young man will do as I do, I am sure." He grumbled under his breath, "I am a stubborn man, but I am not an oathbreaker."

Andreth laughed as she left the cell, "No, Guthwine, I believe you are not."

************************************************** **


Later that evening, Andreth was sitting in her study and writing out a note to Berilac and another to the Mayor telling them what Guthwine had said. Edmund crawled up on her lap and peered over at the page.

"There are a lot of words here!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, not so many as all that!"

"What are they for?"

She thought a minute and looked down at her son and smiled, "Do you remember Ian? The little boy who's been so sick."

Edmund brightened, "I like him, and my squirrel likes him too."

"So do I," countered Andreth. "I'm just trying to make sure Ian gets his family together again, and that one more loose end gets tied up."

Andreth gave Edmund a kiss on his brown curls, and then called for Ruby, asking her to deliver the notes immediately to see if something could be done before the meeting.

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Berilac was up long before the sun. He nudged his brother awake, holding a finger to his own lips as he whispered, ‘Quiet! Do not wake the children. Walk with me to the Mayor’s office; I have something I need to talk over with you.’ Rosco pulled on his breeches and tunic, grabbing his cloak from the peg by the door as the two exited. He walked along quietly beside him, knowing that prompting him to speak his mind would meet with no success. The man would speak when he was ready.

They had just come to the crossroads where a right turn would put them on the path to the Town Hall. Berilac, a little ahead of his brother, did not make the turn, but continued to walk in the same direction as previously. The Ranger sighed, and pulled the note that Andreth had sent to him. ‘What do you think of this?’ he asked Rosco. ‘She’s a fair judge of people, I think. But can we trust a man who razed some of the outlying farms and had plans to invade Bree itself.’

Rosco read through the short note, then arched his brow at his brother. ‘Oath of peace, eh?’ Berilac glanced at his brother, waiting for him to go on. ‘I’ll give you his “oath of peace” – you still have his son at the Inn. Keep his son there, and take the man with you to the meeting. He’ll keep his oath, then.’

‘So, I thought, too,’ said Berilac. ‘Though I hate to use a man’s child against him.’ He stopped in his tracks, and asked Rosco to continue on the Inn. ‘Tell Andreth we will pick Guthwine up on our way to meet with Lotar, just before noon.’

~*~

Berilac hastened up the path to the Town Hall. Harald and Telien were there ahead of him, as well as the Mayor’s clerk with his list of goods which Harald had asked him to research. The Ranger could hear the man working his way down the list as he pushed open the door.

‘ . . . packets of seeds we have here – vegetables and herbs of all sorts . . . garden implements . . . two large wagons and seven smaller carts – these will have to be hand-pulled. We’ve only enough horses to spare for the wagons . . . smoked hams, and a good deal of salted pork . . . tubers, of all sorts . . . gardening implements . . . Now the weavers’ guild has some bolts of serviceable cloth they can send . . . sorry we haven’t any boots to spare, but the tanner has given a number of tanned hides for use . . . we’ve found those big tents the village uses for the midsummer faire . . . they should house a large part of the majority . . . the women have pitched in – there’ll be quilts aplenty . . .’

The man scratched his head for a moment, as he considered the list.

‘Lumber’s a problem . . . there’s really no way to transport it . . . but we looked at the area Berilac suggested – there are plenty of trees . . . given the right tools they can fell and plane their own . . . nails of course, we can spare them . . . best thing, though, is I spoke with the smithy – he has an old, small portable forge . . . serviceable . . . it’ll see them through to better days . . .’

The man’s voice droned on, filling Harald in on what he needed to know. Berilac motioned for Telien to come to the other side of the room. He filled the captain in on the fact that Guthwine would now be accompanying them to the meeting. Telien nodded his head, saying that might prove a good move, since Guthwine did have a number of men in the refugee group over whom he had influence.


The sun rose higher in the sky as the three men planned their strategy. When it was just an hour before noon, the trio headed to the Inn. Andreth had persuaded the guards to let Guthwine and Rudgar come up to the main room. The grim warrior sat at his son’s bedside, speaking softly with him as they entered, a smile lighting his face. Berilac spoke briefly to Guthwine, telling him he would be allowed to go out to speak with Lotar and that Rudgar would also go along. ‘There will be guards who go with us,’ he said to the man, and you will not be armed. We will not bind you, unless you give us cause to.’ Berilac nodded toward the man’s son, who was now peacefully sleeping. ‘He will have to stay behind, until the terms are hammered out to all our satisfaction.’ Guthwine nodded his head as he gazed at his son, knowing this was a prudent move on the part of the Breelanders.

Andreth cleared her throat as they finished speaking, motioning for the Ranger to see her for a moment. She drew forth one of the women who stood near her and introduced her to Berilac. ‘This is Kirima. She came in with the women to help with the sick children. Lilac and I have put together a box of herbs and unguents for her to take back to the camp – there are many there still ill who would not come into town. We’ve also packed a little hand cart for her to take with her. It holds the medicine box, and some bandages, but most of all it has dried meats ands vegetables for soups, and some dried apples, too.’ Hands on hips, Andreth looked at him, mustering arguments should he disapprove.

Berilac smiled and shook his head at her. ‘No argument from me, Andreth. We’ll see her safely to the meeting.’ He nodded at Kirima, motioning for her to start for the door. It was almost time for the meeting. Berilac herded the group out the door and down the path to the West Gate. Telien led the way, followed by Harald. Then came Kirima with Guthwine and Rudgar trailing her. Rudgar pushed the wagon for her, followed by two of Telien’s guard and Berilac in the rear. The naturally curious folk of Bree lined the road and poked their heads out of their windows, watching the group's progress.

There was little talk among the members of the group as they made their way through the Gate and proceeded to the meeting on the field . . .

[Chathol-linn]

Harald

The West Gate went “SLAM” after Berilac, Telien, and Harald passed through. Or maybe it is my heart , thought the Mayor.

Guthwine and Kirima were walking ahead of the three Breelanders. They carried rolled maps, for showing the relocations and new settlements. Harald hoped that the maps gave the two outlaws some sense of connection to stability, home, hope. Because, if something went wrong, those two would die first, quickly followed by the Breelanders.

None of the five carried a visible weapon although each wore a bootknife of diverse make and kind. Harald wore his red scarf at his neck and carried a white cloth on a pole. They all held their heads high. The autumn sun of morning burnished their tangled hair and made each of them gleam for a moment like heroes.

“If anything happens to my son, Mayor, my spirit will poison this town for a thousand years,” said Guthwine over his shoulder.

“If my Mum were still alive she would tell you to harness that anger and use it to plow fields, sow crops, raise barns and bairns,” said Harald. “And say nothing of my Mum if you wish to …”

But Kirima interrupted, “The town folk have helped our own, and we have not harmed the Breelanders, so perhaps we have reached more trust by now.”

Berilac said, “Certainly we have reached the meeting place, for there are the Out- ah, there are the others now.”

Three figures walked forward from the belt of trees and came toward them over the field.

Harald said, “I see one man confident, one despairing, and one both down and hopeful. Who are they?”

“Lotar, Soran,” growled Guthwine.

“Kandel,” said Kirima, smiling.

A glitter of light flashed in their faces. It was the archers of Bree on the dyke, raising bows in one hand and arrows in the other. From the belt of trees, the Breelanders could see spearheads – a second forest of them - shaken by unseen outlaw hands.

Harald and Lotar approached, and they met in the center of the field.

“Hail,” said Harald. “I am Harald the Mayor of Bree. Here are Telien of the Guard and Berilac the Ranger. Here also are Guthwine and Kimira, whom you know. We meet this hour under the flag of truce, to parley if you will, of peace. What do you say, Outlanders?”

[Taralphiel]

Lotar moved out from the trees with his son at his side.

Soran also stod by him and he mumbled to Lotar 'They surround us'

'Aye, I see them. They do not have much skill in subtelty. But still, we have little choce but to trust them'

'These men are farmers and family-men' whispered Kandel 'They are not killers. I do trust them'

Lotar was surprsed by this. His son always found the humour in situations this dire, but his face was filled wth conviction. He could swear he looked more like his mother then, than he ever had.

He saw a group of men, standing by the gate. He recognised Rudgar and Guthwine, and Kirima also. He also noticed o0ne of Rudgar's recruits with them. Lotar gave a grumble 'I think he has made our name more infamous than we ever could have. Blast him and his hard skull...'

A man then called out to the three:

“Hail,I am Harald the Mayor of Bree. Here are Telien of the Guard and Berilac the Ranger. Here also are Guthwine and Kimira, whom you know. We meet this hour under the flag of truce, to parley if you will, of peace. What do you say, Outlanders?”

Lotar looked at both Soran and Kandel, before he called out:

'I am Lotar, or the men you call Outlanders. Though we are not what you would have your people believe. We too, come to settle this matter, for it will bring only pain to us both if it is settled by the manner of the sword'

He shot a glare at Guthwine, who did not look back, and Lotar approached further.

'You can se we have naught to thraten you with, and the woods round about are free of any of our people. I would ask that you remove those archers aims from us now, so we can go forward and talk...'

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Telien signaled the archers on the walls to stand down. Bows were lowered, but the vigilant men stood ready at a command from their Captain to fire if needed. The wind picked up and blew through the brown grass. Its rustlings among the sere blades were the only sound heard in the space where the two groups stood.

Harald and his group approached no further toward the three, but motioned them nearer, saying they would be now be safe. Berilac urged Kirima to cross to where Lotar and his son stood and bring them closer. Soran trailed after them, his eyes watching for any movement among the archers.

Berilac stepped forward a little as Lotar neared and nodded at the man. ‘We understand we might come to some agreement over what it would take to get you to move on.’ He looked at Kirima, who stood by Kandel, then turned his gaze back to Lotar. ‘She has told us of the conditions in the camp, and spoken of how you were displaced from your homes and your livelihood. And we have seen with our own eyes the effects this has had on your children’s spirits and their health.’ He gestured toward Telien and the Mayor. 'Bree is too small a place to lend you any army to regain your lands. Truth be told Bree has no army; they are only a band of farmers and gardeners and merchants who hold their own land dear.’ He stepped closer to Lotar. ‘But they are a people whom good fortune has shined on. And my own folk have found them to be large hearted and generous to those in need.’ Berilac looked at Guthwine. ‘I think even he might tell you they have taken good care of his son, though he threatened them with word and blade.’

‘Bree is prepared, within reason, to help your people, Lotar. What would you ask of them?’

[piosenniel]

Taralphiel's post

Lotar looked upon the mayor slowly before he began. He could feel all the eyes of Bree on him, and the scorn of a few as well. But putting this into the back of his mind, he spoke:

'You say you are but farmers and simple folk. Then you understand that we are of common thread. But our times became dark and we were not able to live such a happy life. We have run and gone far in search of that life again, and we sought to find it here. I now understand that we went about it the wrong way. We came with raised hand when it should have been open. But none could have seen before I think, and so now I will seek to undo what it is that has been done.'

'I ask of you only what you can spare us. We are no longer thieves, and we repay our debts to you in kind. All we ask is a place to settle ourselves and start anew, tools for building, seeds and means to start farms and sow crops. Once we are well established in a place we will work to show our honour.'

Lotar looked out the corner of his eye at his son, who was smiling at his fathers words. He knew he would later hear the jests about the miraculous way Lotar held his composure. Lotar did not smile back, but kept his eye on the Mayor.

His face was stern, but he saw compassion. He knew that what Lotar had said rang true. In any other circumstance, they might have been good friends, fellow farmers enjoying the happy life the land brings to ones so fortunate. Lotar hoped with all his heart that one day that may be a reality.

Holding is breath a slight, he waited for the response of the Mayor.

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Once Lotar had given his slim list of needs, the Mayor conferred with Berilac and Telien. Their own list of what they thought would be needed was much longer, and Berilac chuckled to himself, thinking how the Breelanders were at heart creatures of comfort. By their own reckoning, they had figured far more would be needed to see the North men through. Harald sent Telien back to the gate, whispering some low instruction to him. Then he handed the list he and his clerk had drawn up, asking Berilac to present it to Lotar.

All of the items that had been discussed between the clerk and the mayor just yesterday had been obtained. From seed packets, and meats and vegetables to tools, implements, wood, and even a small portable forge had been garnered from the good folk of Breeland. There were quilts and clothes and herbs and unguents from the goodwives of the village. And from the outlying farmers there were some goats for milking, a number of setting hens and a rooster, and a few fine, fat pigs.

The outland leader’s eyes went wide as he read through items. Harald, thinking that something was amiss, stepped closer to peer over the Ranger’s shoulder. ‘This will have to do, my good sir,’ he said to Lotar. ‘It’s all that we can offer.’ He stopped to think for a few moments. ‘Now we can offer three of our great wagons, of course, for the carrying of it.’

Berilac nudged the hand of Lotar which held the list. And Kandel gently shook his father’s shoulder. ‘Father . . .’

‘We will not give weapons,’ said Berilac, if that is why you hold back. ‘I think you have enough of those.’ Still Lotar did not speak. Berilac then unfolded a small map and laid it on the ground for all to look at. They crouched down about it, and Berilac explained that there was an area around the western side of Lake Nenuial where they could easily settle and begin to rebuild. Plenty of land and game and available timber and water. ‘Mayor Harald, of course,’ said the Hobbit, ‘would like you to remember that Bree was helpful to your good folk. And when you get yourselves established, he and the traders in Breeland would be happy to do business with you.’

Guthwine had crouched down to look at the map. ‘We do not know this place at all,’ he said to Lotar. ‘How shall we find it?’ Berilac looked the man squarely in the eye. ‘One of the Rangers who knows the area will go with you. He and I have already discussed this, and he will take on this task to see you safely there.’ Berilac stood, picking up the map as he did so.

‘What say you two, then, to Breeland’s offer? They are prepared to send you on your way at once should you say yes to it . . .’

[Child of the 7th Age]

An Agreement is Reached:

Lotar signaled to Berilac that he needed a moment to think, then walked a few paces ahead and gestured to the others to follow. The small group of outlaws walked to the far side of the grove, still within sight of the bowmen, but far enough away from the Breelanders that they could talk in peace. Several of them stared expectantly at Lotar, waiting for him to indicate what his decision would be. Shaking his head no as if anticipating their request, he hastily explained, “I’ll not make this decision without your counsel. You have been my companions and advisors these past weeks. Now I would hear what you think of the bargain the Breelanders are offering.”

One-by-one, each of them replied: Soran, Kirima, Rudgar, and his own son Kandel, whose counsel Lotar had grown to trust more than any of the others. Each voiced hopes and hesitations similar to his own. Establishing a new settlement with winter coming on would not be easy, but it was a risk that they would have to take. They were heartily sick of bloodshed and would rather struggle against the elements and the hardship rather than to strike another blow against men and women who were villagers just like themselves.

Guthwine stood at the back of the circle saying nothing. The events of the past few months had taken a heavy toll on both the rivals. Guthwine's hair was streaked with grey; his face haggard and worn with continuing worries over his son. Lotar's eyes were weighted down with the responsibility of being a leader and trying to determine what was best for his people. Turning to face Guthwine, Lotar chose his words with care, "What say you? I will not agree without the support of my main counselors. And you are one of these, Gurthwine, Whatever has happened between us in the past, we need to move forward. I'll have my hands full governing this new town. We'll need a force of constables and wardens to keep order and get things settled. I hope you can take the lead with that."

The others listened as Guthwine spoke, “Lotar, you have my word. These Breelanders have treated my son with gentleness, and I would be a churlish man to answer them with a sword. I can not promise that we two will always see eye-to-eye for there are times when a sword is needed. But I do admit that you have the goodness of these folk at heart.”

Now, as to that force of constables…..” Here a hint of a smile played on Guthwine’s face. “We have plenty of young ones with talent as well.” He glanced towards Kandel and Rudgar. “Let’s just hope that we have nothing more serious to do than hauling off partygoers at our new Inn when their celebrations get a little out of hand. We could all use a little peace and quiet.”

Lotar placed his hand on Guthwine’s shoulders, “Aye, with that statement I can agree.”

*************************************************


The Breelanders watched as the small group emerged from the side of the grove. It was Lotar who first signaled his intent to Berilac and the Mayor, “Sirs, we accept your offer of assistance. May there come a time when we can repay the generosity of the Breelanders. And a special thanks to Andreth and Lilac who first came to us in peace.” He turned around and grcefully bowed to the ladies who were standing some ways back.

“Would it be possible for our women and children to return to camp with us tonight?” Lotar added. “ I know their families would appreciate that gesture.”

“I do not see why not,” the Mayor replied. Then he signaled to Telien to have the women and children brought out from the Inn in one or two of the larger wagons so they could reunite with their kin.

Before the outlaws and the wagons finally departed to the encampment in the woods, Berilac sealed the agreement with Lotar, “Tomorrow, we will meet again in this grove. The Breelanders will bring the supplies and see you off on your journey.”

“And you will come?” Lotar pressed.

“Aye, I give you my word.” With that, the two sides parted to prepare for the next day.

[piosenniel]

Early Morning of the Departure

Rosco woke to the sound of the door quietly closing. The sky was still dark as he looked through the curtains in the small room he shared with his brother at Mausi’s house. His gaze fell on the empty bed next to his and he sat up sighing. Berilac had gone out, as he had most every night, to watch the stars twinkle and then fade with the coming of the day. Rosco, curious at his behavior, had gotten up with him the first day he had done this. ‘What draws you out in the chilly wee hours of the morning, brother,’ he had asked. For a moment Berilac had remained silent, his eyes watching the moon slip down westward to the rim of the world and dip below it.

‘It’s my assurance, brother,’ he said quietly his brown eyes fixed on the western horizon. ‘Day follows night, the stars lighting the way through the darkness.’ He was quiet again, bowing his head slightly toward the west as the first fingers of pale light crept up in the east, throwing his long shadow down the path before him.

This morning was no different. Rosco pulled on his breeches and grabbing his cloak from the peg by the door, went out to stand by his brother. Berilac’s face bore a trace of sadness, put away but barely at the approach of the other Hobbit. He nodded at Rosco, then looked back to the glittering stars. ‘Look there,’ he said softly, pointing to the north east, ‘where the head of Soronúmë as the Elves call it, peeks just over the horizon.’ Rosco’s eyes followed his brother’s finger to spy out the few stars showing of the great Eagle. ‘My newest bairn should just be born this day, brother,’ the Ranger continued in a low voice. ‘Were I that eagle I would fly away home straight away.’ Rosco offered no words of comfort, only drew his younger brother near, putting his arm about his shoulders as he had often done in their younger years.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The wagons roll out the West Gate

It had been a very long night. Three great wagons had all been loaded, and men and Hobbits stood knuckling their eyes, trying to drive the weariness from them. Most of Bree had turned out to see the wagons off. A few wanting to say good-bye to friends they had made and most curious to see the ‘outlanders’ close up.

The children led the way, ignoring the calls of their parents to stay close. Eager to see the friends they had made when the women and children had come from the encampment to stay at the Inn, they ran pell mell through the Gate, squeezing past the wagons that lumbered through like great beasts. Across the dike-way and rushing like leaves pushed by the wind they sought out the children they had met, hailing them with cries of ‘Hey’ from their smiling faces. The outland children were just as eager in their greetings, running forward against their parents pleas to be careful.

Peony with Pearl and Hanson sought out the two little sisters and their littler brother they had played with at the Inn. A napkin filled with candies and a few cookies was handed over to the departing trio, followed by hugs and smiles.

Kari’s red curls could be seen near one of the girls whose arm was in a sling. ‘I’ve brought you a little game to play – you know, the one we liked when you were at the Inn.’ The other girl’s eyes shone as he opened up the hinged wooden box – there inside were the red and black round pieces, and when the box was opened fully, it sat flat with a checkerboard pattern on it. She smiled shyly at Karianne, then gave her a great hug. Kari made her promise that she would bring it back to play a game should her family come back to Bree. Willowfain was there, too as were Rollo and Randy – their laughter bubbling up as they saw their friends once more. Fippi came running up also, starting a game of tag with his new friends and waving at Ella and Mondy to come play for a while.

Mondy broke away from the game of tag to seek out Ian. Still weak from his wound, he could not run out with the other children. ‘I’ve something for you,’ he told Ian, fishing into his breeches pocket. Mondy hauled out a small leather pouch tied up tightly at the neck with a leather thong. Ian reached out for the familiar bag, his eyes shining. ‘Hey!’ a voice piped up from beside Mondy. Grinning up at the boy, Mondy fished out a similar bag for him. ‘You must be Meri,’ he laughed. ‘Looks just like you said, Ian,’ he went on. ‘Though I don’t see the hop-toad resemblance you mentioned!’ Ian winced as his brother smacked him on the arm. Meri opened the little bag, taking out the rounded clay marbles, glazed in shades of brown. ‘That’s the “shooter”,’ said Ian as Meri held up one that was a little larger sized. ‘I’ll show you how to play at our first camp,’ Ian continued. Mondy leaned in close to Meri, ‘Don’t let him cheat on you, now. He likes to put his knuckle inside the line and that’s not allowed.’ Meri looked at Ian with a knowing look. Ian laughed and smacked Mondy on the arm. ‘Now I’ll have to play fair with Toad!’

Will hung back with the older, not wanting to be thought a child, but Berilac nudged him forward, saying he should say his goodbyes. Little Lily went with him, her eyes big at the group of outlanders gathered across the field. ‘It will be fine,’ Will assured her. ‘And look there, isn’t that your little friend? The one you gave the dolly to?’

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Soon the wagons, followed by the older folk of Bree came up to where the families from the North awaited them. There were more good-byes said then, between the women of the two groups and little baskets given over to see the folk on their way.

The men who would drive the wagons westward clambered up to their seats, waiting patiently for the final farewells to be said, and awaiting the signal from Lotar to go forward . . .

_______________________________________________

Esgallhugwen's post

For once Poppy had to keep up with Lily, who was eager to be one of first at Bree Gate, to say farewell to her new friend and, the rest of the refugees. Will was seen instantly by Lily, who rushed over to him, "Hello Will!", she smiled, weaving past him she was amazed to see a vast group of people before her.
No matter where she looked, poor Lily, couldn't find the friend she made at the Inn.

"Isn't that your friend. The one you gave the dolly to?", Will pointed out to Lily. She gasped in excitement and looked up at Poppy.

"Yes, you can go say hello", Poppy waved her on.
She ran up to her and said, "I nearly missed you. You really shouldn't hide behind a wagon, I couldn't see you", the girl smiled and giggled.

Lily was carrying a small basket of cookies and candy. She passed it on to her dark haired friend, "Don't eat all of it at once, you may not feel too great after; believe me, I know", she smirked.

Poppy smiled at Little Lily's friendly gesture. She spoke to Rosie, "I'm so relieved, I doubted for awhile if this would end peacefully. I was afraid for everyone, funny how things turn out for the best, maybe it is luck".

"Maybe it is, maybe it's how it was meant to be", Rosie replyed.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Kali and Ian:

Ian lay on the hay in the back of the wagon nestled down beside several other children who were still too weak to walk for such a long distance. He was wrapped securely in a blanket that Lilac had given him earlier that morning. His sister Meri stood alongside the dray horse putting a steadying hand on the reins to make sure that the animal remained in place. Ian's mother sat in the back with the sick and injured children, helping to nurse them.

Ian leaned over the side and flashed a welcoming smile as he spied Kali sprinting towards the wagon. "You're almost ready to go," the young hobbit beamed. " Mama says that you're going to travel to a new town, just like we did. You'll have a home of your own and everything!"

"That's what my father says too."

"That's your dad? " Kali's eyes followed to where Ian was now pointing. He could see a large man astride a horse near the front of the column, a great broadsword strapped about his waist. "He's really big. " observed Kali. "Even bigger than most of the Big Folk I know."

Ian looked up and grinned, "Yes, and I plan to be twice as tall."

"Don't do that!" warned Kali. "You'll never fit in our burrow. You will come back and visit us?" Kali quickly added.

"I hope so. Master Lotar says that we will trade with Bree once things settle down. I've told my father I want to be a trader. That way, I can travel wherever I want. I still have the good luck rock you gave me. " Ian unclenched his fist and showed the treasure hidden inside. "I'm going to put it up in our new house as soon as we get where we're going."

"Don't forget, at the end of your journey, you write a letter to me and give it to Ranger Berilac. He'll bring it to me before he leaves for home."

"I promise. But my sister will have to help me with some of the big words."

"I know," Kali sighed. "That's the one thing big sisters are good for."

The two boys giggled and continued their chatting as other children came running up to join them.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth hurried over to the waiting wagons, passing out small pieces of candy to the children who'd been staying at the Inn. She was soon besieged with eager hands from all sides, and her wicker basket of candies was quickly emptied. She had one other keepsake tucked underneath her cloak: a book of tales that she had read to the children while they had been recovering at the Pony. She had quietly approached Ian and slipped the volume into his eager hands, asking him to make sure that he and Meri would share the stories with the other children, many of whom did not know how to read. He had grinned widely and promised to do that.

Andreth also made a point to speak with Kirima and wish her well. At one time, the Innkeeper had hoped that the woman would decide to make Bree her home and had even offered her a post and lodging at the Pony. Although surprised and pleased by this, Kirima had declined, explaining that she could not desert her kin and friends, not when they'd been through so much together and a happier ending seemed almost in reach. They had parted with a hug and had promised not to forget one another.

After spying Lilac seated on a log near the back of the crowd, Andreth dried her eyes and went over to her, sitting down for a casual chat. Gradually, the conversation came around to more serious matters. "I've never thanked you, Lilac, for visiting me that day. If you hadn't said something, I would still be thinking these decent people were monstors."

"My words helped. But you were willing to listen. There were many who would have tossed me out on my ear! "

Andreth laughed and squeezed Lilac's hand, then turned serious again. "Still, I can't help but wonder about what Guthwine said. That, without the raids on the farms, we wouldn't have listened to their plea. Bree only helped because we were forced into it. I don't want to think that's true, but he may be right."

Andreth's words trailed off as she looked over at her friend. The older woman shrugged her shoulders in reply, "Who can say? The Mayor and Berilac are decent folk. Perhaps if Lotar and Guthwine had come at the very beginning, there wouldn't have beed need for the raids. But I don't expect we'll ever know for sure."

Lilac gazed about the grove and smiled, "But that's not our only question without an answer. Look at your neighbors and tell me what you see."

The Innkeeper scanned her fellow Breelanders and shrugged, "Folk chatting, getting an eyeful of the refugees, and a few neighbors doing business with each other. Looks fairly normal to me, despite all the excitement."

"Aye, fairly normal. Big and little folk together...."

Andreth looked up sharply and shook her head, "You're right Lilac. This would never have happened just three months ago. Hobbits and Men standing next to each other as if it was the most normal thing in the world."

Lilac smiled, "It has become normal for Bree. But as far as I know, it's the only place where this has happened."

"And would it have happened without the threat from the bandits?" Andreth pressed.

"I've no idea, but I'm glad it did happen. It should make things easier for us in the future."

Andreth nodded her head and smiled, as she saw her son and Kali scampering off together across the grove.

[piosenniel]

Orofaniel's post - Rosie

Hedgar was now leaning on Rosie's shoulder. He was tired, but no one could really blame him; He'd been making horses of wood all day, and trying to explain to Fippi how to do it as well. "It's all in your hand, sonny" he'd said several times to Fippi's annoyance. He wasn't half as good as his old man, and probably never would be either. Rosie had tried to comfort him a little by saying that young ladies liked men that could cook, then turning her eyes towards Hedgar while he'd tried to ignore her.

"Don't you think its great how this all ended?" Hedgar said while yawning. Rosie shrugged just to get him of her and smiled gently. "Yes, I think we all managed this quite well...." she said and smiled even wider.

The wagons were now rolling towards the gate, but they weren't ready to leave yet, there were still some good bye kisses to be given out. Fippi hurried over to one of the wagons where some of the children from the Inn were sitting. Rosie recognized all of them as she came closer.

Rosie was holding two baskets in her hands with treats she wanted to give the children. She knew how much children liked cookies, and she knew these were no exceptions. "Do you all like cookies?" Rosie asked teasingly. She, of course, knew the answer. The children smiled and waited, while they muttered something to each other enthusiastically. "Then, I guess you do..." Rosie said and nodded sternly...."Too bad we haven't got any then," Fippi said sounding very disappointed, while he shook his head. (It was all an act though.) The children sank down in the wagon, seeming disappointed as well.

"Fippi!" Rosie laughed merrily. "Of course we have cookies!" She continued. The child that was sitting closest to Rosie was now jumping towards her of joy holding his hands out. "You know what...I'll give you the basket 'ere..." She said and handed him the basket. It was quite heavy actually and you could see that the little child was using some real muscles. "And you'll keep an eye on it for me....Make sure everyone gets some, alright?" Rosie said in all confidence. "Yes, mam," He said and smiled, seeming a bit proud of getting such a big responsibility as this: keeping the basket safe, and making sure that everyone got some cookies.

"Who wants to be in charge of the other basket then?" Rosie cried loudly. Some of the children were now whining after it, stretching their arms after it hoping that they'd be the lucky ones. "I believe you three are fit for the job," Rosie said and handed over the other basket. The children laughed of joy and thanked her. "My pleasure..." Rosie said and blushed. "Hope you like 'em," she added and said her good byes. "Now, children, eat as much as you possibly can..." She whispered as no one except them, could hear her. The children laughed as Rosie turned and waved. She took Fippi’s hand and left the wagon.

She then knew that they would be alright.....

“By the way….” Rosie said and turned towards the wagon once again. The children noticed this and waited.

[piosenniel]

Novnarwen's post - Hedgar & Fippi

The sweat was still running down his forehead. He had never been this productive before. This thought had been inspiring and made him feel even more eager to continue. He had been carving for the last hours, in order to make the little ones happy when they started their new life.

Fippi came running towards Hedgar. The man waved at his son, as he finished the last wooden figure, dropping it into a bag. The old Hobbit tried to follow his son, but had great difficulties running, especially now, when holding the heavy bag in his hand. Luckily, they weren’t that far away from the gates. His son eyes were lit up with excitement. “Ready?” he asked, blinking. Hedgar nodded eagerly as they started their way back down to the gates. The wagons were ready to roll out the Gate as Hedgar and Fippi approached, the father breathing heavily. He shrugged as Rosie came over, complaining about how late he was. She grinned though, as soon as he opened the bag, apparently satisfied by the job Hedgar had done.

Fippi went over to one of the children he had played with at the Inn. The child was no more than 4-5 years. His hair ran down to his ears, which stuck out from his rather round head. The boy’s eyes were lit with a fire, many of the children had shown the last day. Was it hope? Hope of something new and better. Hope of starting a new life… He made a sigh of relief as he discovered Fippi.

Hedgar looked at them for a moment, before coming over as well, lifting the child up. “You’re heavy,” he said and laughed. The child grinned, and looked into Hedgar’s bag, which Fippi now was holding. The boy laid his hands over his mouth, being surprised. He looked at Hedgar before turning again to Fippi. With laughter, he picked something up from the bag, eyes wide open. He laughed again as he held the Horse of wood and called for some other children, standing nearby. "That's yours," Fippi said, "My dad has made it. I've helped him though," he continued. Hedgar smiled at his son. "Yup, we make a great team, sonny," he said, looking at the boy who was admiring the Horse. The Hobbit urged the boy to go and find his other friends. "They should get a horse too," Hedgar told the boy and waved him off.

Moments after the rumour of the Hobbits' horses was spread and Hedgar and Fippi were overwhelmed. In the middle of the crowd of children, the two Hobbits were handing out horses of wood. As soon as they had emptied the bag, the children were off to play with them, first, thanking the two Hobbits. Hedgar was left behind with the empty bag, being stunned. He had never in his wildest dreams imagined that his horses of wood would be that popular. With this thought in mind, he tromped triumphantly over to Rosie, who looked pleased as well.

When their departure was announced, the children hurried climbing up and into the wagons. A handful of the children were holding a Horse each. This especially made Hedgar wave. First gently, then more eagerly, soon almost waving his hands off. “Relax!” Rosie said, taking her husband’s arm. Hedgar looked at her with innocent eyes, not sure what to do. “If you start waving now, you’ll make the rest of us look bad,” she said, laughing. By this, Hedgar understood. He would wait a few minutes before continuing his intense waving. Suddenly he realised, that his eagerness of waving was driven by his feelings. He could finally realise that Big Folk weren’t that bad at all, not even outlaws . . .

For a moment he stood silently watching the children and the others. What on earth had been taking him so long to understand this . . .?

[piosenniel]

Nurumaiel's post - Edmund

Edmund stood near his mother, considering gravely the events of the past few weeks. He thought of Kali, of the conies, of the sick children, and most of all his mother. He thought with great fondness and tenderness upon her in such a way that one would not believe a little boy of seven could think, but in a way that only a little boy of seven could think. He knew he had behaved terribly to her by his nasty conduct towards others, and he wished he hadn't. He loved her as dearly as a little boy could. How often he had wished he didn't have a mother, but surely he was wrong. Surely he loved her more than any other person in all Breeland and as far as the world went.

And how deeply he had loved his father. Edmund thought of both his father and his mother in the same fashion, in such a way that could not be described for only the innocent and wise mind of a child can understand such deep thoughts.

"O-oh, E-e-edmu-und!" The piercing cry reached the boy's ears and he turned to greet Kali, who was tripping towards him with a gay smile. Perched on the hobbit's shoulder was Edmund's squirrel. Kali laughed and gestured to it. "I found him scampering about and nearly getting smashed by feet," he said. "I think he's really starting to like me. He's always been friendly but he doesn't hesitate at all when I call him."

A rather painful memory had flashed through Edmund's mind. He saw himself and group of other boys forming a circle around Kali, laughing at the hobbit's vain attempts to recover his cap and calling him all sorts of terrible names. A deep crimson blush came to his face as he looked down at Kali's laughing face. He said nothing to the hobbit of what he was thinking, but merely asked him in great earnest, "Kali, are we friends at all?"

Kali nodded merrily in assent and then gave it not a second thought. "Edmund," he said in a low voice, as if confiding a great secret. "Edmund, your squirrel has a sweetheart." Edmund's eyes widened in disbelief and then he let his laughter mingle with Kali's. "Do you think she'll like us as much as he does, Edmund?"

"She'll have to learn, I guess," Edmund said. "But that means he won't be staying at my home anymore."

"I don't think your mamma would like that too much, anyway," said Kali. "One squirrel is bad enough but a whole family of the little rascals might drive her mad." He laughed again and then, looking up at Edmund with the greatest confidence and respect, he was so bold as to grasp his friend's hand. Edmund held it tightly. And so both the boy of the Little Folk and the boy of the Little Folk became best of friends, and they ran merrily off, Kali illustrating his plans to draw a family portrait of the squirrel's family as soon as there was one.

[piosenniel]

Arestevana's post

Kirima stood slightly apart from the throng of Breefolk and Outlanders at the gates of the town. She watched the bustle of activity around the wagons with a slight feeling of shock. Everything seemed to have moved so quickly since the meeting in the clearing. The acceptances of terms, the wild rush of preparations, and now the day of their departure had arrived. She found herself laughing, caught up in the infectious excitement of the children around her. They were going to a new place; a place of their own, to make a homeland of it. It would be a place to start over, to raise families and remember those who were gone, without the need for war or for fear.

Kirima recalled Andreth’s offer of a job and a place to stay at the Inn. For a moment it had tempted her, no more. She had been through too much with the other refugees to break away from them. The hardships had brought them all so close together; friends became as close as kin. There had been so many goodbyes to say, more than she had expected: Andreth, Lilac, Rudgar, the children from the town whom she had met when they came to the Inn to visit the sick outland children, and the Breefolk who had helped them. Kirima found herself being wished good fortune by townsfolk she had never met. It seemed almost unbelievable that she had once thought of these kindly, peace-loving folk as enemies.

The noise of people talking was accented by the creaks of the wagons as children jumped in and out of them. Kirima laughed, thinking that they would have to search the wagons before they left in case any of the children of the town had decided to sneak aboard. Lotar and Kandel were talking some distance away, and she walked over to join them. Lotar was smiling, and it was good to see the change in him. A change had been worked in all of them, Kirima thought. Though they would always remember those who had been killed in the raids, there was a lessening of the emptiness now. They could look toward the future, and they could see hope there.

_______________________________________________

Eruantalon's post

Smiling, Rudgar met Kirima in the streets. She bid him goodbye and he told her she was like a sister to him now. He would find a happy home here in Bree. Carts bustling in and out of the town made their way up. Everything had finally come to a close. He saw Lotar from a far and let Kirima join them. He had never reconciled with Lotar and didn’t see this as the time.” Another day” he thought to himself. People here where kinder than he had first thought. People where smiling and kind. He wanted to try and live here instead of just leave. Making his way about the hurried town he found something odd. Everyone was rushing in like a new house that was being moved into.

A cook was in his shop hurrying to try and feed people. He smelled the food and went in.

“Sir if you plan on cooking that roast right turn up the oven. But sear the roast in a pan first! You’ll want to seal in the juice so it doesn’t go dry!” Now, moving forward with his usually cocky stride. “See these herbs they should spear the meat. That way air gets in and cooks the roast faster.”

“If you know so much about food why don’t you come in here and cook! Foolish boy I have enough hungry customers and need help!”

Walking in and setting an apron on (which was old and shaggy), he then starting doing as the man said. “ I’m Rudgar sir.” He said in a quick huff. “Well I’m Baldrake.” The man replied. “Would you like a job as a cook Rudgar? It seems second nature to you. You could help me here. We’ll be needing it with all the new people here.”

“Yes sir that would suit me fine!”

Rudgar spent the evening feeding hungryy customers and grinning all the time. Thinking to himself, “I dreamed of piles of gold! Now I have piles of pans and couldn’t be happier!”

[piosenniel]

Chathol-linn's post for Harald

Harald watched the big wagons roll out. They did not carry fearsome enemies but hopeful friends. Their common interests were plain. Already he could see Telien consulting with Lotar and Guthwine about a future strengthening of the guard. The lads and lasses of both communities could contribute to the effort, because, as Guthwine had pointed out, sometimes swords were called for.

“I must be sure to reward Andreth and Lilac,” he said to Dantha, who stood nearby.

“Yes,” said she. “Lilac knows whereof she speaks.”

“And Missus Andreth showed her quality above and beyond the suspicions she rightly held,” said Harald. “She may never get over the death of her husband, but she has healed some nevertheless.”

“Speaking of changing and such, the Mayor has grown some too since the first days of autumn,” Dantha said, smiling. “Not to mention Telien. You both take your jobs seriously now.”

“I take more than that seriously,” replied Harald, taking her hand. “I take you seriously, and I have a very serious question to ask you.”

“Harald, is it what I think?” Dantha turned as pink as a rose, and she clasped his hand between her own, and kissed it.

“Perhaps, but first I must tell you something….”

“A confession?” Dantha swallowed hard.

“Well, yes, but it is not my own confession. Ahem, well.” Around them, the rumble of the wagons faded away, and people Big and Little edged away also – a bit.

“Your kindness to Willofain has not gone unnoticed. Remember when you said she reminds you of someone? A few years ago Mum went to our kin in the east – it was before the Troubles started – and she liked it so much, she said, that she stayed the whole year. Turns out, she had…well, in short, I think Willofain is my little sister.”

Dantha said nothing.

Harald dropped to his knee in front of the whole town. “I love you, Dantha, I ask you to be my wife. And I love the little one too. Can we make her a part of the family we shall have?” Then suddenly Harald ran out of breath and he could not have uttered another word for the life of him. He was glad to be already kneeling, for otherwise he would have fainted.

And then it was as if the world was swooning with him, in gladness, for Dantha was saying, “Yes, Harald. Yes to both. Yes my love.”

And around them they heard the applause of all the Breelanders.

[Taralphiel]

Lotar stood with his son at his side, watching the carts begin to roll out of the West Gate, for the site prepared for them to live. It was something he had never dreamt of seeing in his long years. That he would be so fortunate to have a second chance given him by people he did not really know. He thought all light had been lost in the world. He was happy to say he was wrong. His hand in one of his pockets, he clenched the hairpin of his wife and smiled.

'Almost too much to watch for an old grump such as ye' Kandel teased 'And you did it all on your own! I am proud Father!'

'Bah! Dont think me soft boy, Ill show you otherwise' he chuckled back, and Kandel feigned fear.

Pausing, his son said 'I look forward to a small house, and a nice garden, and woods to scour for hunting. They all seem to me childhood fancies. Now they will be real. It is a good day father'

'Aye, it is' said Lotar.

Kandel saw some of the other bandits approach them. Among them were Kirima and Soran. Grinning, they called them over, and asked of their plans when they arrived at their new home.

'The task ahead of us will not be easy, but it will be a world less difficult than the life we were living. Im sure we will be fine' said Lotar.

'That, I am certain of Father' said Kandel and clapped his father on the shoulder.

[piosenniel]

~*~ To Elvenhome ~*~