[piosenniel]

Berilac

Berilac had gotten up long before the sun rose. He needed to get into Bree early, and was riding in with one of the farmers delivering some cheeses to the Inn.

He’d spent a very enjoyable evening with his sisters and their families. Both lived on the far outskirts of Staddle; their burrows and small holdings adjacent to each other. He hadn’t realized how much he missed his own little girl until the covey of nieces and nephews came running out to meet Griffo’s wagon as it pulled into the yard.

Cries of ‘Mommy, mommy! Look who’s here!’ mixed with the delighted laughter of the children and the Ranger as he jumped down from the wagon and scooped up an armful of children. Britnie came running out, wiping her hands on her apron. She was followed by Goldie and her husband Tomlin. The two families often spent dinner time at each others burrow, and from out the opened door came the heady scent of fried mushrooms and a savory stew.

Berilac took much good-natured abuse from his younger sisters about not coming to visit sooner, not writing more often, and why hadn’t he brought Fairlight and their niece, Alyssum. ‘I swear, Beril, she’ll be handfasting before we ever get the chance to see her!’ said Britnie, slapping him lightly on the arm. They were somewhat mollified with the small ink drawings of her and her mother he had in his chapbook.

‘Go on!’ said Griffo, as the sisters cooed over the pictures of Alyssum at various ages. ‘Go on,’ he repeated, nudging Berilac with the stem of his pipe. ‘Tell ‘em the rest of your news.’ The twins’ heads snapped around to look at their brother, expectant looks on their faces. ‘News?’ they chorused.

‘I was just easing into it,’ he said lamely, knowing he was in for it now. ‘Fairlight was in no shape to be traveling with me. Not that I would have brought her into this danger anyway.’ Britnie stood with her arms folded tight against her chest, her foot tapping ominously. He grinned up at her with devilish glint in his eye. ‘That . . . and the fact that in just a few days, you should be aunts once again!’

Just in time his keen Ranger instincts kicked in – Goldie had thrown a small pillow at his head. He ducked and it went winging past him to hit Britnie on the hip. What followed was a good-natured melee – both sisters, followed by the squealing children, fell on him wrestling him to the ground. The cooler headed husbands, knowing better than to interfere when the siblings sorted things out, sat back in their chairs, pipes in hand.

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

When Hedgar and Berilac arrived at the southern end of the Hedge, there were already ten Hobbits waiting for them. Another seven would be coming in soon, one of the men said; some were bringing wagons with large pieces of various broken items that had been put in the refuse heap and some were bringing in good-sized leafy branches pruned from the forest trees.

‘Until then,’ another Hobbit pointed out, ‘we can use these branches we gathered from the lumber miller’s place at the top of the hill.’

Berilac brought out his notebook, passing it round for all to see. The shapes and sizes of the holes were discussed, as well as what would be adequate to do the repair. The Hobbits took off their cloaks and stowed them on one of the carts. ‘Well, then,’ said one of the brawny lads, rubbing his hands together, ‘let’s get to it, men.’

Hedgar and Berilac each dragged a number of branches to the nearest hole and began to wedge them in place, working from the outside face of the hedge to the inner. The work went on apace for several hours, with additional supplies brought in as promised, and the added surprise of several of the Hobbit wives bringing down large flasks of sweet, hot tea and filling oatcakes mid morning.

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

It was nearing noon, and the Hobbits just stopping to eat the lunches they’d packed along, when Berilac excused himself from the group. ‘Just going to the Inn to get the children,’ he explained as he hurried off. ‘Reinforcements . . . be back soon!’