[piosenniel]

Berilac

A sizeable crowd had gathered now that the Mayor with Telien and the bowmen had arrived at the gate. They had been fearful at first, but now they looked at the happenings with frown on their faces. None could see the group gathered outside the gates, but all seemed to have their opinions.

‘Let them in,’ some cried, though they were in the minority. ‘It’s Mistress Andreth and Mistress Lilac,’ they continued. ‘Surely we can trust their judgement!’

‘Trust her to get our throats slit,’ cried a loud voice from the back. Big Tom, it sounded like. His words were echoed and heads nodded in affirmation. They had lived for so long now with the bogey man bandits frightening them in their dreams, that no amount of assurance from the Innkeeper or the old biddy, as some called Lilac, was going to allay their fears.

Telien turned and spoke to the bowmen, some of whom were Men and some were the Little Folk with their deadly accurate little bows. ‘Up to the wall, lads,’ he said in a quiet voice. Use the ladders, a few of you go up and have a look about.’ Doderic, the captain of the Little Folk stepped forward, speaking to Telien, though his eyes were on Berilac. ‘Let us go up, Master Telien,’ he said. ‘Our eyes are just as keen as those of the Big Folk, and to be honest we make smaller targets.’ Berilac nodded his agreement, as Telien ordered them up to the top of the Hedge.

The mayor by this time had gathered the two women in close to him. ‘I heard your harsh words to Master Berilac,’ he told Andreth. ‘And I must say that while I understand your concern, I will echo the Ranger’s reserve. Our first consideration is for Bree and the safety of her citizens. And once we’ve established that that need is met, then we’ll consider your request.’ The mayor continued on, even as the two women opened their mouths to speak. ‘Now having said that, I understand there is someone who will speak with us about both the sick ones you have brought with you and about the willingness of their leader to negotiate.’

Telien, by this time, had come back to stand by the Mayor and bent close to him for a moment to whisper in his ear. Harald nodded as the Captain spoke. ‘Berilac will go out to speak with Minastan,’ he said straightening up and facing Lilac and Andreth. ‘You’ll go out with him, Mistress Woolthistle, and bring in the one Lilac spoke of. The one who can speak for their leader . . . Lotar, was that his name?’

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

The Hobbit bowmen stood with grim faces on either side of the gate, their eyes set hard on the huddled group of Big Folk. And often one or another of them would sweep the distance beyond the clustered forms, trying to peer into the gathering darkness for any other Big Folk on the move.

The four that stood to either side of the gate, tracked the progress of Berilac and Andreth; watching as the Innkeeper led one of the women back to the gate. Berilac had motioned the shaggy, brown-haired bandit to one side, and stood talking with him.

One false move from those gathered beyond, and they would drop the offending Big Folk with their arrows . . .