[Child of the 7th Age]

The ruffians moved swiftly over the gravely paths that wound through the hills north of The Water; clenched tightly in Stoatie's fist was the handle of a small pronged whip that he used to smack his horse's flanks urging him forward at a hard gallop. Stoatie also kept a close eye on Gilly registering every move she made. Whenever she threatened to lag too far behind, he reached over with his lash and snapped it across her horse's withers to be sure she kept up the pace. Although the men managed to overtake the village of Budge Ford in a little over three hours, mounting exhaustion forced them to divert off the path and lead the horses down to the stream so they could wade in and drink. All three animals stood panting in the stream, with the water rising close to their bellies and their sides heaving rhythmically in and out. The group would clearly not be able to continue this pace without stopping for a real rest.

"How much longer we got to go?" Shifty whined. "I'm achin' and hungry and half dead."

Stoatie lowered his voice and growled, "Shut yer trap. Anyways, we still gotta ways. It's another eight, nine hours to Bree."

"All the way to Bree?" Shifty interjected in an irritated voice. "But I thought....."

Stoatie cut him off. "You think too much fer your own good. Now shut yer trap or the hobbit rat will git some ideas."

Gilly was now sitting stiffly in her saddle, staring over at the ruffians with a look of undisguised disgust on her face.

"Nah," grumbled Shifty shrugging his shoulders. "She's just a dumb rat who don't know nothin'." With that the two men put their heads together and began to whisper, mulling over the details of the route.

Gilly patiently watched from the back of her horse, then slid down still holding the twins and tred warily over to the spot where the men were talking. The babies had stopped their demanding howls and were instead wimpering and looking out at the world with disaproving eyes that refused to focus. Gathering all her courage, Gilly siddled up to Stoatie and tugged insistently at his sleeve.

"Excuse me, but I hope your boss likes dead babies because that's what's going to happen soon."

"What ya talkin' about?" Stoatie glowered and peered over towards the brats.

"These babies haven't had a drop to drink for nine hours or more... "

"So what? Give 'em water!" Stoatie jerked his thumb towards the stream.

Gilly stubbornly shook her head. "Babies aren't like that. They need milk or juice. Plus I don't have any bottles. They can't drink without bottles."

The nursemaid turned away with a shrug, "It's your decision. If your boss doesn't mind dead babies, it's all the same to me. After all, one Big Folk is the same as another. I'm not going to stick my neck out." She looked around the glade and went to sit down in a patch of tall grass plucking off a few of the flowers and beginning to weave a chain of daisies.

She's lyin', Stoatie thought. But he wasn't sure. He knew very little about babies. And to tell the truth, these two looked a lot more wobbly than when he'd first seen them.

He glanced over to where the woman was seated. "So what d'ya expect me to do. I ain't got no cow or bottles out 'ere. And no hobbit is gonna welcome a man even if I was willin' to stop."

"That's not true," countered Gilly quietly, continuing to pluck daisies and carefully intertwine them. "The border towns like Stock or Rushy have been known to do business with the Big Folk for a long time, especially those that bring along a hobbit friend. The Bree merchants offload their goods there; their hobbit partners turn a pretty penny for hauling them into the Shire. If they were to see you with me, they'd just assume we were trading partners."

"If yer lyin', I'll kill you and the kids."

I'm not lying," responded Gilly as she steadily met his gaze. "We're only a few miles from Stock. The Golden Perch would have exactly what I need. But it's up to you, of course." She put her head down, stared intently at the pattern of her skirts, while continuing to braid her flowers.

"Come on Boss," Shifty pleaded. "I'm hungry as the blazes, and the horses look like they're keelin' over. Anyways, how many people will be up and about in the wee hour before sunrise?"

"All right," growled Stoatie. "But this is what we're gonna do. Shifty is gonna
stay outside hidin' with the boy brat. You make one funny move, and that's the end of 'im."

"Suit yourself," noted Gilly, casually shrugging her shoulders. "I'll just find him an extra bottle and bring it back with me."

With that, the band turned and headed for the Perch, making their way southward through the meadows of high grass. By the time they reached the outskirts of the tiny hamlet, it was still a good hour before dawn and everyone appeared to be asleep. Stoatie pulled his hooded cloak over his face and pushed open the door to the Inn. The nursemaid followed along behind holding the baby girl in the cradle of her arm and clutching the wicker handle of the diaper basket with her other hand.

[ July 02, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]