[piosenniel]

At least they were done riding. Gilly was thankful for that. She and the babies had been shoved into a small cottage that stood at the far end of the plantation. Run down from the outside, it was hardly better on the inside. It was filthy, the windows all painted over and nailed shut, affording them no fresh air for circulation or any light save the single lantern that was on briefly at night, or so she had been told. Some sunlight filtered in through the thin layer of paint, but it only succeeded in making the interior seem gloomier and dirtier than if light had been allowed through.

Scattered about on the floor were several dirty mattresses, with only thin, raggedy blankets thrown on them. Two Hobbit children were sitting on one of the mattresses when she was roughly pushed in through the door, and they looked up at her, quickly averting their eyes as if she might have been sent to hurt them. On one of the other mattresses sat a small, dirty boy she was sure she knew. He looked up at her boldly, wiping his runny nose on the ragged sleeve of his shirt. She sat down next to him, and leaned in close, ‘Fosco?’

There was a noise at the door, someone turning the key and coming in. Fosco looked at Gilly and put his fingers to his lips. ‘Pretend you don’t know her when she comes in,’ he said to her, in case one of the other bad men is with her. ‘Who?’ whispered Gilly.

Bright light spilled in through the open door, partially blinding Gilly as it hit her eyes. Blinking a few time to clear her sight, she dared a look at the two Big Folk who entered. One was Stoatie, who glared at her as he spat on the floor. Gilly gasped when she recognized the other one. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, and lowered her eyes to the the floor.

It was Mistress Piosenniel’s friend who had just sauntered in. Bird!