[piosenniel]

Gilly and Bird

A small flicker of hope sprang up, quickly shielded from the prying eyes of Stoatie and that despicable Shifty, who had followed in behind him, slamming the door and waking the twins. Their fussy cries built to a crescendo and Stoatie took a menacing step toward them, his hand at his knife.

‘Get ‘em, Boss!’ snickered Shifty. ‘Those brats are nothin’ but trouble for us anyways. Kill ‘em and dump ‘em on the dunghill.’ His lips creased his face in a nasty smirk as he looked at Gilly.

Bird slapped the knife from Stoatie’s hand and pushed him back hard against Shifty. ‘What’s the matter with you, you dumb sod!’ she screamed at him. She picked up one of the babies and held it up to his face. ‘This ugly little piece of Elf-flesh is our ticket out of here when the mother comes for them . . . and our heads too, I might add. She’s probably hot on your trail even now – or did one of you grow a brain between you and gave some thought to hiding your flight here?!’

Shifty looked warily at Stoatie. ‘By the One! I knew it!’ She gave Shifty a hard cuff on the ear. ‘Get us some milk for them, and make it quick. That’ll shut the little blighters up. The Shire rat here can feed ‘em.’ She glowered menacingly at Gilly, who cringed down as if Bird might decide to strike her.

‘You, too,’ growled Bird, shoving Stoatie out the door. He ran his eyes appraisingly over the small woman, an approving leer fixed on his face. ‘I ain’t got time for your calf-eyes now, Stoat. Get me someone to fetch me some water. We’re just about out of it. This place stinks and the other brats can clean it up a little so’s I can stand to be in here with them.’

Stoatie’s eyes swept about the interior of the shack and his nose crinkled in disgust as he took in the full flavor of the cottage. He winked at Bird then left the reeking room, bellowing for someone to get on it.

Bird crouched down quickly by Gilly, and nestled the baby in her arms. ‘Quickly now, before someone comes. Tell me all that you know and most important, were you able to leave word or a sign for Pio somewhere along your way of where they have taken you.’

Gilly filled her in as best she could, her knowledge, of course, limited only to what had happened to her and the twins. And yes, she had left something for Mistress Piosenniel in Buckland.

Bird listened closely, trying to figure when she could expect the arrival of the Elf. She kicked herself mentally for not polishing up those osanwë skills Pio had tried her best to teach her. At best the ability was sporadic – she never got the whole message anyone sent, and was never sure how much of hers was received. She rubbed her temples, and screwed up her face, eyes shut. Gilly was a little taken aback by the grotesque look on her face, but kept quiet.

Pio! . . . twins . . . Gilly . . . be ready . . .

Bird opened one bloodshot eye at Gilly, wincing in the dim light. She rubbed her brow and pointed to the basket that Gill had brought with her. ‘Any willow bark powder in there,’ she croaked.

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

Pio at the plantation

With the instructions from Mithadan held firmly in her mind, Pio dropped south from Buckland before heading east across the South Downs. Angling, then, a little north, she approached Ferny’s place from the south, and waited until the sun had once again dipped below the hills to the west before proceeding in the darkness. She left her horse hidden in a copse of trees and, tucking her cloak about her, went in silently to see how she might get to the cottage he had shown her.

Late yesterday she had gotten a brief message from Bird. It pierced the grim thoughts she had been having – the babies at that time were upset and frightened and had reached out for her. The thought that Bird was there comforted her somewhat. She could count on Bird to see to the safety of the twins and Gilly. But she dared not hope that could last long. She must get them out of there and soon.

The perimeter of the place was patrolled. Though, the guards did not seem all that alert, still there were a fair number of them. Many of which she could eliminate, she knew. But still she would be outnumbered. She withdrew back to where her mount was hidden.

Settling herself down to wait, she sent out three brief messages.

Bird! I am near and awaiting Mithadan.

Mithadan! There are too many here for me alone. Come quickly, bring aid. Will await your arrival.

Little ones she called more gently, your ammë is here. Sleep now. Soon I will come for you . . .