[piosenniel]

There were scuffling noises from inside the cottage of people moving about, near the door. Pio could hear the sounds of something heavy being pushed away from the door. Bird’s voice voice, muffled by the thick oak door, could be heard directing Gilly. ‘Put your shoulder to it, girl. It’s Pio out there.’ The scraping noises ceased and there came the sounds of a key being turned in the lock. Then the door was thrown open and Bird, her face drawn and grim, grabbed the Elf pulling her in to the front room.

‘Someone is trying to break in,’ said Bird hurriedly, pointing to the back room on the west side of the building. She and Gilly had pulled the children from it and barricaded the door with a chair jammed under the handle. Gilly gripped a hefty piece of firewood and stood ready to waylay the intruder should he break through their makeshift barrier. ‘He battered on the front door first and when we would not let him in,’ continued the Hobbit, ‘he must have gone round to that window on the west. We heard the sound of glass breaking in there as we bolted the door, but have heard nothing since.’

Pio could see the tired, frantic look on Gilly’s face, and how her arms trembled with fatigue and anger mixed with fear. She crouched down by Gilly and took the club from her, laying it on the floor. ‘He’s dead, Gilly. I have seen to it.’ Gilly collapsed into Pio’s arms as Bird breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the doorframe.

Cami and Ruby came running in the door just as Pio wiped the tears from Gilly’s face. ‘Bring the twins to me,’ she directed the girl, then get what you need to be on our way.

Bird crouched down and engulfed Cami in a great, fierce hug as she came through the door, which was returned in kind. The Hobbit stepped back then, the pleasure of seeing her old friend put aside for the moment, and said gently, ‘Bird, get the children gathered and let’s get out of here.’

Clapping three times, their pre-arranged signal, Bird called out to the little ones to come out from their hiding places. From behind the couch crept Tom, from Dwaling, just turned seven, and little Larkspur, his sister, well into her fifth year. Dirty and ragged, their solemn faces took in the scene before them. They glanced up at Bird, who took their little hands in a familiar way and whispered a few words of reassurance to them, then gave them over to the charge of Ruby.

From the rough cupboard that stood against the wall into the other bedroom, came Will, a sturdy eight year old from Budge Ford, crawling out on his hands and knees from the bottom compartment. He pulled himself into a low crouch, ready to run if he got the chance. Bird called his name telling him it was safe now, and to go stand with Ruby and the other two children.

Gilly uncovered the basket which held the twins, buried beneath a mound of tattered blankets and cast off clothes waiting to be mended. The babies, sensing danger, had kept quiet, awaiting the return of their mother. They fussed a little as the light from the lantern on the wall hit their eyes. Pio went quickly to them and gathered them close to her. Using one of the thin blankets, she fashioned a sling and put them both in it. They snuggled in, close against the comforting warmth of her body, and she placed her left hand comfortingly against them.

‘Is that all then?’ she asked, gripping her sword once again in her right hand, ‘Then let’s go!’

‘Wait,’ cried Cami, tugging at her sleeve and pointing to where Merimac sat dejected, his shoulders slumped, on one of the chairs . . .

[ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]