[Folwren]

‘Wren, dear,’ Cook said, as she counted the number of bandage rolls left in chest then closed its lid securely, ‘why don’t you just go out and fetch your brother. Tell him Master Meriadoc would like to speak with him.’

‘Yes, ma’am!’ Wren said over her shoulder as she turned to go out the door. She ran as swiftly as her feet could carry her to the garden behind the inn. Tim sat among the tomatoes, one arm wrapped around his knees and his other hand working faithfully away at the stubborn weeds. Wren trotted up the path and stood beside her brother, her face beaming, and her hands clasped behind her back. He knew the stance and without looking up, spoke.

‘What?’ he asked with hardly any interest in his voice. ‘You look about ready to burst.’

‘Cook says - that is, we get - I mean, Meriadoc the stablemaster wants to talk to you!’ She turned and ran off, stopping several paces away to add over her shoulder, ‘He’s in the kitchen waiting.’ Tim sat up and stared after his sister, wondering what in the world had gotten into her. With a puzzled expression on his face, he rose and followed her to where she’d disappeared inside the Inn kitchen again. He paused outside the door and brushed his hands off as best he could and then, drawing a deep breath, entered.

‘You wanted me, sir?’ he asked , approaching the hobbit who still sat by the table.

‘Are you Tim?’ Meriadoc asked, casting a critical eye over the lad. Tim, aware that he was being sized up, lifted his head a little bit and stepped towards him.

‘Yes, sir. Tim Woodlock. Wren’s older brother. She said you wanted me.’

‘Yes. Well. I’ve had something of an accident, lad,’ the hobbit said, softened somewhat by Tim’s polite address. Tim glanced at the propped foot and back at Meriadoc’s face and the stablemaster continued. ‘Cook has pressed me to get help until I am better. Your sister here says that you know a bit about horses. Rode a lot when you were at home and helped with the farmers around. What would you think of running the stables, under my watch, until I am up on my feet again?’

Tim was speechless for a moment. He searched the hobbit’s brown eyes carefully, hardly believing his ears. ‘You mean...stay here and help?’

‘Well, you’d be doing most of the work. Cook doesn’t think I can even stand up on the blasted foot!’ Tim blinked. ‘Mind you,’ Meriadoc went on before Tim could make a proper answer, ‘it’s no easy work. There are horses coming in and out of that stable constantly.’

‘Oh, yes, sir, I understand!’ Tim said, suddenly coming to himself and finding his tongue free again. His face flushed with sudden excitement and his eyes shone. ‘I would love to! If you really need me, I think I could do it. I mean, I know a lot about horses...I can brush them and saddle them, and I know how to feed them and - and clean their stalls and all that. There was a-’ but he stopped himself and started off on another track, one more fitting, he figured. ‘Thank you very much, sir. I’ll do it for you. I’m sure I can manage it. I’ll work real hard.’

Meriadoc’s face softened to something close to a smile. ‘I’m sure you will, lad. Well, Ginger’s come up with these crutches,’ he went on, looking at the unwieldy things that were propped up next to his chair. ‘Guess I’ll get used to them while I show you the rounds.’ With a bit of Tim’s help, the stablemaster got to his feet and they went out to the stables together. Wren remained in the kitchen, for the first time since her parent’s death completely excited and happy.