Bird was mollified by Pio’s declarations of innocence concerning the Star. Where had that young scamp Gamba ever come up with such a tale? And the memories of the “Cross-Eyed Corsican”, and especially of Marúk, brought a smile to her face. She hoped the Elf had given her regards to the “young” pot-boy. But then she reluctantly turned her attention back to the map. After a moment of confused puzzling, Pio had reached over and turned it “right way round” for her, but it still made little sense to Birdie.
“Pio, this map shows just a small piece of a vast country. It may serve some purpose to the local who drew it, but what help can it be to us? And these figures,“ she gestured at the stick-men with the animal heads. “they could mean anything! A representation of some outlandish gods, signs to mark a good hunting spot, even nicknames for various tribes! It does us no good at all!“
Bird slumped over the table, chin in hand, and fingered the thick, soft skin of the map. She wondered why Marúk had even bothered to trade food and drink for such a useless item. Perhaps he intended to make shoes out of the leather.
She ran her fingers lightly over the faded red lettering around the margins. “This may explain everything, if we only knew someone who could read this.”
At that moment, a crash from across the room made them all turn their heads. The companions laughed as they watched Gandalf fish around under the table and pull out a protesting Gamba by one ear. As the wizard seized the young hobbit and placed him high on the mantelpiece for safekeeping, Mith gestured with his glass towards the scene and said, “Well, if you are looking for someone with knowledge of foreign tongues; I’d put my bets on the Grey.“
[ November 23, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]
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