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‘You can sit up here with me, Miz Tunnelly.’
Madoc jumped down from the wagon’s seat and took the pack from Estelle Tunnelly. He had seen her come trudging up the lane. Her raven locks were streaked with silver and glinted in the pale early morning light. She pulled her cloak close about her thin frame as she trudged determinedly through the snow, and her breath, misty white in the frigid air, wreathed her head in a ghostly manner.
With a smile of gratitude, she handed over her pack, watching as he stowed it securely just behind the long wooden seat of the wagon. ‘I’ll just keep this at hand,’ she said as he offered to put her bow with it. ‘Never know when it might come in handy!’ Madoc gave her a hand up to the seat and bade her pull up the large, thickly padded quilt his Ma had sent with him. ‘Enough for the both of us,’ he grinned as he pulled part of the quilt over his legs.
He saw a familiar mop of red curls come running down the icy path, slipping and sliding. It was Gorbadic, his pack banging against his back as he hurried along. ‘Wait up, cousin! I’m going, too!’ His steamy breath coming hard from his run, Gorbadic leaned against the wagon for a few moments, then threw his pack into it. ‘I’ll just tramp along for now,’ he said. ‘When my legs get tired, I’ll hop in back for a bit.’
In the distance, Madoc could just make out another figure trudging along. ‘Cedric!’ shouted Madoc, waving at the approaching Hobbit. ‘Good to see you!’ Madoc grinned at his new acquaintance. ‘Throw your pack in the back, there. And come on up if you want.’ Miz Tunnelly smiled down at Cedric, indicating there was plenty of room and quilt if he wished.
The crunch of iron bound wheels against the hard packed snow and ice heralded the approach of yet another fellow traveler . . .
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