The Golden Perch Inn

[Glirdan]

Kár stood up as Dick went to attend to the Elf Cir. He looked over to where the three Dwarves were sitting around. "Seems like they're discussing something. Perhaps I could be of service to them?" he thought as he made his way to where they were sitting.

"Good day to you, my friends. Dick pointed all of you out to me just a minute ago. By the way, I'm Kár- Kár Oakenarrow," he said joyfully. "It seems to me that you're all discussing something. Perhaps I could be of service to you somehow?"

[Tevildo]

"Ah, Will , it is so good to see you up and about. Yes, I did go fishing but I'm afraid I can't take all the credit. Jack, the new fellow that's staying at the Inn, came down with me to the Stock Brook, and we had some marvellous luck."

"In fact, more marvelous luck than any I've had before. Actually, I found a...."

Tollers stopped in his tracks and abruptly closed his mouth. He'd come inside the kitchen to get the serving things for dinner, but all the while he was lovingly fingering the coin inside his breast pocket. Jack had warned him to say nothing about the discovery....to keep everything a secret, and maybe they could find others like it. Tollers loved secrets. That is, he loved learning about them from other people. But he had a very hard time keeping a secret on his own. It seems that whatever went into his eyes and ears ended up spilling out of his mouth, unless he was very, very careful.This time, at least for the moment, he decided to be careful.

Shifting uneasily from foot to foot, Tollers glanced sheepishly over at Will and changed his tune slightly, "That is, I found a wonderful new spot in the brook, nice cool water under a tree where the fish swim about in the late afternoon. It is a wonderful place to fish. And I'm so glad you're feeling better. How's that hand doing? But let's talk later. I need to set the table for supper."

Tollers hastily excused himself and went over to get some cutlery that needed to be laid out on the dining tables along with several baskets of bread. Just as he left the kitchen, he impulsively nabbed Jack by the shoulder, pulling him off to the side. "I can't stand it, Jack. Either, I have to show this coin to someone, or we go back and find the rest of them. This secret is swelling up inside of me, and I'm going to bust. Anyways, if we wait too long, maybe someone else will get to the coins before we do. Do you think we might go back to the Stock late tonight after everyone is in bed, and have a look about?"

One of the other servers came up to Tollers and urged him to stop dawdling and be quick with the silverware. With a helpless shrug of his shoulders, the hobbit looked back longingly at Jack, frustrated to be cheated out of an immediate answer. "Have to go now and help with dinner, but let me know what you think as soon as you can."

As Tollers left the kitchen, he balanced the cutlery and bread baskets with one hand, while fingering the coin in his pocket with the other. It was very much on his mind.

[Noinkling]

‘Well, there goes the nap!’ thought Bívor to himself as the Dwarf approached. He settled himself back in his chair, motioning for Bávor to sit back down.

‘Master Oakenarrow!’ Skirvir stood up from his chair and reached over to pull out the other chair at their table. ‘Skirvir,’ he said by way of introduction, indication himself as he gestured to the empty seat. ‘And this is Bívor and his younger brother, Bávor.’

‘Yes, please, have a seat, won’t you. Kár, isn’t it?’ Bávor smiled genially at the newcomer. He turned in his seat and motioned for one of the servers. ‘Another pitcher of ale, please.’

Bívor looked at Kár, wondering at his offer of service. Was there something Kár knew? Of course not, you’re being silly! he told himself. None but the three of them knew of their underlying plans.

‘Where have you traveled from, Kár?’ Bávor asked, pouring a round of ale from the new pitcher. ‘We’re heading eastward, toward the Blue Mountains. We’ve heard, even in The Lonely Mountain, that there are interesting caverns to be seen beneath them. Carved out long ago,’ he paused for a moment. ‘Perhaps by some of our fathers’ fathers and before.’

[Mithalwen]

" .. pilgrims, and not lively... This Inn, though, seems like a fine place to stay a while. .......I have some skill with music and would be happy to earn our keep by entertaining your other patrons, if you are agreeable to that?"

His sister's words drifted into his ears and were enough to pause his maudlin reverie. Indeed they were striking enough to prompt a change in behaviour that would have startled anyone who had observed his statue like attitude of moments before. The boy Cir, set down his beer and was at his sister's side in an instant speaking very swiftly in their own tongue.

"Cir, what are you doing? We can't stay here! A few hours is one thing but they will miss us if we aren't back tonight let alone for a few days!!! They will be so cross - and I think Ada will kill us when he finds out ...and maybe Mithalwen won't have us and then what will we do? - and anyway we don't have any instruments with us - or anything really". All their possesions save those stowed in pockets or at their belts were back at Woodhall.

[Kath]

“What sort of music are you and your brother capable of?” Dick had asked, almost eagerly. “We haven’t had a bit of lively music in this place for some time. It would be an excellent way to pass the evening! I think that’s doable. How long do you intend on staying?”

Cir had opened her mouth to reply but was immediately interrupted by her brother, who had finally decided to join in the conversation, though it was clear that he wasn't pleased by it.

"Cir, what are you doing? We can't stay here! A few hours is one thing but they will miss us if we aren't back tonight let alone for a few days!!! They will be so cross - and I think Ada will kill us when he finds out ...and maybe Mithalwen won't have us and then what will we do? - and anyway we don't have any instruments with us - or anything really."

Dropping back into Sindarin as well Cir flashed an apologetic smile at Dick and set about reassuring her brother.

"Cir, don't panic ok? So they'll be a bit cross, they know we're old enough to look after ourselves, and that we'll look after each other. Ada may never find out, the pilgrims won't be returning for a long time and they're not about to send a messenger back to him just because we disappear for a couple of days! As to Mithalwen, I've heard tales of her adventures that make ours pale in comparison, I'm certain that she will still have us."

Seeing that Cir was swaying she played her ace, knowing a little guilt trip was just the thing to keep her brother on side.

"Anyway, you can go back if you want but I'm staying here, and if Ada finds out that you left me all alone in a strange place, well ..."

Scowling at her for the low blow Cir nodded his acquiescence to that, but repeated his point about the lack of instruments, refusing point blank to sing. He said that it was due to knowing no appropriate songs, but Cir was privately sure that his voice having broken relatively recently had a lot to do with.

"Well you're in luck!" She said triumphantly, pulling on a rope around her neck until a wooden instrument emerged from her garments. "I have here a pipe whistle that you can use to accompany me."

Having dealt with Cir's objections she turned to Dick and switched back to the Common tongue in order to finally answer his question.

"We will only be staying a few days, just until we have to continue on to our aunt's, and we are capable of any music you like, though if you want something more than a simple tune we will need to beg some instruments from you, if that's possible, and if you wish for tunes that we do not know you will have to teach us them first!"

[Envinyatar]

It had been Shanks’ mare for him, and a fast pace at that, to make it to the eastern edge of the Green Hills. There had been some tales, some whisperings of men moving in small groups through the wooded hill country. Ruffians some had named them; though, for the most part it was from their appearance that the name came and not from any base action on their part.

‘Yet . . .’ is how his fellow Ranger had put it, though, at the end of their discussion. ‘They are moving eastward; a trickle now. But even a small rill flows to the larger river and there to whatever sea draws it.’

The discussion had been brief, information passed on from one to the other. And another day would be passed on again to other ears to carry forward. Whatever the source, the course, the destination, keen eyes and sharp ears would seek them out until their purposes be well known.

-¤-

Supper was already being served when Hithadan made it back to the Perch. He stopped at the well, washing the road’s dust from his face and hands. There was a pleasant breeze that dried the damp from him as he walked toward the door. He stomped the dirt from his boots before he entered and pushed his cloak behind his shoulders. Out of habit he paused in the shadows of the entryway and glanced quickly about the room. The tension in his shoulders that he’d carried from his earlier meeting was eased by the bright light of the common room; the merry rise and fall of voices; the ordinary, familiar faces of customers and those who served them.

They were the faces of those who felt safe in their daily routine; who knew nothing of comings and goings. And for my small part, may they stay so…

Hithadan spied a table nestled out of the way in one of the corners. He made his way to it, his eyes flicking here and there as if expecting some face he had not yet found.

[Dimturiel]

Meliot's eyes shone at the thought of finding such a treasure. Why, if she did, she would then be the geatest topic of discussion in all the inns of the Shire and even beyond it, if the treasure was one worthy of interest. Of course, the finding would also generate many malicious gossips from the envious ones, but Meliot did not care much about that. She knew how to deal with gossipers.

Yet looking at the map, Meliot realised that there was not much hope in finding the treasure. The map looked, as Rowan had said, as if it had been made by a child. No doubt it had been made like this deliberately as a protection against anyone that found it and realised what it was. But even if they could read the map, there was still another problem. Meliot had to voice her fears aloud to her friend.

"Maybe we could read the map," she told Rowan, "but it would take too much time and the owner would soon find out about its dissappearance. And also, there is something else. The place on the map may not be in the Shire. Who knows in what forsaken land was the treasure found? What would we do then?"