On Patrol (Continued from Let's Go to the Prancing Pony)

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel and Estelarion, however, had gone down for breakfast early. Now, they sat in their room, talking, until they heard their names being called.

"Better go!" Estelarion said, smiling. They grabbed their gear and ran out of the room to where the voices came from.

[piosenniel]

Bethberry's door slightly was open when she came to it. She rapped lightly and then opened it.

She heard two voices, speaking quietly, and saw the still fitfully sleeping form of Bird lying on the bed.

Her friend was pale, her face grimacing at times as some bad dream played beneath her purpled eyelids. She pushed back a lock of Bird's lank hair that had fallen across her face, and stroked her cheek, willing her back to consciousness and health. 'How did she do for you?' she asked Bethberry, turning toward the tired woman.

Bethberry quietly filled Holly in on her concerns. 'I suppose it will be like my mother used to say when we were sick and she had dosed us with medicines and poultices.' said Holly,taking in all that Bethberry had done for Bird.

Bethberry waited for her to finish the thought.

'It's Tincture of Time, now that will be the best medicine.', she said.

Holly pulled the covers straight over Bird, and lifting her head, turned the pillow for a fresh side.

'Would you like me to watch for a while, while you freshen up and change clothes?' she offered Bethberry. 'Perhaps you and Naaramare can go down and get some breakfast then. I'll stay here with her.'

[piosenniel]

Olo grabbed some bread and cheese and another mug of tea and headed for the stable.

The great black was standing by Peri's stall, and both were looking wishfully at the hayloft, hoping some might fall their way.

The hobbit broke a bit of bread off his loaf and offered it to the pony, who took it delicately from his outstretched hand. The great black looked askance at Peri, expecting him to suffer some ill effect from the offering. But, there was that brainless pony nudging the creature for more, which he received.

'Would you like some, Mr. Midnight, sir?' asked Olo. The horse shook his head and backed up nervously at the outstretched hand. 'Well, I'll just set it here, then and you can get it if you like.' He placed it on the edge of a railing in an empty stall.

Peri nudged him, once more, and Olo laughed. 'Now you just hang on a bit. I'm going up to the loft to toss down some hay, and then I'll get you two a nice helping of mash.'

He looked back once toward the horses as he climbed the ladder to the loft, just in time to see Midnight thoughtfully chewing on the scrap of bread.

Once the horse and pony were fed, Olo mucked out the stall and spread fresh hay on its floor. He filled the trough with fresh water, and refilled the manger with hay for later.

One of the stable boys came in, and showed him where he might find the equipment for grooming the two.

'Come, on you two.' he called to them once he had gathered up the tools. 'It's a glorious day outside, let's go make you both as handsome as we can!'

Starting first with Peri, he combed out the rough spots and the burrs from his coat, main and tail. This was followed by a vigourous brushing which brought out the shine to his coat. He trimmed the mane and tail, and brushed them til they fell into place like bright satin. The final step was inspecting the hooves, filing down the rough edges, and then blacking and polishing them til they shone. Peri pranced and tossed his head after the grooming, thinking he looked quite grand.

He walked about the black horse, taking his measure. 'Well, you look pretty handsome for someone who's come through some rough patches as you must have. Someone's done you up fairly recently, but I think we could get you looking like the lead horse in battle . . . if you'll let me work with you, eh?' The hobbit stood waiting for the horse to indicate his agreeability. Midnight stood for a moment looking back at Olo. Then moved a few steps closer and took in his scent with his sensitive nostrils. He bowed his head once, and then nudged the hobbit in the back.

'Alright, then!' said Olo, softly to him. 'Let's get to it!'

He worked slowly and gently on the great steed. Buffing his coat, tail and mane until he gleamed like a polished opal. Finishing up with the hooves he stepped back, and looked at his work admiringly. 'You're a handsome one. Mr. Midnight!' You'll have to run when the girls see you!'

He let the two amble about the outside stable area - munching at grass and occasionally chasing each other. Olo sat down beneath the shade of a large tree and lit up his pipe, and watched the two creatures enjoy themselves until he felt his stomach tell him it was time for lunch.

[ July 26, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Birdland]

Birdie was feeling VERY comfortable. the myriad potions and herbs that Bethberry had administered to the bruised and battered skin-changer had had the desired effect, and despite disturbing dreams and broken sleep, Birdie was feeling very relaxed and comfortable.

But all the potions and herbs in Middle-Earth could not control the gnawing sense of guilt that Bird was feeling. She had destroyed, (all right: ATE!) something that she felt was important. How important she had no idea.

Neekerbreeker was the first and oldest of the skin-changer's forms, something she had first assumed when she was but a child. She was comfortable in that form and knew it well. But all skin-changers take on not just the physical aspects of the shape they morph into. They also knew that the spirit of the form would blend with their own spirit. It could never be totally controlled by the skin-changer's own personality.

Insects are without conscience. They simply ARE, guided by their instincts and desires in ways that other, more advanced creatures could supplement with their minds and hearts. Bird would never have thought to destroy an important missive in the possession of a Ranger while in human form; if only to avoid the wrath of the said Ranger. But as Neekerbreeker, she had only seen an inviting feast, and had acted accordingly.

She sat up in bed, still feeling the vague, drug-clouded aches of her injuries, and addressed the healer and Hobbit who had watched over her so carefully:

"Bethberry? Holly? I think I have done a bad thing."

[ July 25, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Orofacion of the Vanyar]

"Good morning Master Gardener," Arcon said as he came walking down the path with Getathane behind him. The elf's horse was walking briskly, his injury had healed well over night. "You do quite a good job in the grooming of horses I see," Arcon said watching Midnight and Peri grazing peacefully infront of them, their coats and manes shining in the morning sun. "Perhaps you could give Getathane a trim next time, I've already cleaned him up a bit earlier this morning."

Taking the bit out of Getathane's mouth, Arcon let the horse run freely for awhile. "May I join you?" Arcon asked.

[ July 25, 2002: Message edited by: Orofacion of the Vanyar ]

[piosenniel]

Olo moved over a bit and made room for the elf to sit in the shade.

'Would you care for a pipeful?', said the hobbit, offering him his pouch of Southern Star. Olo refilled his pipe and leaned back against the tree. He watched the elf-steed as he ran with the other two. There was a bit of a rivalry he could see going on between Midnight and Getathane, but Peri soon put an end to that when he nipped them both in passing on their hindquarters and they both began to chase him. Growing tired of this game, the three of them slowed to a walk and then a mere amble from one grass clump to another.

'Begging your pardon, Arcon,' said Olo, breaking their companionable silence,'but are you travelling with the older fellow and his companions?'

The elf nodded his head, indicating he was.

'Well, I understood from Mr. Gandalf that you all were to go to some sort of meeting with him today. He asked me to groom Midnight for him, which I've got done as you can see. So, if you'ld like to leave Getathane with me this afternoon I'd be glad to get him groomed and trimmed, and see to his hooves. That one there on the right front needs a bit of filing down on one side.'

Arcon watched his horse as Olo pointed out the slight irregularity to his gait caused by the offending hoof.

'What say we get some lunch. I'm feeling a little hungry. You can tell me then if you've time for me to do your horse and what you'ld like done.'

[piosenniel]

Holly looked at her friend closely. Was this a potion induced bad dream or something approaching truth that Bird was saying? She had said many strange things during the night. But this time her eyes were focused and she seemed in some real mental distress about the problem. So Holly took her at her word.

'Well, then, Bird ' she said, 'what have you done this time? And is there any hope in Middle-earth that we can fix it before it's all gone sour?!'

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry looked at Birdie's face. It wasn't flushed; she didn't have a fever. Perhaps this was something best discussed between friends.

Indeed, I think you are right, Holly. It's best for you two to talk between yourselves. Naaramare, will you join me for breakfast? I, for one, would really relish some fresh coffee and hot buns with jam.

Naaramare and Bethberry wound their way down the hall and staircase to the Great Hall, where breakfasts, both light and hearty, first and second, were served. Afterwards, Bethberry was grateful for a bath which drove away the last vestiges of sleepiness. She hoped there was time for a quiet walk to the Brandywine before Gandalf's meeting with the Ranger.

[ July 26, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Birdland]

Birdie confessed: her face getting hot with embarassment as she recounted to Holly what she had done while in the Ranger's satchel.

"I think he was rather upset, Holly. I mean, more upset than just getting a nip from a Neekerbreeker, if you take my meaning. I may have eaten something important. But I really don't know HOW important!"

"Well, didn't you read it?" asked Holly

NO!" protested Birdie. "I didn't go into that Ranger's bag to spy. I went in to escape that driver's hand trying to flatten me! And then because the parchment smelled so good - at least to a Neekerbreeker. Even if I had wanted to read it, it would have been impossible. The satchel was dark, and the scroll still tightly rolled."

Bird covered her face with her hands and shook her head "Oooooooh, I'm in so much trouble! "They say 'never meddle in the affairs of wizards...', but 'meddling' in the affairs of Rangers has to be just as bad!"

Holly sat back and rolled her eyes. She had to admit, this was pretty bad. Holly remembered the insistance of the Ranger when he found Olo and herself outside the inn. Something was up around here, that was certain, and Birdie's 'theft' may have effected those plans. Not a good situation for a skin-changer who tried her best to stay out of the way of the more lofty (and dangerous) denizens of Middle Earth.

"So do you think he knew that the "Neekerbreeker" in his bag wasn't actually a Neekerbreeker?"

"Noooo...I don't think so. How could he? Unless he saw you coming to my rescue when I was under the steps, and can put two and two together." The thought that the Ranger might associate Holly with Bird's latest "adventure" made the Hobbit tinker shift uncomfortably in her seat.

But then her "hobbit sense" took over again. She let out her breath with a "whooosh", slapped her hands on both knees, and stood up. "Well, there's nothing to be done for it now. Perhaps you ate nothing more important then his shopping list for the greengrocer. It's a new day, and we'll find out soon enough just what up around here. Or perhaps we won't. But for now, Periwinkle needs checking on, and I smell breakfast cooking in the common room. Would you like me to bring you a tray?"

"No," said Birdie with a pitious tone. "I may never eat again." Then she hesitated and admitted "Though the coffee does smell mighty good."

[ July 26, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Orofacion of the Vanyar]

"Lunch!?" Arcon laughed, "Surely, the little-folk indeed move quickly through their many meals of the day. Of course I will join you, though it will be breakfast for me I'm afraid." Hobbit and elf walked back to the inn, into the dining area where the smell of breakfast floated throughout the room.

They sat at a small round table off to the side. A servant brought out fruits, a large loaf of bread, and honey and butter for spread. "To drink?" the servant asked.

"Coffee, and black as the night," Olo replied.

"Water please," Arcon said nodding.

As the two ate, Arcon spoke up, "So you'd like to give Getathane a trim eh? Well I'm sure that will do quite nicely," the elf went on as the servant brought out their drinks. "But tell me Olo, where did you learn such mastery in the grooming of horses? That is not a local trade in such a desolate region."

Just then Bethberry and Naaramare came down the stairs, fresh and ready for the new day, and the council with the Rangers. "Just a second Olo," Arcon said as he beckoned Bethberry and Naaramare to join Olo and him. "I'm sorry Olo, please continue," Arcon said apologetically.

[Naaramare]

Reflecting that the day was starting very oddly, and wondering about Bird, Naaramare gratefully accepted Arcon's invitation to sit, her stomach reminding her that she'd barely picked at her last meal and that had been several hours ago, thank you very much.

"Good morning," she murmured, smiling and looking quizzically at the new hobbit.

[piosenniel]

Olo stood as Bethberry and her elf companion joined them at the table. 'Pleased to meet you, ma'am.' he said to the elf as she sat down. 'I'm Olo Gardener, from Michel Delving. I don't believe I've had the honor of being introduced to you.'

Bethberry made the introduction, while Arcon called for a fresh pot of coffee and a full plate of new baked buns. Olo passed the jam pots to the ladies, and a comfortable silence fell while they enjoyed the morning offerings.

Sitting back in his chair, Arcon recalled the question he had earlier put to Olo.'Tell me Olo,' he asked again, ' where did you learn such mastery in the grooming of horses? That is not a local trade in such a desolate region.'

'Well, sir,' said the hobbit, 'I come from a large family - the youngest of seven boys. We had a fair sized farm and kept horses and ponies as working animals. It was my part to keep them fed and groomed and see to their health needs. It seems I had a talent for handling such spirited creatures, and to be honest, I get as much from working with them as they get from me.' He paused and refilled the drinks of his table mates. 'And then, of course, there were the travellers and traders that would come through our way, many of them needing their horses cared for before the next leg of their travels would begin.' He rubbed his palms over one another, recalling the horses that had passed beneath them. 'Ah, yes, many a fine horse have I had the pleasure of working with.'

He rose from his chair, again, as Bethberry asked to take her leave. The elves had fallen to talking between themselves, and he excused himself, to go back to the stable. He had the elven horse to see to, and after that perhaps a walk by the river to do some thinking.

[ July 26, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Holly went down to the kitchen to return the timer and thank the cook. She begged a tray from her with a pot of coffee, thick cream, sugar, two mugs, a small loaf of bread, and some cheese.

Returning to Bethberry's room, she set the tray on the bedside table and pulled up a chair. She cut off Bird's protestations that she really wasn't hungry and gave her a small wedge of cheese and a piece of the loaf.

'Get some real food in your stomach, before you drink the coffee.' she admonished the protesting Bird. 'Honestly, I don't see how you've managed to even keep your stomach from rotting away with some of the stuff you put into it!'

The chastised Bird nibbled on the bread and cheese, and then took a large gulp of coffee.

'Listen,' said Holly, rubbing her chin, 'I've been giving some thought as to what we can tell the others about your injuries. It's obvious we can't give them the neeker-breeker story, so - let's say we had a plan to get you to stay the night in my room without you being charged for it. We can hint that you fell out of the tree near my window when you misjudged the distance from the nearest branch to my sill. If we're vague about it all, and don't get entangled in too many details, it should hold up.'

Holly poured another mug of coffee for herself and stirred in some cream and sugar. She watched the cream swirl in spiral patterns with the motion of the spoon. 'Oh, and one other thing - we know nothing
about any shredded letter. Confessing to the deed will not bring it back.' She took a sip of the hot brew. 'The Ranger will have to deal with that problem.'

[ July 26, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf, the last one down to the breakfast table, enjoyed a breakfast of eggs, ham, buns with elderberry jelly, and sassafras tea. After everyone had settled their accounts with the Innkeeper for room and board, all those attending the Council of Rangers at Sarn Ford made their way to the prearranged cabin. *

* The cabin was a homey wooden shelter. Travellers of good will were welcome to lodge in it for the night. As long as they cleaned up after themselves, didn't steal the towels, blankets, kettles, or other cooking supplies, and replenished the supply of water and firewood before they left, all were welcome. *

* The cabin was not plainly visible from the road ... you had to know how to identify the shortcut if you were ever to find the overgrown footpath submerged under several inches of water that led back through brambly thickets with grass up to your knees were you an Elf or tall Man. The grass rose deeper, were you a Hobbit. Gandalf had stopped before a section of green that looked on first glance just like all the surrounding sections of green, nodded his head, exhaled a mouthful of pipeweed smoke from the leaf Bethberry had given him the night before, and proclaimed it the shortcut. *

* The outside of the cabin was ringed all around by oak trees, blackberry and raspberry bushes, white and purple phlox, and yellow snapdragons strewn about with an inviting wildness. The interior of the cabin was comfortably dark and cool, smelling of wood and coffee and beeswax candles which some kind soul had left to replace the lower grade tallow. Logs were strewn around for benches, into which passing Dwarven merchants had carved sweeping designs (and sometimes runes denoting their initials) with a charming rustic artistry. *

* Eleven rangers were present to meet Gandalf and his companions. Agluchel was among them, smiling weakly and casting small glances at the floor, letting others do the talking. Introductions were made. Mugs of coffee were passed around. There were several pairs of raised eyebrows among the rangers on seeing so many people coming in the door with Gandalf who seemingly had nothing to do with the Council Meeting ... and one of them a Hobbit, no less! ... Arcon, being an expected and invited guest, received a duly cordial welcome in keeping with his being well known among the rangers. *

"Before we get started on the business at hand," Gandalf began, turning to Agluchel, ... "I believe you have a letter to pass into my safekeeping?"

* Agluchel blanched, and though a ranger, couldn't keep from trembling. * "Master Gandalf, I was told by Master Elrond himself to guard the letter with my life. I ... do not have the letter. Something has eaten it, I fear. Some insect during the night, same one that bit me, must've been."

* Gandalf, who'd been standing, dropped his pipe and sank down heavily onto one of the benches as if he'd been punched in the gut. His face turned as white as Agluchel's. The wizard placed his head in his hands, closed his eyes, took a few sharp breaths. * "That letter is irreplaceable. It dealt with White Council business. That bug must have been a servant of the Enemy, like the crebain that followed us on our way here. Why, had I that foul insect within my reach, I'd squash it into the ground so thoroughly with my heel that the tread of my footprint would remain sealed there until the end of the Age!" * Gandalf's voice rose dangerously at the end, but then he fell silent, into the deeper silence of the rest of the gathered assembly who stared in shock. *

* Agluchel winced, as if expecting lightning to tear through the roof and into his anguished heart. *

[piosenniel]

Holly was so tired she could barely see the nonexistent path that Gandalf was leading them on. Now, here they were, in the midst of grass practically up to her neck. And muck, squishing uncomfortably between her toes. She longed for the comforts of a dark room and a clean bed and just two or three more hours of blesséd sleep.

Relief flooded over her as she caught sight of the cabin. She blinked the sunlight from her eyes as she entered, accustoming her eyes to the dimness of the interior.

'AAh! A bench!' she sighed to herself and sat down on the one by the front window. Someone, a Ranger, came up to her and offered her a mug of the good, strong coffe whose aroma permeated the room. Accepting it gratefully, she sipped it slowly, willing its promised energy into her.

Glancing about the room, she counted eleven Rangers. 'Interesting! I don't think I've ever seen so many gathered in one place. I wonder what this meeting is about? With so many Big Folk here, I wonder why I was needed?' She decided to just sit quietly and learn as much as she could.

She could just hear a Ranger and Gandalf discussing some opening business about an expected letter, when she saw the Ranger go pale and say something in an apologetic tone. The blood drained from Gandalf's face and he seemed quite taken aback. The hobbit thought to creep closer to hear more clearly, but Gandalf's voice rose, and the hair on her scalp prickled from the force of his voice raised loud in anger.

"That bug must have been a servant of the Enemy, like the crebain that followed us on our way here. Why, had I that foul insect within my reach, I'd squash it into the ground so thoroughly with my heel that the tread of my footprint would remain sealed there until the end of the Age!"

In the awful silence of the room, the sharp intake of breath from the hobbit was quickly followed by the crash of her mug to the floor.

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry calmly handed Holly a towel to mop up the spilt coffee, and a bin for the broken pieces of stoneware, one or two of which she picked up herself.

Gandalf, surely as The Shire is often overlooked by those who seek power, so too would such a small creature as this be an unlikely pawn of an Enemy. No doubt it was simply following its way, satisfying its hunger and protecting itself.

Let not your anger wreck vengeance, but rather seek ways to redress the loss. Could the path be retraced and a second letter sought? Or now must our steps be sent a different way, not to Tharbad?

As she spoke, Bethberry lit two of the beeswax candles. Their scent spread a sweet aroma through the air and their light illuminated the dark walls of the cabin, shining off spider webs in the corners even.

[ July 30, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[piosenniel]

Bird had not gone with the others to the meeting with the Rangers. Her injuries had kept her abed . . . at least until Bethberry got back to check on the progress of her recovery. She was tired of lying in bed and fretful at being all alone.

A knock at the door broke the path of her thoughts. 'It's open!' she croaked, through her still sore throat.

Olo stood at the doorway, large tray covered with a clean white cloth balanced on his right hand, and a flask secured in his left.

'Begging your pardon, Miss Bird', he said as he entered and placed the tray on the table near Bird's bed, 'but Miss Holly asked that I made sure you got something to eat for your lunch.' He took the cloth from the tray, revealing fresh rolls from the kitchen, along with slices of rich, yellow cheese, and smoked ham, thinly sliced, from a neighboring farm. Some pickles and a small jar of the cook's special mustard rounded out the main part of the meal. There were also a small cluster of chilled, sweet grapes and thin ginger cookies for her sweet-tooth.

Bird clapped her hands in delight, an action which she immediately regretted as her bruised arms protested.

'Oh, and yes,' he said, 'here's something to wash it down with.' He unstoppered the flask, and the enticing smell of spiced wine permeated the room. Forks, knives, plates, and cups were brought in by the kitchen boy who had followed Olo up the stairs.

Bird popped a few grapes in her mouth and motioned for Olo to pull up a chair and join her. He poured her a cup of wine and toasted her return to health.

Well into the meal, Bird looking relaxed and approachable, he leaned forward and regarded her. 'Might I ask you a question, Miss Bird?' he said.

She shook her head 'yes', and munched on a cookie, occasionally dipping it into the wine.

'Well, I understand from Miss Holly that you and she have been friends for sometime.' Another nod of the head encouraged him on. 'Do you think you could see your way to telling me a little about her? She seems very well-travelled . . . for a hobbit.'

He leaned back in the chair, sipping on his cup of wine, and awaited her reply.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Somewhere in the distance came the sound of ceramic shattering and smithereens scudding to a halt. Then came the healing flowing lilt of Bethberry's words, and at this, Gandalf raised his head and answered at last. *

Well now, better that the letter's fallen into the wrong stomach, than into the wrong hands. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

* The hush dispelled, people resumed taking their seats, with shufflings of booted feet and brief pleasantries exchanged among rangers from neighboring vicinities creating a gentle murmuring music, like a fresh tide coming in after a sudden change in the wind. *

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Podo Cotton hummed to himself as he walked to the stable after a satisfyingly late second breakfast. It was getting towards lunch time, but Podo didn't want to spend ALL his profit on meals at the Trade Inn of Sarn Ford. (Which is why he unobtrusively snatched a handful of ham and cheese from the large silver tray of a passing gentle-Hobbit who was climbing up the stairs just as Podo was coming down.) He'd lick the stray bits of mustard from his fingers once he'd secured the money-box in his pony cart and gotten underway. *

* Entering the stable, Podo saw a pony cart similar to his with a charming freshly-groomed pony. Nearby were two tall, gleaming steeds ... both noble-looking, though the black had a curious fire in his eyes. Podo greeted his own brown pony with a cheery wave and a "Hullo Hardwin!" Seeing hay scattered around in neighboring mangers and water in neighboring troughs, Podo filled Hardwin's manger and trough with this nearby supply of food and drink, setting his latched wooden box in the back of his cart. *

* The other pony and the civilized-looking steed gave short whinnies of displeasure, pacing back and forth a few steps. The black horse whinnied as well, then strode forth to Hardwin's trough and took a long drink before moving to Hardwin's manger and helping himself to its hay. *

[ July 31, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Birdland]

Birdie put her feet up on the table and waved the hand holding the ginger cookie in the air. "Holly Stoor the Tinker Lass? Now there's a tale. Not many halfling ladies would do the things that dear Holly has done."

"Her dad and ma had a little store in some backwater little hamlet in the South Farthing...Hiccup?...Pinesup?..."

"Pincup." corrected Olo gently

"Aye! That's it. Pincup. Well, when Holly's ma and dad passed on, Holly had the store for her own. But as is often the case, her family didn't actually own the building where the store was at. It was on the land of some folks called the Sacksville-Baggins. A grasping group of kinfolk who apparently own half the farthings, and are working on the other half."

"So one day their son and heir comes riding up on his pony and announces that the family plans to raise the rent on the sorry little place. Now of course, Holly was barely making ends meet with her little business, and of course, that weasely son was willing to negotiate, seeing as he had had his eye on our Holly for some time."

"Well, Holly seemed to be in a fix: either take up with that scheming Sacksville-Baggins, or close shop and go live off the kindness of distant relations. But since neither of these things suited Holly's nature, she chose a third way. She threw the key in that boy-o's face, and told him to take his building and to the Void with him."

Olo laughed uproariously at this part. "So she took to the road, did she?"

"Ai-ya, packed up what little stock she had on that pony of hers and took to the tinkering life. Hasn't done badly at it, and she travels quite freely around the Westlands; that is, in the areas where it's not too dangerous to go."

Bird reached for another cookie and poured another glass of wine. "Now you'll also notice that Holly is a right-fair limner. Has been since she was a small lass. She could probably do a lot better with her drawing then her tinkering if she tried, but aside from the odd inn sign or baby portrait, she doesn't get much work in that line. People who have the silver pennies for a good cooking pot seldom have the extra scratch for a drawing, no matter how good."

"I suppose she could go to a larger town or city, and work her craft there." said Olo

"Well, Elves and Dwarves pretty much have the market in those places. People in those large cities want art, they'll say: 'I want something Elven' or 'Get me a dwarf smith!' Not many of them are looking for Halfling handiwork, though I'd hold Holly's art up against any of those other races."

"So there you have her tale. I've known Holly for a few years now, having met her through my own wanderings. A better friend and companion you could never meet. And more traveled then most of your folk, I must say."

Bird reached for the wine jug again. "But of course, she's not as well traveled as me."

[ July 31, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* The cabin lapsed into a more relaxed silence now as a tall, lithe ranger with blonde hair and sea-blue eyes stood at the front. His dark-blue cloak frayed at the edges and his boots more mud than leather was in stark contrast to his faithfully-polished sword and scabbard. Introducing himself as Vincamir, he began to speak. *

Gentlemen ... and ladies. * he said, bowing in the direction of Bethberry and Holly. * We are all here, affected in some way by the troubles along the roads, coming ever nearer the Shire's borders. I've a map to pass around, marked with the recent locations of theft, attack, and in the case of a wagon gone missing, suspected kidnap or death. Take a close look, and add any information as will help us plan a stronger defense.

[piosenniel]

Bird became more loquacious the more Olo poured the wine for her. He sat politely and listened to her tales of adventure. 'She really is quite the adventuress!' he thought to himself. 'What an interesting life you have, Miss Bird!' he said out loud to her. Then, redirecting her attention gently he asked, 'I wonder, have you ever had any adventures with Miss Holly?'

He waited for her to answer, but the wine had finally gotten to her. Her head lay lolled back on the pillow, and a soft snore issued from her lips. Taking the coverlet from the end of the bed, he placed it over her, taking the now empty cup from her fingers.

He placed the cups, utensils, and dishes on the bare tray, along with the empty flask, and took them downstairs to the kitchen.

'Best check on the horses.' he said to himself, as he exited the kitchen's door.

[ July 31, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Holly took the map with a 'thank-you' to the Ranger, and oriented herself on it. She was alarmed to see the number of strange incidences logged on it, and the fact that many were clustered about the The Shire, made her increasingly uneasy.

She traced with her finger the route of one of her trips late last autumn. She had travelled with Peri to Crickhollow, and thought to pass through the hedge there into the Old Forest. There was a particular quality of light at that time of year that she wanted to capture as it played upon the silent trees. The Forest had been even more quiet than she remembered it, as she recalled now - except for the occasional harsh croaks of birds which seemed to proceed her as she made her way in to a small glade. She recalled the pale light as it sifted down through the branches of the trees surrounding the glade, and something niggled at the back of her memory.

'That was it!' she thought to herself. ''It was the birds, small, black, which had glided on silent wings to perch in the boughs and look at her. She had wondered at their great number, thinking it strange that they hadn't flown to warmer lands for the coming winter. They had stayed and watched her until she finished her sketching and made her way back to the Hedge. Again the call of one proceeded her to the outskirts of the Forest. Peri had been nervous, she now remembered, during the time spent among the trees, but she had passed that off as just the ususal sense of gloom felt among those old trees.

Now she felt as if he had sensed something else. Perhaps she should tell the Rangers about the birds.

[piosenniel]

Olo had come down to the stable just in time to see a familiar hobbit face driving off in a pony cart. It was Podo, and he gestured briefly in greeting and then rolled on down the road at an unhurried pace, moneybox clinking as he drove over bumps on the path.

Olo waved back at the retreating figure, and entered the stable to see to the horses. He led them all out and put them into the large corral, where they might wander about safely while he mucked out the stalls again and put down a fresh layer of hay.

He was just finished raking out the old hay, and disposing of it, when he spied something small and shiny gleaming in the dirt where Podo's cart had recently been parked. Olo bent down to investigate, and picked up the flat, round, gold object with his fingers. 'A coin!', he thought to himself. He ran out of the stable to hail Podo, to see if it was his lost money, but saw no sight of the now gone merchant.

'Strange,' he thought, rubbing the ground-in dirt off the face of the coin,'this doesn't look like any coin I've seen around these parts.' It was small, and irregular in it's roundness, with a crudely stamped picture on each side. One side held the rudely done image of a sailing ship, while the other side bore the face of a man with the letters CSTMR stamped below it.

'I'll bet Holly or Miss Bird will know where it's from.' he said to himself. He stuck it in his pocket, intending to show it to them later.

He rounded up the horses and led them down to a grassy knoll near the river, where they might run about freely, and pick at the grass as they wished. Olo sat down, back against a tree, and watched them while he smoked a pipe or two and daydreamed.

[Birdland]

Birdie woke with a start to find halfling and tray gone from her room. She smiled to herself, thinking of the not-so-unusual interest the young groom had taken in her friend. But this one seemed to be a little more worthy of Holly's attention. A bright lad, perky but not overly exuberent, with a good head on his shoulders. And he certainly was a good listener!

Bird stretched and rose, and tried to shake the cobwebs of herbs and wine from her head. Skin-changers may not have the recovery powers of hobbits, but most could take a beating and spring back fairly quickly. She decided to get up and go outside. The morning sun might do her aching bones some good.

After a quick wash-up from the pitcher of water on the nightstand, she reached for her clothes and shook her head ruefully. They were the worse for wear after her "adventure", and hadn't been in that great a shape before. She searched her pockets for the few silver coins she had left and wondered if there was a rag-and-bone man in the area who might sell her some second-hand finery.

"Perhaps Olo could tell me of someone," she thought, as she futilely brushed off her garments and hung them by the fire for a moment. Giving it up as a lost cause, she slowly dressed and made her way down the stairs.

Going into the yard, she found a sunny bench and sat down to watch the action of guests preparing for their departures, and the antics of a kitchen-lad stalking a chicken for tonight's special. There was no sign of Bethberry, Holly, or Gandalf, which was a relief. She supposed they were still at this "meeting", and while normally Bird was ready for any gossip or information that Holly might bring back to her, she worried whether the subject of hungry insects had come up on the agenda.

Then she spied Olo sitting under a tree across the yard, having his morning pipe, and got up to speak to him about the chance of a bedraggled traveler purchasing some good, cheap used clothes. Or perhaps a darning needle and thread?

[piosenniel]

Olo scrambled to his feet as Bird approached. 'Ms Bird!' he said, smiling 'Good to see you up and about!' He offered her a hand to help her seat herself beneath the tree, and then offered his bag of leaf and an extra pipe to her.

'May I offer you something to drink?' he said, holding out his leather flask to her, once she had gotten her pipe filled and lit.

She looked at him in surprise.

He laughed, and assured her, 'It's only the good,sweet water from the Inn's well! Nothing more!'

[Birdland]

Bird sat down under the tree, admiring the careful grooming that Olo had done on the horses, and drinking the water gratefully.

She delicately wiped her mouth on her sleeve, then asked the halfling: "Olo, the clothes on my back have seen some hard traveling. Do you, perhaps, know if there is a rag man about where I might buy some new garments and a good cloak?"

"Of course!" said Olo, jumping up and brushing the leaf litter from his pants. "The innkeeper himself keeps a goodly stock of garments, mostly left behind by travelers who had to vacate their rooms in - well - a bit of a rush, for one reason or another. Since we get few ladies traveling through these parts, and his wife is so fat she would probably not fit into most of the things left behind, there's bound to be some fine things in the storeroom. Let's go take a look"

This sounded more promising then Birdie had expected. She followed Olo back into the inn, where the innkeeper unlocked a back storeroom, and bid Birdie to look at her leisure and let him know when she had made her choices.

There was an amazing selection, many of the garments were of the finest quality, and Bird wondered that people who could afford such fine garments would feel the necessity to skip out on their tab in such a hurry that they would leave all their luggage behind. She looked longingly at a beautiful embroidered cloak trimmed in fur, and a surcote of the finest Elven weave. But such things would never hold up on the trails and backroads that the skin-changer traveled. They were meant for fine ladies with homes and hearths. Reluctantly, she let them drop.

But in short order, she had found a simple but finely made split riding skirt, more than suitable for walking, or riding, if Bird should ever own a horse again, which seemed unlikely. A very suitable black bodice, and two shyrts soon followed. Then a simple, but warm and soft green cloak. Hose and some soft but sturdy boots finished the ensemble. The boots were probably made for a boy, but they were too good to let go, and fitted Birdie's small feet just fine. (Though she envied her friend Holly, who never had to worry about the expense of footwear.)

The innkeeper came back in, and studied the small pile that Bird had set aside. "Twelve silver pennies for the lot. And a better deal you'll not find. Those clothes are made of the finest materials. Couldn't do better if you traveled to Minas Tirith."

Bird fingered the coins in her pocket. Count as she could, they only added up to ten silver pennies, and even if the innkeeper agreed to the price, it would take every bit of money she had. She reluctantly picked up the boots, preparing to put them back.

"Pray, Miss Birdie, allow me." Olo gallantly pulled a golden coin from his pocket. "I had a bit of a windfall in the stable this morning, and I would be more than pleased to lend the price of 12 silver pennies to a friend of Miss Holly's." Bird started to protest, but he waved his hand, saying "If ever you pass through again, you can repay me, if only with more tales of your adventures."

Olo flipped the golden coin to the innkeeper, who studied it, then bit it, before turning to get change for the halfling. But suddenly Bird, who had been looking at the gold piece as well, (having seen so few of them) grabbed his arm and exclaimed "Olo! Where did this coin come from?"

[Bêthberry]

The map drew a sombre response from Bethberry.
Too many grievous incidents are recorded here. And yet not enough. Ranger, you report only the incidents of men and elves. More worrisome are also the elements of the natural world which harbour fear and unrest. Several times in the past year there have been whispers of a dark shadow passing unseasonably across the light of the sun and I myself have seen a black wind overtake the day's balmy breeze--not commonly or regularly, but more often than is comfortable. Taken together, these omens are not fair harbingers. (OOC: Posting from the TV in our hotel room. Cool, but the keyboard is a pain.)

[ August 04, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Alas, Vincamir! My companions and I have yet more incidents to add to your map in addition to the groanings of nature that Bethberry describes.

Thankfully we survived, though with bloodshed and injury. Our adversaries did not fare so well, as several were killed. One you might still capture alive ... * Gandalf smiled with wry humor. * Just north on the Andrath Greenway from Sarn Ford, you'll find a wretch who's spent the night shuddering too high in a tree to climb down safely. Where that tree is, mark on the map an encounter with a band of eight or nine waylayers.

The night before, just below the South Downs, we encountered a Black Rider, whom we defeated after heavy battle. I seem to have befriended its horse, Midnight. * Gandalf picked up his pipe from the floor. Putting it back in his mouth and relighting it, he would say no more about the Black Rider. There were general gasps of astonishment from the assembled Rangers, many in recognition of the enormity of the danger, a few at the improbability of taming a horse from Mordor. *

* One pair of Ranger eyes in particular met the wizard’s gaze at these last tidings. Gandalf bowed his head in deference to this solemn-cloaked Ranger, approaching along the cabin wall for a few discreet words before Vincamir resumed speaking. *

As darkness comes, precisely then it is that the embers of anticipated fire shall be stirred anew against it, Aragorn. ... Any word on Gollum? Have you seen him?

...

[ August 04, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Birdland]

Olo was startled at Birdie's reaction to the strange coin, and stammered "I found it on the floor of the stable. I thought it had been lost by that Podo fellow, and I tried to catch him, but he was too far down the road." Olo turned to the innkeeper with a worried look on his honest face. "I didn't steal it."

"Nay, Master Olo", the innkeeper said, waving his hand dismissively, "I've known you long enough to not suspect such a thing of you. A lucky find you had, and that Halfling merchant should take more care with his money belt if he doesn't want to share his wealth with others."

"Oh, Olo," said Bird, "that's not what I meant at all. It's just that...that's a Southern piece, isn't it? How did it come here?" Birdie lowered her voice at the last, as if she feared that a wild, Southern Corsair would jump in the window with cutlass waving.

The innkeeper studied the piece more closely, "Aye, it's Southern. And you don't see such coin often around here. From what I hear, those folk are more likely to take than give. But I have one other in my till right now, which that Mr. Podo used to pay his tab. Had me weigh it most carefully, he did, and made sure he got the change owed him to the last pittance. Then left without so much as tipping the pot-boy."

But then the innkeeper shrugged, flipped the piece in the air, and caught it with a wink.
"But as I always say: 'Gold has no country'...least not 'til it 'lands' in your pocket, eh?" he laughed at his joke and left the storeroom, calling back over his shoulder, "I'll have your change in a half-a-minute, Mr. Olo."

Olo looked up at Birdie, who was chewing her lip with worry as she gathered up her bundle. "Miss Birdie, do you really think that was a Southern coin?"

"You saw it, Olo. It said 'Castamir', on it, plain as day. And surely even in the Michel Delving you've heard of HIS folk." Olo nodded his head solemnly, remembering fireside tales of long-ago battles and the treacheries of Men.

"Well", sighed the skin-changer, "If that Podo is having dealings with the likes of them, let's just hope he's doing it far, far from here." She gathered up her "new" clothes, thanked Olo again for the loan, and went off to change.

[ August 09, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[piosenniel]

Holly sat and fidgeted on the bench. She was worried about her friend Bird, and she was finding the interminable talk of the rangers and the wizard becoming quite tedious despite the seriousness of the topic.

Bethberry glanced at the hobbit, who had just changed her position and yawned silently once again, and leaned over, speaking quietly to her. 'Perhaps you should go stretch your legs a bit! There will be more talk yet to come.'

Holly blushed at being caught out, and mouthed a thank-you to Bethberry. Standing up from her seat, she made her way quietly to the door of the cabin and went out on to the porch. Seeing a small patch of sun in the clearing just before the cabin steps, she walked into it and gave a large stretch and a satisfied 'Ah!'

'Escaping again, halfing?' came the amused voice from the shadows of the trees on the side of the clearing. A ranger stepped into view and smiled at her. She recognised him as the one who had been guarding the Inn last night. He had obviously been set as guard again today.

'I am not your prisoner, sir!' came her steely reply. Her eyes flashed in the sun as she faced him, hands on hips. 'I am Holly Stoor, one of the Free Peoples, if you might remember. And I would thank you not to interfere with me again!'

He bowed low to her, his face having become more serious. 'I beg your pardon, Miss Holly!' came his reply. 'I did not mean to offend you. I know all too well that you are one of the Free Peoples, and I intend to do my part to see it stays that way.' His young face took on a troubled look, as if some shadow had passed over it. 'But I forget my own manners, I am Vorondil, newly a ranger of Ithilien, sent by my captain to strengthen the watch in this area. Could we not set our past history aside, and start afresh as friends?'

She looked him up and down, gauging the sincerity in his voice and stance, then offered him her hand in friendly agreement. 'Well, then, Vorondil, let's walk about a bit. You need to be on watch I would imagine, and I need some excercise to clear my head.'

They faded into the trees, and walked in the shadows around the perimeter of the cabin, talking quietly. Vorondil's gaze went ever afar, this way and that, looking for signs of anything amiss. When they had come full circle, they sat in the shade of a large tree, perched, side by side, on one of its gigantic roots. Holly's feet kicked back and forth, free of the ground, as she watched the still talking group in the cabin through the front windows, and heard the low murmur of their conversation and argument.

'Vorondil?' she said, 'About that map the rangers have, I think I need to tell you about something I remembered from last autumn.'

He looked at her, expectantly. She told him about the birds. He nodded, his face serious, at her telling of the story, then promised he would see her encounter be noted on the map.

[piosenniel]

The words of Miss Bird kept turning over and over again in Olo's mind and they brought him no comfort: "Well, if that Odo is having dealings with the likes of them, let's just hope he's doing it far, far from here." He was sorely afraid that 'the likes of them' were indeed coming too close to his corner of the country for comfort.

He sat in a chair in the common room, and thought long and hard about the strange comings and goings that had been happening just in that area lately - the dark, unfriendly traffic on the roads, the increase in rangers he had noted recently, the fact that a small travelling group had come specifically to speak with those rangers. His thoughts turned to Holly, and he wondered how much danger she might be placing herself in. He wondered if she even understood the grim picture that was beginning to reveal itself to him.

He got up from his seat, feeling a sudden unease come over him. Running upstairs, he pounded on Bird's door.

'Miss Bird! Miss Bird! Open up! It's Olo!'

A displeased face appeared through the crack of the barely opened door. 'Olo! What are you making such a racket about? I'm just trying on my new clothes. You can't come in!'

Undeterred, the insistent hobbit pushed the door open. Blushing, he shut his eyes tight, and said to the now darkness before him, 'Please, Miss Bird. I have a bad feeling about things. We need to find Miss Holly!'

[Birdland]

Birdie sighed, then retreated behind a screen. "You can open your eyes now, before you break something and I have to pay for it." Olo peaked furtively, then with relief sought a chair on the far side of the room.

"Look, Mistress Holly has gone off to attend some kind of 'moot' thing with Gandalf, Bethberry and those Rangers. I have no idea just where their little gathering is being held, and I don't want to know. But if she's in the company of Rangers, and that Gandalf - who seems to be everything that's said about him, and then some - then you have no cause to be worrying for her health. 'Safe as houses', they say, an expression I've never understood myself, but I think we can assume that nothing is going to happen to Holly today. As for tomorrow..." Birdie just shrugged. Did anyone really know about tomorrow?

"There!" she said, stepping out from behind the screen, How do I look?"

Olo said the usual complimentary phrases; having been raised with a passel of sisters, he knew them all. And he had to admit that the strange little woman did look a sight better than she had before. Birdie whirled with delight and said "I feel like I have a new skin!"

"A new what?" said Olo with amusement.

"Oh, never mind", said Birdie hastily. "Now if you can do one more thing for me, Olo: can you tell me if there is a walnut tree about?"

"A walnut tree? Whatever for?"

"Never mind. Just say that I intend to pay you back those 12 silver pennies. And I have a never-fail way of going about it."

[piosenniel]

Olo thought over Bird's words. He would just have to take her word for it that Holly would be safe, seeing as how he had no idea either of where the group had gone. 'Nothing to do but wait.' he said to himself. But once the group had gotten back to the inn, he intended to stick to her side like glue.

He sighed. Bird poked him on the arm and repeated her question about the walnut tree.

'Walnut tree? Oh, yes, I know where one is.' He looked her outfit over again. 'Best you dress a little less "pretty", Miss Bird. It's a long hike, through an old overgrown orchard not too far from here. You'll be wanting some good boots, and sturdier clothes, if you catch my drift.' He turned back toward the door. 'I'll just wait outside for you if you don't mind.'

He stood on the landing, scratching his head speculatively. 'Walnuts? Silver pennies? What's one got to do with the other, I wonder?!'

[Birdland]

Olo and Birdie waded through the high, soft orchard grass, and walked towards an old hedgerow where the halfling said the walnut tree grew.

"But Miss Birdie, I still don't understand why you need me there?"

"To show everyone how easy the game is! You just pick the shell that the pebble is under, and that will get other people interested in guessing as well."

But what if I guess wrong?"

Oh, you won't guess wrong! This is your lucky day, isn't it? You found a whole gold piece, now, didn't you?"

Yes, a gold piece from the land of the Usurper. I have to wonder how lucky that can be? And I'm still worried about Holly."

"She'll be fine. By the time we get back, her and the others will probably be back at the inn having second lunch, or whatever you call it. There should be quite a crowd around."

I still don't see how you can make any money, if this game is so easy."

"Well, Olo, friend - not everyone can be as lucky as you today. By the time dinner is being served, I'll have those 12 silver pennies to hand you. And perhaps a little somthing for myself, as well." murmured Birdie under her breath.

"Well, there it is." Olo pointed to a high, ancient walnut tree, marking the boundary of the orchard. They were almost there.

[piosenniel]

Olo had Bird give him a hand up as he climbed the tree. She wanted walnuts of a uniform shape and color, and he spent a long time dropping down nuts for her persusal.

He had plenty of time to think while his hands sought out the nuts. Something had stirred in his memory when she had talked about how she was going to make money using the shells.

He was just a tiny hobbit lad when a troop of travelling performers making their way to the Prancing Pony in Bree had stopped at his family farm near Michel Delving. One of their carts had broken down, and they had spent several days at the farm while his father and older brothers worked on the repairs. During the days, they would help out with chores about the farm, but in the evenings, after supper, they would practice their various arts and entertain the family.

Now one of these fellows, as he recalled, had played a quick fingered game of hiding a small round stone under one nut shell half while mixing it in with a number of other identical appearing shells on the table in front of him. He would then set up a patter of constant, rhythmic talking while moving the shell halves about in a mesmerizing pattern. Try as he might, Olo could never quite catch which shell the stone was under.

That is, until the fellow asked Olo if he might like to help 'entertain' the good folk of his family by assisting him. He proved a quick learner and soon both he and the fellow had gotten quite good at drawing his family members in and tricking them.

It was all in fun, of course, and Olo was quite proud of his part as assistant. His father, later, however, had pulled him aside and talked to him gently of how such a game and such 'tricking' could be harmful if done in only for greedy purposes.

'Now what was that word the fellow had used to name the assistant?' he thought to himself. He jumped down from the lowest branch with the last of the needed walnuts, and the sharp contact with the ground jogged his memory.

'Miss Bird!' he said, somewhat aghast, 'You don't mean to make me your shill, do you?'

[Birdland]

Bird was examining the walnuts carefully, choosing the most perfect and largest. She glanced up at the young halfling and said, "Shill? Now where did you hear such a word?"

"From my father. He said what we are doing is wrong."

Bird took a small knife from her pocket, and proceeded to halve the walnuts. Handing Olo a nut piece, she asked "How can it be wrong? I'm good at this game. I've practiced it for years. If someone wants to challenge my skill, is that wrong? If there were a shooting contest, and I was the better archer, would that be wrong? Or if I had the better nag in a horse race, would that be wrong?"

Bird brushed the chips and dirt from her skirt, and looked down at Olo "But, my friend, I am not an archer, or a horseman. Nor a merchant, warrior, or scribe. I'm just one of many, trying to make their way in the world best as they can. I have other skills that I could use to my benefit, if I so chose. But I don't. Because THAT would be wrong. Very, very wrong."

"Miss Birdie, you don't have to repay me those pennies. I gave them freely. I hardly feel they were mine in the first place."

"Oh, they're yours, all right. Remember? 'Gold has no country!'" Olo laughed as the woman did a perfect imitation of the old innkeeper. "Besides, I always repay my debts. But you don't have to play along if you don't want to. I 'spect you'll have other things to occupy you when Holly and the others get back."

Bird checked out the sun, and said, "C'mon then. The others may be heading back soon, and I want to get this show underway before those Rangers return."

"Now why is that, Miss Bird?" said Olo with a grin.

"Because, dear Olo, they can play the game better than me."

**********************************
O.O.C. - I would have made it Three Card Monte, but I wasn't sure if they had poker decks in Middle-Earth. [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img]

[ August 07, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[piosenniel]

The meeting was taking a brief break. Most of those attending had come out to the porch and the area in front of the cabin for a breath of fresh air and a chance to stretch their legs.

Holly saw Bethberry just stepping off the porch, and beckoned her over.

'Bethberry, this is my friend, Vorondil, newly a ranger of Ithilien.' she said presenting him to Bethberry. He inclined his head toward her, and said how pleased he was to meet her in return.

Bethberry looked closely at his face, and, smiling, asked Holly, 'Friend, is it now? I don't think that is how you referred to him las night, or am I mistaken?!'

'That was an unfortunate misunderstanding.' said the hobbit hastily. 'Yes, on both our parts.' added the young ranger.

Vorondil and Bethberry chatted for a while, and Holly took the opportunity to seek out Gandalf. She found him, sitting on the steps, just getting ready to smoke a pipe.

'Gandalf,' she asked politely,'do you think it might be possible for me to go back to the inn to see about Bird. I'm still quite worried about her. I've told that ranger over there about what I've seen that may be suspicious, and I was hoping my presence here wouldn't be needed any longer. Though I'll stay if you think it necessary, of course.'

He looked at her, and smiled. 'Now how do you propose to get back to the inn? You looked so tired when we were walking here, I doubt you can recall the route.'

She thought furiously about the trip, but he was right - her memory of it was clouded by her lack of sleep.

It was then a voice broke through her thoughts. 'I can show her the way, if you like, sir. I'm off duty now, and would be happy to accompany Holly back to the Inn.'

Holly introduced Vorondil to Gandalf, and Gandalf gave her leave to go, saying that he would fill her in later on anything she might need to know.

She thanked him, and then saying good-bye to Bethberry, she made her way back to the inn, ranger in tow.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf used the short break to think over Bethberry's words about the destroyed letter ... seek ways to redress the loss. Could the path be retraced and a second letter sought? Or now must our steps be sent a different way, not to Tharbad? ... The trek to Tharbad could still go as planned, actually. Rivendell wouldn't be too far out of the way when it came time to journey to Lothlórien. Especially if the former war steed Midnight would consent to take him. *

Bethberry, it is kind of you to offer to continue the journey with me, when all the road appears to offer you is hardship.

* Gandalf smiled, bowing to recognize the generosity of his friend. Then the break ended, and all filed back inside the cabin. *

* As for what was to be learned from the Council of Rangers, the main gist of it all was that the tide was turning against the Dunedain, who continued to meet the challenge by sheer dint of drawing the deeper on their reserves of inner strength and determination to fight the good fight in Arda. Trolls were observed as being bolder and shrewder than in former days. Stranger yet, it was rumored that Orcs singly or in small, quiet groups were skulking openly in places where they'd never dared venture so before. Travel was increasingly treacherous. *

* At Vincamir's mention of Maladil Castle, the Ranger looked at Gandalf meaningfully. It was thought that the Castle's very reputation for hauntedness was making its territory an attractive refuge for evildoers. *

Yes, Vincamir. My road still lies South to Tharbad.

* In the middle of the afternoon, the Council ended. Bethberry and Gandalf decided that by the time they arrived back at the Trade Inn to meet up with the others, it would be too late for further travelling this day. They would spend one more night at Sarn Ford. *

* Meanwhile, at around dusk, Podo Cotton arrived in Buckland. This time, he couldn't resist putting one of his plans into action. The Hobbit crept up the lane to his friend Emmy's door, humming a song about picnics and pies. Emeralds for Esmerelda, he murmured, placing an envelope containing three choice green jools on her doorstep. Podo knocked on the door, then flung himself into some bushes to secretly await what would happen. His pony Hardwin and his cart stood a short ways down the lane, submerged by twilight shadows under an overcast sky. *

[ August 09, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Birdland]

As usual, the trip back to someplace always seems shorter than the trip to someplace. Before Holly knew it she could hear the sounds of the inn yard, and smell the good odors of cooking from its kitchens. Tiredness immediately gave way to hunger.

The noises from the yard seemed particularly loud. The Hobbit and Ranger could hear laughter, shouts and curses, and a strange, rhythmic patter underlying it all. As they rounded the bend of the trail, Holly saw a crowd of people; drovers, merchants, and travelers of all stripes, though mostly poor, gathered around a rough table covered with a scrap of leather. And in the center of it all, her friend Bird stood, smiling and laughing while she kept up a sing-song chant:

"See the pebble, win a penny! Round and round they go. Take your eye away for a second, and you'll never find your way. But if your eye is keen and your mind sharp, your fortune can be made. See the pebble, win a penny!"

Bird's hands flew and hovered over the table, manipulated three small objects over the smooth surface. Then she stopped, hand on hip, and with her fingertip rapidly tapped the objects - one, two, three. A large, unwashed man in greasy leathers peered down at the table, then pointed with his pipe to the right.

"Oh, nothing there this time, but that is Fortune's way. Care to try again sir?" His companions laughed uproariously as the man slapped his hand on the table and fished in his pocket for another coin.

"Oh, no! Birdie!" Holly murmured, looking aghast a the rough crowd centered around her friend. The Ranger Vorodil looked down in amusement at Holly's reaction. "Friend of yours?"

[ August 09, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]